the young yagers a narrative of hunting adventures in southern africa by captain mayne reid published by ticknor and fields, boston, usa this edition dated the young yagers, by captain mayne reid. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the young yagers, by captain mayne reid. chapter one. the camp of the young yagers. near the confluence of the two great rivers of southern africa--the _yellow_ and _orange_--behold the camp of the "young yagers!" it stands upon the southern bank of the latter stream, in a grove of babylonian willows, whose silvery foliage, drooping gracefully to the water's edge, fringes both shores of the noble river as far as the eye can reach. a tree of rare beauty is this _salix babylonica_--in gracefulness of form scarce surpassed even by the palms, the "princes of the forest." in our land, as we look upon it, a tinge of sadness steals over our reflections. we have grown to regard it as the emblem of sorrow. we have named it the "weeping willow," and draped the tomb with its soft pale fronds, as with a winding-sheet of silver. far different are the feelings inspired by the sight of this beautiful tree amid the _karoos_ of southern africa. that is a land where springs and streams are "few and far between;" and the _weeping_ willow--sure sign of the presence of water--is no longer the emblem of sorrow, but the symbol of joy. joy reigns in the camp under its shade by the banks of the noble orange river, as is proved by the continuous peals of laughter that ring clear and loud upon the air, and echo from the opposite shores of the stream. who are they that laugh so loudly and cheerfully? _the young yagers_. and who are the young yagers? let us approach their camp and see for ourselves. it is night, but the blaze of the camp-fire will enable us to distinguish all of them, as they are all seated around it. by its light we can take their portraits. there are six of them--a full "set of six," and not one appears to be yet twenty years of age. they are all boys between the ages of ten and twenty--though two or three of them, and, maybe, more than that number, think themselves quite men. three of the party you will recognise at a glance as old acquaintances. they are no other than hans, hendrik, and jan, our _ci-devant_ "bush-boys." it is several years since we saw them last, and they have grown a good deal since then; but none of them has yet reached the full stature of manhood. though no longer "bush-boys," they are yet only boys; and jan, who used to be called "little jan," still merits and receives that distinctive appellation. it would stretch jan to his utmost to square off against a four-foot measuring-stick; and he could only manage it by standing upon the very tips of his toes. hans has grown taller, but, perhaps, thinner and paler. for two years he has been at college, where he has been very busy with his books, and has greatly distinguished himself by carrying off the first prizes in everything. upon hendrik there is a decided change. he has outgrown his elder brother both in length and breadth, and comes very near looking like a full-grown man. he is yet but eighteen years old, straight as a rush, with a decided military air and gait. the last is not to be wondered at, as hendrik has now been a cornet in the cape mounted rifles for more than a year, and still holds that commission, as may be learnt by looking at his forage-cap, with its golden embroidery over the peak. so much for our old acquaintances the "bush-boys!" but who are the other three that share with them the circle of the camp-fire? who are their companions? for they are evidently on terms of companionship, and friendship too. who are they? a word or two will tell that. they are the _van wyks_. the three sons of diedrik van wyk. and who, then, is diedrik van wyk? that must also be explained. diedrik is a very rich boor--a "vee-boor"--who every night shuts up within his spacious _kraals_ more than three thousand horses and horned cattle, with five times that number of sheep and goats! in fact, diedrik van wyk is accounted the richest vee-boor, or grazier, in all the graaf reinet. now the broad _plaatz_, or farm, of diedrik van wyk lies contiguous to that of our old acquaintance, hendrik von bloom; and it so chances that hendrik and diedrik are fast friends and inseparable companions. they see each other once a-day, at the least. every evening hendrik rides over to the "kraal" of diedrik, or diedrik to that of hendrik, to enjoy a smoke together out of their ponderous pipes of meerschaum, or a "zoopje" of _brandewyn_ distilled from their own peaches. they are, in fact, a pair of regular old comrades,--for van wyk in early life has seen military service as well as von bloom,--and, like all old soldiers, they love to repeat their camp stories, and "fight their battles o'er again." under such circumstances it is not to be wondered at, that the children of both should be intimate acquaintances. but, in addition to the friendship of their fathers, there is a tie of relationship between the two families,--the two mothers were cousins,--so that the children are what is usually termed second cousins,--a very interesting sort of affinity. and it is not an unlikely thing that the relationship between the families of von bloom and his friend van wyk may one day become still closer and more interesting; for the former has for his daughter, as all the world knows, the beautiful flaxen-haired cherry-cheeked truey, while the latter is the father of the pretty brunette wilhelmina--also an only daughter. now there chance to be three boys in each family; and though both boys and girls are by far too young to think of getting married yet, there are suspicions abroad that the families of von bloom and van wyk will, at no very distant day, be connected by a double marriage--which would not be displeasing to either of the old comrades, hendrik and diedrik. i have said there are three boys in each family. you already know the von blooms, hans, hendrik, and jan. allow me to introduce you to the van wyks. their names are willem, arend, and klaas. willem is the eldest, and, though not yet eighteen, is quite a man in size. willem is, in fact, a boy of very large dimensions, so large that he has received the _sobriquet_ of "groot willem" (big william) therefrom. all his companions call him "groot willem." but he is strong in proportion to his size,--by far the strongest of the young yagers. he is by no means tidy in his dress. his clothes, consisting of a big jacket of homespun cloth, a check shirt, and an enormously wide pair of leathern trousers, hang loosely about him, and make him look larger than he really is. even his broad-brimmed felt hat has a slouching set upon his head, and his _feldtschoenen_ are a world too wide for his feet. and just as easy as his dress is the disposition of the wearer. though strong as a lion, and conscious of his strength, groot willem would not harm a fly, and his kindly and unselfish nature makes him a favourite with all. groot willem is a mighty hunter, carries one of the largest of guns, a regular dutch "roer," and also an enormous powder-horn, and pouch full of leaden bullets. an ordinary boy would stagger under such a load, but it is nothing to groot willem. now it may be remembered that hendrik von bloom is also a "mighty hunter;" and i shall just whisper that a slight feeling of rivalry--i shall not call it jealousy, for they are good friends--exists between these two nimrods. hendrik's favourite gun is a rifle, while the roer of groot willem is a "smooth bore;" and between the merits of these two weapons camp-fire discussions are frequent and sharp. they are never carried beyond the limits of gentlemanly feeling, for loose and slovenly as is groot willem in outward appearance, he is a gentleman within. equally a gentleman, but of far more taste and style, is the second brother of the van wyks, arend. in striking appearance and manly beauty he is quite a match for hendrik von bloom himself, though in complexion and features there is no resemblance between them. hendrik is fair, while arend is very dark-skinned, with black eyes and hair. in fact, all the van wyks are of the complexion known as "brunette," for they belong to that section of the inhabitants of holland sometimes distinguished as "black dutch." but upon arend's fine features the hue sits well, and a handsomer youth is not to be seen in all the graaf reinet. some whisper that this is the opinion of the beautiful gertrude von bloom; but that can only be idle gossip, for the fair truey is yet but thirteen, and therefore can have no opinion on such a matter. africa, however, is an early country, and there _might_ be something in it. arend's costume is a tasty one, and becomes him well. it consists of a jacket of dressed antelope-skin,--the skin of the springbok; but this, besides being tastefully cut and sewed, is very prettily embroidered with slashes of beautiful leopard-skin, while broad bands of the same extend along the outside seams of the trousers, from waist to ankle, giving to the whole dress, a very rich and striking effect. arend's head-dress is similar to that worn by hendrik von bloom, viz: a military forage-cap, upon the front of which are embroidered in gold bullion a bugle and some letters; and the explanation of that is, that arend, like his second cousin, is a cornet in the cape rifles, and a dashing young soldier he is. now the portrait of klaas in pen and ink.--klaas is just jan's age and jan's exact height, but as to circumference therein exists a great difference. jan, as you all know, is a thin, wiry little fellow, while klaas, on the contrary, is broad, stout, and burly. in fact, so stout is he, that jan repeated two and a half times would scarce equal him in diameter! both wear cloth roundabouts and trousers, and little broad-brimmed hats; both go to the same school; and, though there is a considerable difference between them in other respects, both are great boys for bird-catching and all that sort of thing. as they only carry small shot-guns, of course they do not aspire to killing antelopes or other large animals; but, small as their guns are, i pity the partridge, guinea-hen, or even bustard, that lets either of them crawl within reach of it. now it has been hinted that between the hunters groot willem and hendrik there is a slight feeling of rivalry in regard to matters of _venerie_. a very similar feeling, spiced perhaps with a little bit of jealousy, has long existed between the bird-catchers, and sometimes leads to a little coolness between them, but that is usually of very short duration. hans and arend have no envious feelings--either of one another or of anybody else. hans is too much of a philosopher: besides, the accomplishment in which he excels, the knowledge of natural history, is one in which he is without a rival. none of the rest make any pretensions to such knowledge; and the opinion of hans on any matter of science is always regarded as a final judgment. as to arend, he is not particularly proud of any acquirement. handsome, brave, and generous, he is nevertheless a right modest youth,--a boy to be beloved. and now you know who are the _young yagers_. chapter two. swartboy the bushman and congo the kaffir. i have said that the young yagers were encamped on the southern bank of the great orange river. what were they doing there? the spot they occupied was many a long day's journey from their home in the graaf reinet, and many a day's journey beyond the frontier of the cape colony. there were no settlements near. no white men ever wandered so far, except an occasional "smouse," or trader--a class of men who extend their bartering expeditions almost to the central parts of the african continent. sometimes, too, the "trek-boor," or nomade grazier, may have driven his flocks to this remote place, but for all that it could not be considered a settled country. it was still a wilderness. and what were the young von blooms and van wyks doing in the wilderness? _jaging_ to be sure, and nothing else,--they were simply out on a hunting expedition. it was an expedition that had been long talked of and planned. since their grand hunt of the elephant, the "bush-boys" had not followed any game. hendrik had been with his regiment, and hans and jan busy with their respective studies. so with arend van wyk as with hendrik, and klaas as with jan. groot willem alone, from time to time, had been jaging springboks and such other game as is to be found among the settlements. but the present was a grand expedition intended to be carried far beyond the settled part of the colony--in fact, as far as they thought fit to go. the boys had received the full sanction of their parents, and had been fitted out in proper style--each having a good horse, and each three a large wagon to carry all their camp utensils, and serve as a tent to sleep in. each wagon had its driver, and full span of ten long-horned oxen; and these, with a small pack of rough-looking _buck-dogs_, might be seen in the camp--the oxen tied to the disselbooms of the wagons, and the dogs grouped in various attitudes around the fire. the horses were also fastened some to the wheels, and others to trees that grew near. two other objects in the camp are well worthy of a word or two; in fact, they are two individuals of very great importance to the expedition--as without them the wagons would be a troublesome affair. they are the drivers of these vehicles, and each is as proud of his whip-craft as jehu could possibly have been of his. in one of these drivers you will recognise an old acquaintance. the large head and high cheek-bones, with the flat spread nostrils between; the small oblique mongolian eyes; the short curly wool-knots, planted sparsely over the broad skull; the yellow complexion; the thick "chunky" form, scarce four feet in height, and sparely clad in red flannel shirt and brown leathern "crackers;" with all these features and characters before your mind, you cannot fail to recognise an old favourite--the bushman, _swartboy_. swartboy it was; and, though several years have rolled over the bushman's bare head since we saw him last, there is no visible change observable in swartboy. the thinly scattered "kinks" of browny black wool still adorn swartboy's crown and occiput, but they are no thinner-- the same good-natured grin is observed upon his yellow face--he is still the same faithful servant--the same expert driver--the same useful fellow that he ever was. swartboy, of course, drives the wagon of the von blooms. now the driver of the van wyk vehicle is about as unlike swartboy as a bear to a bluebottle. in the first place, he is above a third taller than the bushman, standing over six feet,--not in his stockings, for he never wears stockings, but in sandals, which he does wear. his complexion is darker than that of the hottentot, although it is not black, but rather of a bronze colour; and the hair of his head, although somewhat "woolly," is longer than swartboy's, and less inclined to _take root at both ends_! where the line of swartboy's nose is concave, that of the other is convex, and the nose itself almost aquiline. a dark piercing eye, a row of white teeth regularly set, lips of moderate thickness, a well-proportioned form, and erect attitude, give to this individual, an aspect of grandeur and gravity, both of which are in complete contrast with the comic picture presented by the short stout body and grinning countenance of the bushman. the costume of the tall man has something graceful about it. it consists of a tunic-like skirt suspended around the waist and hanging down to mid-thigh. there is something peculiar in this skirt. it has the appearance of a fringe or drapery of long white hairs, not plaited or woven, but hanging free and full. it is, in fact, the true costume of a savage; and consists simply of a number of antelope's tails--the white tails of the gnoo--strung together around the waist, and allowed to fall to their full length down the thighs. a sort of "tippet" of the same surrounding the shoulders, with copper rings on the ankles and armlets encircling the wrist, a bunch of ostrich-feathers waving from his crown, and a string of beads around his neck, complete the costume of congo the kaffir--for to that nation of romantic savages belonged the wagon-driver of the van wyks. what! a kaffir the driver of a wagon? you will exclaim. you can hardly realise the idea, that a kaffir--a warrior, as you may deem him--could be employed in so menial an office as wagon-driving! but it is even so. many kaffirs are so engaged in the cape colony,--indeed, many thousands; and in offices of a more degrading kind than driving a wagon team--which by the way, is far from being considered an unworthy employment in south africa, so far that the sons of the wealthiest boors may often be seen mounted upon the voor-kist and handling the long bamboo whip with all the ability of a practised "jarvey." there is nothing odd about congo the kaffir being wagon-driver to the van wyks. he was a refugee, who had escaped from the despotic rule of the blood-stained monster chaaka. having in some way offended the tyrant, he had been compelled to flee for his life; and, after wandering southward, had found safety and protection among the colonists. here he had learnt to make himself a useful member of civilised society, though a lingering regard for ancient habits influenced him still to retain the costume of his native country--the country of the zooloo kaffir. no one could have blamed him for this; for, as he stood with his ample leopard-skin _kaross_ suspended togalike from his shoulders, the silvery skirt draping gracefully to his knees, and his metal rings glittering under the blaze of the camp-fire, a noble picture he presented,--a savage but interesting picture. no one could blame congo for wishing to display his fine form in so becoming a costume. and no one did. no one was jealous of the handsome savage. yes,--one. there was one who did not regard him with the most amiable feelings. there was a rival who could not listen to congo's praise with indifference. one who liked not congo. that rival was swartboy. talk of the rivalry that existed between the hunters hendrik and groot willem, of that between klaas and jan. put both into one, and it would still fall far short of the constant struggles for pre-eminence that were exhibited between the rival "whips," swartboy the bushman, and congo the kaffir. swartboy and congo were the only servants with the expedition. cooks or other attendants the young yagers had none. not but that the rich landdrost,--for it must be remembered that von bloom was now chief magistrate of his district,--and the wealthy boor could have easily afforded a score of attendants upon each trio of hunters. but there were no attendants whatever beyond the two drivers. this was not on the score of economy. no such thing. it was simply because the old soldiers, hendrik von bloom and diedrik van wyk, were not the men to pamper their boys with too much luxury. "if they must go a-hunting, let them rough it," said they; and so they started them off, giving them a brace of wagons to carry their _impedimenta_--and their spoils. but the young yagers needed no attendance. each knew how to wait upon himself. even the youngest could skin an antelope and broil its ribs over the fire; and that was about all the cookery they would require till their return. the healthy stomach of the hunter supplies a sauce more appetising than either harvey or soyer could concoct with all their culinary skill. before arriving at their present camp the young yagers had been out several weeks; but, although they had hunted widely, they had not fallen in with any of the great game, such as giraffes, buffaloes, or elephants; and scarce an adventure worth talking about. a day or two before a grand discussion had taken place as to whether they should cross the great river, and proceed farther northward, in search of the camelopard and elephant, or whether they should continue on the southern side, jaging springboks, hartebeests, and several other kinds of antelopes. this discussion ended in a resolve to continue on to the north, and remain there till their time was up,--the time of course being regulated by the duration of college and school vacations, and leave of absence from the "corps." groot willem had been the principal adviser of this course, and hans his backer. the former was desirous of jaging the elephant, the buffalo, and giraffe,--a sport at which he was still but a novice, as he had never had a fair opportunity of hunting these mighty giants of the wood; while hans was equally desirous of an exploring expedition that would bring him in contact with new forms of vegetable life. strange as it may appear, arend threw in his vote for returning home; and, stranger still, that the hunter hendrik should join him in this advice! but almost every thing can be explained, if we examine it with care and patience; and the odd conduct of the two "cornets" was capable of explanation. hans slyly hinted that it was possible that a certain brunette, wilhelmina, might have something to do with hendrik's decision; but groot willem, who was a rough plain-spoken fellow, broadly alleged, that it was nothing else than truey that was carrying arend's thoughts homeward; and the consequence of these hints and assertions was, that neither hendrik nor arend offered any further opposition to going northward among the elephants, but, blushing red to the very eyes, both were only too glad to give in their assent and terminate the discussion. northward then became the word:--northward for the land of the tall giraffe and the mighty elephant! the young yagers had arrived on the southern bank of the orange river, opposite to a well-known "drift," or crossing-place. there chanced to be a freshet in the river; and they had encamped, and were waiting until the water should fall and the ford become passable. chapter three. how congo crossed a "drift." next morning, by break of day, our yagers were astir, and the first object upon which they rested their eyes was the river. to their joy it had fallen several feet, as they could tell by the water-mark upon the trees. the streams of south africa, like those of most tropical and sub-tropical countries, and especially where the district is mountainous, rise and fall with much greater rapidity than those of temperate climes. their sudden rise is accounted for by the great quantity of water which in tropical storms is precipitated within a short period of time--the rain falling, not in light sparse drops, but thick and heavy, for several hours together, until the whole surface of the country is saturated, and every rivulet becomes a torrent. of these storms we have an exemplification in our summer thunder-showers--with their big rain-drops, when in a few minutes the gutter becomes a rivulet and the rut of the cartwheel a running stream. fortunately these "sunshiny" showers are of short duration. they "last only half-an-hour," instead of many hours. fancy one of them continuing for a whole day or a week! if such were to be the case, we should witness floods as sudden and terrible as those of the tropics. the quick fall in the streams of south africa is easily accounted for-- the principal reason being that the clouds are their feeders, and not, as with us, springs and lakes. tropic rivers rarely run from reservoirs; the abrupt cessation of the rain cuts off their supply, and the consequence is the sudden falling of their waters. evaporation by a hot sun, and large absorption by the dry earth, combine to produce this effect. now the young yagers saw that the "gareep" (such is the native name of the orange river) had fallen many feet during the night; but they knew not whether it was yet fordable. though the place was a "drift" used by hottentots, bechuanas, traders, and occasionally "trek-boors," yet none of the party knew any thing of its depth, now that the freshet was on. there were no marks to indicate the depth--no means by which they could ascertain it. they could not see the bottom, as the water was of a yellow-brown colour, in consequence of the flood. it might be three feet--it might be six--but as the current was very rapid, it would be a dangerous experiment to wade in and measure its depth in that way. what were they to do then? they were impatient to effect a crossing. how were they to do so in safety? hendrik proposed that one of them should try the ford on horseback. if they could not wade it, they might swim over. he offered to go himself. groot willem, not to be outdone by hendrik in daring, made a similar proposal. but hans, who was the eldest of the party, and whose prudent counsels were usually regarded by all, gave his advice against this course. the experiment would be too perilous, he said. should the water prove too deep, the horses would be compelled to swim, and with so rapid a current they might be carried far below the "drift,"--perhaps down to where the banks were high and steep. there they should not be able to climb out, and both horse and rider might perish. besides, urged hans, even should a rider succeed by swimming to reach the opposite side in safety, the oxen and wagons could not get over in that way, and where would be the use of crossing without _them_? none whatever. better, therefore, to wait a little longer until they should be certain that the river had subsided to its usual level. that they could ascertain by the water ceasing to fall any further, and another day would decide the point. it would only be the loss of another day. hans's reasoning was good, and so was his counsel. hendrik and groot willem acknowledged this, and agreed to act upon it; but for all that, groot willem, who was longing to get among the giraffes, buffaloes, and elephants, felt a strong desire to attempt the crossing; and hendrik, too, was similarly inclined, from the sheer love of adventure--for hendrik's fault was that of being over-courageous. both would have risked the river--even to swimming it--had it been practicable for the teams to have crossed, but as that was not believed possible, they agreed, though with rather a bad grace, to wait upon the water another day. but, after all, they were not to wait a day,--scarcely an hour. in an hour from that time they had crossed the drift--wagons, oxen, and all-- and were trekking over the plain on the opposite side! what had led to their so suddenly changing their resolution? how had they ascertained that the drift was fordable? for a knowledge of that fact they were indebted to congo the kaffir. while engaged in their discussion as to the depth of the river, the latter had been observed standing upon the bank and throwing large pebbles into the stream. thinking it was merely some freak or superstition on the part of the savage, none of them had taken any notice of him, swartboy excepted. the bushman was watching the kaffir, with glances that bespoke a keen interest in his movements. at length a loud scornful laugh, from swartboy, accompanying a series of rather rough phrases, directed the attention of the young yagers upon the kaffir. "my footy, congo! ole fool you! b'lieve you tell depth so? tink so, ole skellum? ha! ha! ha! you bania groot ole humbug! ha! ha! ha!" the kaffir took no notice of this rather insulting apostrophe, but continued to fling his pebbles as before; but the young yagers, who were also watching him, noticed that he was not throwing them carelessly, but in a peculiar manner, and their attention now became fixed upon him. they saw that each time as the pebble parted from his fingers, he bent suddenly forward, with his ear close to the surface, and in this attitude appeared to listen to the "plunge" of the stone! when the sound died away, he would rise erect again, fling another pebble _farther out than the last_, and then crouch and listen as before? "what's the kaffir about?" asked hendrik of groot willem and arend, who, being his masters, were more likely to know. neither could tell. some zooloo trick, no doubt; congo knew many a one. but what he meant by his present demonstration neither could tell. swartboy's conjecture appeared to be correct, the kaffir was _sounding the depth of the drift_. "hilloa, there! congo!" cried groot willem. "what are ye after, old boy?" "congo find how deep drift be, baas willem," was the reply. "oh! you can't tell that way; can you?" the kaffir made answer in the affirmative. "bah!" ejaculated swartboy, jealous of the interest his rival was beginning to excite; "da's all nonsense; ole fool know noffin 't all 'bout it,--dat he don't." the kaffir still took no notice of swartboy's gibes--though they no doubt nettled him a little--but kept on casting the pebbles, each one, as already stated, being flung so as to fall several feet beyond the one that preceded it. he continued at this, until the last pebble was seen to plunge within a yard or two of the opposite side of the current, here more than a hundred yards wide. then raising himself erect, and turning his face to the young yagers, he said in firm but respectful tones-- "mynheeren, you drift may cross--now." all regarded him with incredulous glances. "how deep think you it is?" inquired hans. the kaffir made answer by placing his hands upon his hips. it would reach so high. "my footy!" exclaimed swartboy, in derision. "it's twice dar depth. do you want drown us, ole fool?" "may drown _you_--nobody else!" quietly replied the kaffir, at the same time measuring swartboy with his eye, and curling his lip in derision of the bushman's short stature. the young yagers burst out into a loud laugh. swartboy felt the sting, but for some moments was unable to retort. at length he found words-- "all talk, you ole black, all talk! you make groot show,--you berry wise,--you want wagon sweep off,--you want drown da poor oxen,--you pretend so deep. if tink so, go wade da drift,--go wade yourself! ha!" swartboy thought by this challenge he had put the finisher on the kaffir. he believed that the latter would not dare to try the ford, in spite of his assertion about its depth. but swartboy was doomed to disappointment and humiliation. scarcely had he uttered the sneering challenge when the kaffir, having bent a glance upon the rest, and seeing, that they regarded him with looks of expectation, turned round and dashed down the bank to the edge of the water. all saw that he was bent upon crossing. several of them uttered cries of warning, and cautioned him to desist. but the zooloo spirit was roused, and the savage did not heed the warning cries. he did not hurry madly into the current, however; but set about the business with caution and design. they saw him stoop down by the edge of the water, and the next moment rise erect again, holding in his hands a large stone that could not have weighed much less than a hundredweight. this, to the astonishment of all, he raised upon the crown of his head, and, holding it in that position, marched boldly into the water! all saw the object of his carrying the stone,--which was, of course, to enable him by its additional weight to stem the strong current! in this he was quite successful, for although the water at certain places rose quite to his waist, in less than five minutes he stood high and dry on the opposite bank. a cheer greeted him, in which all but swartboy joined, and another received him on his return; and then the oxen were inspanned, and the horses saddled and mounted, and wagons, oxen, dogs, horses, and yagers, all crossed safely over, and continued their route northward. chapter four. a brace of "black manes." if the young yagers had met with but few adventures south of the gareep, they were not long north of it before they fell in with one of sufficient interest to be chronicled. it occurred at their very first camp after crossing. they had chosen for their camp the side of a "vley," in the midst of a wide plain, where there chanced to be both grass and water, though both of a rather indifferent kind. the plain was tolerably open, though here and there grew clumps of low bushes, and between these stood at intervals the dome-shaped houses of white ants--those of the _termes mordax_--rising to the height of several feet above the surface. they had just outspanned and permitted their oxen to wander upon the grass, when the voice of swartboy was heard exclaiming-- "de leuw! de leuw!" all looked where swartboy pointed. there, sure enough, was a lion,--a large "schwart-fore-life," or _black-maned_ one,--right out upon the plain, and beyond the place where the oxen were browsing. there was a clump of "bosch" just behind the lion. out of this he had come at sight of the oxen; and, having advanced a few yards, he had lain down among the grass, and was now watching the animals as a cat would a mouse, or a spider the unconscious fly. they had scarcely set their eyes upon him when another was seen issuing from the "bosch," and, with stealthy trot, running up to the side of her companion. _her_ companion, i say, because the second was a lioness, as the absence of a mane and the tiger-like form testified. she was scarcely inferior in size to the lion, and not a bit less fierce and dangerous in any encounter she might chance to fall in with. having joined the lion, she squatted beside him; and both now sat upon their tails, like two gigantic cats, with full front towards the camp, and evidently eyeing the oxen with hungry looks. horses, hunters, drivers, and dogs, were all in sight; but what cared the lions for that? the tempting prey was before them, and they evidently meditated an attack,--if not just then, whenever the opportunity offered. most certainly they contemplated supping either upon ox-beef or horse-flesh. now these were the first lions that had been encountered upon the expedition. "spoor" had been seen several times, and the terrible roar had been heard once or twice around the night-camp; but the "king of beasts" now appeared for the first time _in propria persona_, with his queen along with him, and of course his presence was productive of no small excitement in the yager camp. it must not be denied that this excitement partook largely of the nature of a "panic." the first fear of the hunters was for their own skins, and in this both bushman and kaffir equally shared. after a time, however, this feeling subsided. the lions would not attack the camp. they do so only on very rare occasions. it was the camp _animals_ they were after, and so long as these were present, they would not spring upon their owners. so far there was no danger, and our yagers recovered their self-possession. but it would not do to let the carnivorous brutes destroy their oxen,-- that would not do. something must be done to secure them. a kraal must be made at once, and the animals driven into it. the lions lay quietly on the plain, though still in a menacing attitude. but they were a good way off--full five hundred yards--and were not likely to attack the oxen so close to the camp. the huge wagons--strange sight to them--no doubt had the effect of restraining them for the present. they either waited until the oxen should browse nearer, or till night would enable them to approach the latter unobserved. as soon, then, as it was perceived that they were not bent upon an immediate attack, groot willem and hendrik mounted their horses, rode cautiously out beyond the oxen, and quietly drove the latter to the other side of the vley. there they were herded by klaas and jan; while all the rest, swartboy and congo included, went to work with axe and bill-hook in the nearest thicket of "wait-a-bit" thorns. in less than half-an-hour a sufficient number of bushes were cut to form, with the help of the wagons, a strong kraal; and inside this, both horses and oxen were driven,--the former made fast to the wheel-spokes, while the latter were clumped up loosely within the enclosure. the hunters now felt secure. they had kindled a large fire on each side of the kraal, though they knew that this will not always keep lions off. but they trusted to their guns; and as they would sleep inside the canvass tents of their wagons, closing both "voor" and "achter-claps," they had nothing to fear. it would be a hungry lion, indeed, that would have attempted to break the strong kraal they had made; and no lion, however hungry, would ever think of charging into a wagon. having made all secure, therefore, they seated themselves around one of their fires, and set about cooking their dinner, or rather dinner-supper, for it was to include both meals. their journey prevented them from dining earlier. they chanced to have little else than _biltong_, or dried meat, to cook. the long wait by the drift had consumed their stock of fine springbok venison, which they had laid in some days before. it is true they had venison in camp, but it was that of the "reitbok," or reed-buck--so called from its habit of frequenting the long reeds by the banks of rivers; and it was while they were journeying through a belt of these after crossing the drift, that this one had been shot by hendrik. a small antelope the reitbok is--the _antilope eleotragus_ of naturalists. it stands less than three feet in height, formed much like the springbok, but with a rougher coat of hair, of an ashy grey colour, and silver white underneath. its horns, however, are not lyrate, as in the springbok, but rise first in the plane of its forehead, and then curve boldly forward to the tips. they are about twelve inches in length, wrinkled at the base, prominently ringed in the middle, and smooth near the points. the reitbok, as its name implies, inhabits the reedy bottoms by the margins of streams and rivers, and its food consists of plants growing in humid and marshy situations. hence its flesh is inferior to that of most south african antelopes, and it was not a favourite with the young yagers. although it had been brought along, they preferred even the dry biltong, and it was left to the less delicate appetites of swartboy and congo. now the hunters, hendrik and groot willem, would have gone out to look for a springbok, or some other game, but the presence of the lions prevented that; and so the boys were obliged to content themselves with a slice of the biltong; and each, having cut him a short stick for a spit, set about broiling his piece over the coals. during all this time the lion and lioness kept the position they had taken on the plain, scarce once having changed their attitude. they were waiting patiently the approach of night. groot willem and hendrik had both advised making an attack upon them; but in this case they again gave way to the more prudent counsel of hans, strengthened, perhaps, by his reminding them of the instructions they had received from both their fathers at setting out. these instructions were,--never to attack a lion without good reason for so doing, but always to give the "ole leuw" a wide berth when it was possible to do so. it is well known that the lion will rarely attack man when not first assailed; and therefore the advice given to the young yagers was sound and prudent? and they followed it. it wanted yet an hour or two of sunset. the lions still sat squatted on the grass, closely observed by the hunters. all at once the eyes of the latter became directed upon a new object. slowly approaching over the distant plain, appeared two strange animals, similar in form, and nearly so in size and colour. each was about the size of an ass, and not unlike one in colour,--especially that variety of the ass which is of a buff or fulvous tint. their forms, however, were more graceful than that of the ass, though they were far from being light or slender. on the contrary, they were of a full, round, bold outline. they were singularly marked about the head and face. the ground colour of these parts was white, but four dark bands were so disposed over them as to give the animals the appearance of wearing a headstall of black leather. the first of these bands descended in a streak down the forehead; another passed through the eyes to the corners of the mouth; a third embraced the nose; while a fourth ran from the base of the ears passing under the throat--a regular throat-strap--thus completing the resemblance to the stall-halter. a reversed mane, a dark list down the back, and a long black bushy tail reaching to the ground, were also characters to be observed. but what rendered these animals easily to be distinguished from all others was the splendid pair of horns which each carried. these horns were straight, slender, pointing backwards almost horizontally. they were regularly ringed till within a few inches of their tips, which were as sharp as steel spits. in both they were of a deep jet colour, shining like ebony, and full three feet in length. but what was rather singular, the horns of the smaller animal--for there was some difference in their size--were longer than those of the larger one! the former was the female, the latter the male, therefore the horns of the female were more developed than those of the male--an anomaly among animals of the antelope tribe, for antelopes they were. the young yagers had no difficulty in distinguishing their kind. at the first glance they all recognised the beautiful "oryx," one of the loveliest animals of africa, one of the fairest creatures in the world. chapter five. lions stalking the gemsbok. on seeing the "gemsbok"--for by such name is the oryx known to the cape colonists--the first thought of the young yagers was how they should kill or capture one of them. beautiful as these creatures looked upon the plain, our hunters would have fancied them better on the spit--for they well knew that the venison of the gemsbok is delicious eating--not surpassed by that of any other antelope, the eland perhaps excepted. the first thought of the yagers, then, was a steak of gemsbok venison for dinner. it might throw their dinner a little later, but it would be so much of a better one than dry biltong, that they were willing to wait. the slices of jerked meat, already half-broiled, were at once put aside, and guns were grasped in the place of roasting-sticks. what was the best course to be pursued? that was the next question. it would scarce be possible to stalk the gemsboks. they are among the most wary of antelopes. they rarely approach near any cover that might shelter an enemy; and when alarmed they strike off in a straight line, and make for the open desert plains--their natural home. to stalk them, is a most difficult thing, and rarely attempted by the hunter. they can only be captured by a swift horse, and after a severe chase. even from the swiftest horse they often make their escape; for in the first burst of a mile or two they can run like the wind. a good horse, however, has more "bottom" than they, and if well managed will in time overtake them. the hunters having seized their guns, next thought of their horses. should they saddle and ride out after the gemsboks? that would have been their course at once, and without further consideration, had they not observed that the antelopes were coming directly towards them. if they continued in the same course much longer, they, the yagers, need not stir from the spot. the game would approach within shot and save them the trouble of a chase. this would be very agreeable, as the hunters were hungry, and their horses tired after a hard day's journeying. there was some probability that the gemsboks would give them the chance they wished for. the camp was well hidden among the bushes. the smoke of the fire alone showed its situation, but the antelopes might not perceive this, or if so, might not regard it as a thing to be feared. besides, as groot willem and hendrik observed, the vley was close by, and both believed the antelopes were on their way to the water. the student hans, however, corrected them in this belief, by telling them that the oryx is an animal _that never drinks_,--that it is quite independent of springs, streams, or vleys,--one of those creatures which nature has formed to dwell in the desert, where no water exists! it was not likely then that the gemsboks were coming to the vley. the hunters need make no calculation on that. at all events, they were certainly approaching the camp. they were heading straight for it, and were already less than a thousand yards from the spot. there would scare be time to saddle before they should come within shot, or else start off alarmed at the appearance of the smoke. the hunters, therefore, gave up all thoughts of a chase; and, crouching forward to the outer edge of the grove, they knelt down behind the bushes to await the approach of the antelopes. the latter still kept steadily on, apparently unconscious of danger. surely they had not yet perceived the smoke, else they would have shown symptoms either of curiosity or alarm! the wind was blowing in the same direction in which they marched, or their keen sense of smell would have warned them of the dangerous proximity of the hunter's camp. but it did not; and they continued with slow but unaltered pace to approach the spot, where no less than six dark muzzles--a full battery of small arms--were waiting to give them a volley. it was not the destiny of either of the gemsboks to die by a leaden bullet. death, sudden and violent awaited them, though not from the hand of man. it was to come from a different quarter. as the yagers lay watching the approach of the antelopes, their eyes had wandered for a moment from the lions; but a movement on the part of these again drew attention to them. up to a certain period they had remained in an upright attitude, squatted upon their tails, but all at once they were observed to crouch flat down, as if to conceal themselves under the grass, while their heads were turned in a new direction. they were turned towards the gemsboks. they had caught sight of the latter as they approached over the plain; and it was evident that they contemplated an attack upon them. now if the antelopes continued on in the same course, it would carry them quite clear of the lions, so that the latter would have no advantage. a gemsbok can soon scour off from a lion, as the latter is at best but a poor runner, and secures his prey by a sudden spring or two, or else not at all. unless, therefore, the lions could obtain the advantage of getting within bounding distance of the antelopes without being seen by them, their chances of making a capture would be poor enough. they knew this, and to effect that purpose--that of getting near--now appeared to be their design. the lion was observed to crawl off from the spot in a direction that would enable him to get upon the path of the gemsboks, between them and the camp. by a series of manoeuvres,-- now crawling flat along the grass, like a cat after a partridge; now pausing behind a bush or an ant-heap to survey the game; then trotting lightly on to the next,--he at length reached a large ant-hill that stood right by the path in which the antelopes were advancing. he seemed to be satisfied of this, for he stopped here and placed himself close in to the base of the hill, so that only a small portion of his head projected on the side towards the game. his whole body, however, and every movement he made, were visible to the hunters from _their_ ambush in the grove. but where was the lioness? she was no longer by the _bosch_ where first seen. where had she gone? not with the lion? no. on the contrary, she had gone in a direction nearly opposite to that taken by him. their eyes had been busy with his movements, and they had not noticed hers. now, however, that the lion had come to a halt, they looked abroad for his mate, and saw her far out upon the plain. they saw that she was progressing in the same way the lion had done,--now crawling among the grass, now trotting swiftly from bush to bush, and pausing a moment behind each, but evidently bending her course so as to arrive _in the rear_ of the antelopes! the "strategy" of the lions was now perceived. they had evidently planned it before separating. the lion was to place himself in ambush upon the path, while the lioness swept round to the rear and forced the antelopes forward; or should the latter become alarmed and retreat, the lion could then show himself in pursuit, and run the frightened game back into the clutches of the lioness. the thing was well calculated, and although it was likely to rob the hunters of their game, they had grown so interested in the movements of the carnivora and their intended victims, that they thought only of watching the spectacle to its end. the ambuscade was well planned, and in a few minutes its success was no longer doubtful. the gemsboks advanced steadily towards the ant-hill, occasionally switching about their black bushy tails; but that was to rid their flanks of the flies, and not from any apprehension of danger. the lioness had completed the great _detour_ she had made, and was now seen crouching after them, though still far to the rear. as the antelopes drew near the ant-hill, the lion was observed to draw back his head until it was nearly concealed under his black shaggy mane. they could not possibly have seen him where he lay, nor he them, and he now appeared to trust to his ears to inform him of their approach. he waited till both were opposite, and broadside toward him, at the distance of less than twenty paces from the hill. then his tail was seen to vibrate with one or two quick jerks, his head shot suddenly forth, his body spread out apparently to twice its natural size, and the next moment he rose like a bird into the air! with one bound he cleared the wide space that separated him from the nearest of the gemsboks, alighting on the hind-quarters of the terrified animal. a single blow of his powerful paw brought the antelope on its haunches; and another, delivered almost at the same instant, stretched its body lifeless on the plain! without looking after the other, or seeming to care further about it, the lion sprang upon the body of his victim, and, clutching its throat between his jaws, commenced drinking its warm blood. it was the bull gemsbok which the lion had pulled down, as this was the one that happened to be nearest the hill. as the lion sprang upon her companion, the cow of course started with affright, and all supposed they would see her the next moment scouring off over the plains. to their astonishment she did no such thing. such is not the nature of the noble oryx. on the contrary, as soon as she recovered from the first moments of alarm, she wheeled round towards the enemy; and, lowering her head to the very ground, so that her long horns projected horizontally in front, she rushed with all her strength upon the lion! the latter, in full enjoyment of his red draught, saw nothing of this manoeuvre. the first intimation he had of it was to feel a pair of spears pierced right through his ribs, and it is not likely he felt much more. for some moments a confused struggling was observed, in which both lion and oryx seemed to take part; but the attitudes of both appeared so odd, and changed so rapidly, that the spectators could not tell in what manner they were combating. the roar of the lion however had ceased, and was now succeeded by the more shrill tones of the lioness, who, bounding forward upon the spot, mixed at once in the melee. a single touch of her claws brought the cow oryx to the earth, and ended the strife; and the lioness now stood over the victims screaming her note of triumph. was it a note of triumph? there was something odd in its tone-- something singular in the movements of the creature that uttered it-- something strange about the whole thing. why was the lion silent? his roar had ceased, and he lay embracing the carcass of the bull gemsbok, and apparently drinking its blood. yet he was perfectly without motion, not a muscle could be seen to move, not a quiver of his tawny hide betokened that he breathed or lived! was he dead? chapter six. an angry lioness. certainly there was something mysterious about the matter. the lion still kept his position; no motion could be observed, no sound escaped him; whereas the lioness uttered incessantly her shrill growling, at the same time pacing to and fro, round and round, the confused heap of bodies! she made no attempt to feed, though her prey lay bleeding before her. surely her lord was not the cause of her abstinence! did he insist upon having both the carcasses to himself? sometimes it is so. sometimes an old male plays the selfish tyrant, and keeps the younger and weaker members of his family off, till he has gorged himself, permitting them to make a "second table" of his leavings. in the present instance this was not likely. there were two whole carcasses,--large fat carcasses,--enough for both. besides, the lioness was evidently the lion's own mate--his wife. it was scarcely probable he would treat her so. among human beings instances of such selfishness,--such a gross want of gallantry, are, i regret to say, by no means rare; but the young yagers could not believe the lion guilty of such shabby conduct--the lion, buffon's type of nobility! no such thing. but how was it? the lioness still growled and paced about, ever and anon stooping near the head of her partner, which was not visible from the camp, and placing her snout in contact with his as if kissing him. still there was no sign of any response, no motion on his part; and, after watching for a good while without perceiving any, the hunters at length became satisfied that the lion was dead. he was dead--as julius caesar or a door-nail, and so, too, was the brace of gemsboks. the lioness was the only living thing left from that sanguinary conflict! as soon as the hunters became satisfied of this, they began to deliberate among themselves what was best to be done. they wished to get possession of the venison, but there was no hope of their being able to do so, as long as the lioness remained upon the ground. to have attempted to drive her off at that moment would have been a most perilous undertaking. she was evidently excited to madness, and would have charged upon any creature that had shown itself in her neighbourhood. the frenzied manner in which she paced about, and lashed her sides with her tail, her fierce and determined look, and deep angry growl, all told the furious rage she was in. there was menace in her every movement. the hunters saw this, and prudently withdrew themselves--so as to be near the wagons in case she might come that way. they thought that by waiting awhile she would go off, and then they could drag the antelopes up to camp. but after waiting a good while, they observed no change in the conduct of the fierce brute. she still paced around as before, and abstained from touching the carcasses. as one of the yagers observed, she continued to "play the dog in the manger,"--would neither eat herself, nor suffer anybody else to eat. this remark, which was made by little jan, elicited a round of laughter that sounded in strange contrast with the melancholy howl of the lioness, which still continued to terrify the animals of the camp. even the dogs cowered among the wheels of the wagons, or kept close to the heels of their masters. it is true that many of these faithful brutes, had they been set on, would have manfully battled with the lioness, big as she was. but the young yagers well knew that dogs before the paws of an angry lion are like mice under the claws of a cat. they did not think of setting them on, unless they had themselves made an attack; and that, the advice of hans, coupled with the counsels they had received before leaving home, prevented them from doing. they had no intention of meddling with the lioness; and hoped she would soon retire, and leave the game, or part of it, on the ground. after waiting a long while, and seeing that the lioness showed no symptoms of leaving the spot, they despaired of dining on oryx venison, and once more set to broiling their slices of biltong. they had not yet commenced eating, when they perceived a new arrival upon the scene of the late struggle. half-a-dozen hyenas appeared upon the ground; and although these had not yet touched the carcasses, but were standing a little way off--through fear of the lioness--their hungry looks told plainly what their intention was in coming there. now the presence of these hideous brutes was a new point for consideration. if the lioness should allow them to begin their feast upon the antelopes, in a very short while scarce a morsel of either would remain. the yagers, although they had resigned all hope of dining on the gemsbok venison, nevertheless looked forward to making their supper of it; but if the hyenas were permitted to step in, they would be disappointed. how were the brutes to be kept off? to drive them off would be just as perilous an undertaking as to drive off the lioness herself. once more groot willem and hendrik talked about attacking the latter; but, as before, were opposed by hans, who had to use all his influence with his companions before he could induce them to abandon the rash project. at this moment an unexpected proposal put an end to their discussion. the proposal came from congo the kaffir. it was neither less nor more than that he himself should go forth and do battle with the lioness! "what! alone?" "alone." "you are mad, congo. you would be torn to pieces!" "no fear, mynheeren. congo the leuw kill without getting scratch. you see, young masters." "what! without arms? without a gun?" "congo not know how use one," replied the kaffir, "you see how i do 'im," he continued. "all congo ask you not come in way. young masters, here stay and congo leave to himself. no danger. mynheeren, congo fear if go yonder help him--leuw very mad. congo not care for that--so much mad, so much better--leuw no run away." "but what do you intend to do, congo?" "mynheeren soon all see--see how congo kill lion." the hunters were disposed to look upon the kaffir as about to make a reckless exposure of his life. swartboy would have treated the proposal as a boast, and laughed thereat, but swartboy remembered the humiliation he had had in the morning on account of similar conduct; and though he feared to be farther outstripped in hunter-craft by his rival, he had the prudence upon this occasion to conceal his envy. he bit his thick lips, and remained silent. some of the boys, and especially hans, would have dissuaded congo from his purpose; but groot willem was inclined to let him have his way. groot willem knew the kaffir better than any of the others. he knew, moreover, that savage as he was, he was not going to act any foolish part for the mere sake of braggadocio. he could be trusted. so said groot willem. this argument, combined with a desire to eat gemsbok venison for supper, had its effect. arend and hans gave in. congo had full permission to battle with the lioness. chapter seven. how congo the kaffir killed a lioness. congo had now become an object of as great interest as in the morning. greater in fact, for the new danger he was about to undergo--a combat with an enraged lioness--was accounted still greater than that of fording the gareep, and the interest was in proportion. with eager eyes the young yagers stood watching him as he prepared himself for the encounter. he was but a short while in getting ready. he was seen to enter the van wyk wagon, and in less than three minutes come out again fully armed and equipped. the lioness would not have long to wait for her assailant. the equipment of the kaffir must needs be described. it was simple enough, though odd to a stranger's eye. it was neither more nor less than the equipment of a zooloo warrior. in his right hand he held a bunch of _assegais_,--in all six of them. what is an "assegai?" it is a straight lance or spear, though not to be used as one. it is smaller than either of these weapons, shorter and more slender in the shaft, but like them armed with an iron head of arrow shape. in battle it is not retained in the hand, but flung at the enemy, often from a considerable distance. it is, in short, a "javelin," or "dart,"--such as was used in europe before fire-arms became known, and such as at present forms the war weapon of all the savage tribes of southern africa, but especially those of the kaffir nations. and well know they how to project this dangerous missile. at the distance of a hundred yards they will send it with a force as great, and an aim as unerring, as either bullet or arrow! the assegai is flung by a single arm. of these javelins congo carried six, spanning their slender shafts with his long muscular fingers. the assegais were not the oddest part of his equipment. that was a remarkable thing which he bore on his left arm. it was of oval form, full six feet in length by about three in width, concave on the side towards his body, and equally convex on the opposite. more than any thing else did it resemble a small boat or canoe made of skins stretched over a framework of wood, and of such materials was it constructed. it was, in fact, a shield,--a zooloo shield--though of somewhat larger dimensions than those used in war. notwithstanding its great size it was far from clumsy, but light, tight, and firm,--so much so that arrow, assegai, or bullet, striking it upon the convex side, would have glanced off as from a plate of steel. a pair of strong bands fastened inside along the bottom enabled the wearer to move it about at will; and placed upright, with its lower end resting upon the ground, it would have sheltered the body of the tallest man. it sheltered that of congo, and congo was no dwarf. without another word he walked out, the huge _carapace_ on his left arm, five of the assegais clutched in his left hand, while one that he had chosen for the first throw he held in his right. this one was grasped near the middle, and carried upon the balance. no change had taken place in the situation of affairs out upon the plain. in fact, there had not been much time for any. scarce five minutes had elapsed from the time the kaffir stated his purpose, until he went forth to execute it. the lioness was still roaming about, uttering her frightful screams. the hyenas were still there. the moment the kaffir was seen approaching, the cowardly hyenas fled with a howl, and soon disappeared under the bosch. far different with the lioness. she seemed to pay no regard to the approach of the hunter. she neither turned her head, nor looked in the direction he was coming. her whole attention was absorbed by the mass of bodies upon the plain. she yelled her savage notes as she regarded them. she was no doubt lamenting the fate of her grim and swarthy partner, that lay dead before her eyes. at all events, she did not seem to notice the hunter, until he had got within twenty paces of the spot! at that distance the kaffir halted, rested his huge shield upon the ground--still holding it erect--poised the assegai a moment in his right hand, and then sent it whizzing through the air. it pierced the side of the tawny brute, and hung quivering between her ribs. only for a moment. the fierce animal doubled round upon herself, caught the shaft in her teeth, and broke it off as if it had been a straw! the blade of the assegai still remained in the flesh, but the lioness waited no longer. she had now perceived her enemy; and, uttering a vengeful scream, she sprang towards him. with one tremendous bound she cleared three-fourths of the space that lay between them, and a second would have carried her upon the shoulders of the kaffir; but the latter was prepared to receive her, and, as she rose to her second leap, he disappeared suddenly from the scene! as if by magic he had vanished; and had not the boys been watching his every movement, they would have been at a loss to know what had become of him. but they knew that under that oval convex form, whose edges rested upon the earth, lay congo the kaffir. there lay he, like a tortoise in its shell, clutching the straps with all his might, and pressing his carapace firmly against the ground! the lioness was more astonished than the spectators. at the second leap she pitched right down upon the shield, but the drum-like noise made by her weight, and the hard firm substance encountered by her claws, quite disconcerted her, and springing aside she stood gazing at the odd object with looks of alarm! she stood but for a moment, and then, uttering a savage growl of disappointment, turned tail upon it, and trotted off! this growl guided congo. the shield was raised from the ground--only on one side, and but a very little way at first--just enough to enable the hunter to see the stern of the retreating lioness. then the kaffir rose quickly to his feet, and, holding the shield erect, prepared for the casting of a second assegai. this was quickly thrown and pierced the animal in the flank, where shaft and all remained sticking in the flesh. the lioness turned with redoubled fury, once more charged upon her assailant, and, as before, was met by the hard convex surface of the shield. this time she did not immediately retreat, but stood menacing the strange object, striking it with her clawed hoofs, and endeavouring to turn it over. now was the moment of peril for congo. had the lioness succeeded in making a capsize, it would have been all up with him, poor fellow! but he knew the danger, and with one hand clutching the leathern straps, and the other bearing upon the edge of the frame, he was able to hold firm and close,--closer even "than a barnacle to a ship's copper." after venting her rage in several impotent attempts to break or overturn the carapace, the lioness at length went growling away towards her former position. her growls, as before, guided the actions of congo. he was soon upon his feet, another assegai whistled through the air, and pierced through the neck of the lioness. but, as before, the wound was not fatal, and the animal, now enraged to a frenzy, charged once more upon her assailant. so rapid was her advance that it was with great difficulty congo got under cover. a moment later, and his ruse would have failed, for the claws of the lion rattled upon the shield as it descended. he succeeded, however, in planting himself firmly, and was once more safe under the thick buffalo hide. the lioness now howled with disappointed rage; and after spending some minutes in fruitless endeavours to upset the shield, she once more desisted. this time, however, instead of going away, the angry brute kept pacing round and round, and at length _lay down within three feet of the spot_. congo was besieged! the boys saw at a glance that congo was a captive. the look of the lioness told them this. though she was several hundred yards off, they could see that she wore an air of determination, and was not likely to depart from the spot without having her revenge. there could be no question about it,--the kaffir was in "a scrape." should the lioness remain, how was he to get out of it? he could not escape by any means. to raise the shield would be to tempt the fierce brute upon him. nothing could be plainer than that. the boys shouted aloud to warn him of his danger. they feared that he might not be aware of the close proximity of his enemy. notwithstanding the danger there was something ludicrous in the situation in which the kaffir was placed; and the young hunters, though anxious about the result, could scarce keep from laughter, as they looked forth upon the plain. there lay the lioness within three feet of the shield, regarding it with fixed and glaring eyes, and at intervals uttering her savage growls. there lay the oval form, with congo beneath, motionless and silent. a strange pair of adversaries, indeed! long time the lioness kept her close vigil, scarce moving her body from its crouching attitude. her tail only vibrated from side to side, and the muscles of her jaws quivered with subdued rage. the boys shouted repeatedly to warn congo; though no reply came from the hollow interior of the carapace. they might have spared their breath. the cunning kaffir knew as well as they the position of his enemy. her growls, as well as her loud breathing, kept him admonished of her whereabouts; and he well understood how to act under the circumstances. for a full half-hour this singular scene continued; and as the lioness showed no signs of deserting her post, the young yagers at length determined upon an attack, or, at all events, a feint that would draw her off. it was close upon sunset, and should night come down what would become of congo? in the darkness he might be destroyed. he might relax his watchfulness,--he might go to sleep, and then his relentless enemy would have the advantage. something must be done to release him from his narrow prison,--and at once. they had saddled and mounted their horses, and were about to ride forth, when the sharp-eyed hans noticed that the lioness was much farther off from the shield than when he last looked that way. and yet she had not moved,--at all events, no one had seen her stir--and she was still in the very same attitude! how then? "ha! look yonder! the shield is moving!" as hans uttered these words the eyes of all turned suddenly upon the carapace. sure enough, it was moving. slowly and gradually it seemed to glide along the ground, like a huge tortoise, though its edges remained close to the surface. although impelled by no visible power, all understood what this motion meant,--congo was the moving power! the yagers held their bridles firm, and sat watching with breathless interest. in a few minutes more the shield had moved full ten paces from the crouching lioness. the latter seemed not to notice this change in the relative position of herself and her cunning adversary. if she did, she beheld it rather with feelings of curiosity or wonder than otherwise. at all events, she kept her post until the curious object had gone a wide distance from her. she might not have suffered it to go much farther; but it was now far enough for her adversary's purpose, for the shield suddenly became erect, and the kaffir once more sent his assegai whirring from his hand. it was the fatal shaft. the lioness chanced to be crouching broadside towards the hunter. his aim was true, and the barbed iron pierced through her heart. a sharp growl, that was soon stifled,--a short despairing struggle, that soon ended, and the mighty brute lay motionless in the dust! a loud "hurrah!" came from the direction of the camp, and the young yagers now galloped forth upon the plain, and congratulated congo upon the successful result of his perilous conflict. the group of dead bodies was approached, and there a new surprise awaited the hunters. the lion was dead, as they had long since conjectured,--the sharp horns of the oryx had done the work; but what astonished all of them was, that the horns that had impaled the body of the great lion still remained sticking in his side. the oryx had been unable to extricate them, and would thus have perished along with her victim, even had the lioness not arrived to give the fatal blow! this, both congo and swartboy assured the party, was no uncommon occurrence, and the bodies of the lion and gemsbok are often found upon the plains locked in this fatal embrace! the cow gemsbok, yielding the more tender venison, was soon skinned and cut up; and as the delicious steaks spurted over the red coals of their camp-fire, the young yagers became very merry, and laughed at the singular incidents of the day. chapter eight. a short chat about lions. before going to supper the hunters dragged the carcasses of both lion and lioness close up to the camp-fire. a good pull it was, but they managed it by attaching strong "rheims" of raw hide around the necks of the creatures, and sliding them with the grain of the hair. their object in bringing them to the fire was, that they might have light to skin them,--not that they deem the lion-hides of any great value, except as trophies of their expedition--and they were not going to leave such trophies on the plain. had the lions been permitted to remain all night where they had been killed, the hyenas would have eaten them up before morning,--skins and all. it is a fable which tells that the hyena will not eat the dead lion. the filthy brute will eat anything, even one of his own kind,--perhaps the most unpalatable morsel he could well find. of course the oryx were also brought up to the camp to be skinned and cut up. the bull, as large and heavy as a dead ass, gave them a good pull for it. but it afforded groot willem an opportunity of exhibiting his enormous strength; and the big boy, seizing the tow-rope, dragged the oryx after him with as much ease as if it had been a kitten at the end of a string of twine. both the gemsboks were regularly "butchered" and cut into quarters, to be carried to the next camp, and there dried. they would have dried the meat on the spot, but the water where they had halted was not good, and they did not wish to remain there another day. the horns of the oryx are also esteemed trophies of the chase, and those of both that were killed being perfect specimens--long, handsomely ringed, and black as ebony--were added to the collection which the young yagers were forming, and stowed safely away in the wagons. the heads, with the skins left on, were carefully cleaned and preserved, at no distant day to become ornaments in the _voor-huis_, or entrance-hall, either of the von bloom or van wyk mansions. all these matters being arranged, the yagers sat down to supper around the camp-fire. the roast ribs and steaks of the gemsbok venison proved delicious, and the whole party, as already stated, were contented and merry. of course lions were the subject of conversation, and all laughed again and again whenever they thought of congo and his encounter. all of them, little jan and klaas excepted, had stories to tell of adventures with lions, for these animals were still to be found in the graaf reinet, and both groot willem and arend had been present at more than one lion-hunt. hans and hendrik had met them in many an encounter during the great elephant expedition, and swartboy was an old hottentot lion-hunter. but congo seemed to know more of the lion than even swartboy, though the latter would have gone wild had such a thing been hinted at by any one of the party; and many a rival story of strange interest fell from the lips of both kaffir and bushman at that same camp-fire. some of the party had heard of a mode of lion-hunting practised by the bechuana tribes, and, indeed, in congo's own country. there was nothing very novel about the mode. a number of people,--naked savages they were,-- attacked the lion wherever they met him, either in the bush or on the open plain, and there fought him to the death. these people carried for arms only the assegai, and, as a sort of defensive weapon, a mop of black ostrich-feathers fastened upon the end of a slender stick, and somewhat resembling a large fly-brush. the object of this was to disconcert the lion when rushing upon the hunter. by sticking it in the ground at the right moment, the lion mistakes the clump of ostrich-feathers for his real assailant, and, charging upon it, permits the hunter to escape. such a _ruse_ is far inferior to the trick of the carapace, but that singular mode of defence against the lion was only practised by such cunning hunters as congo. now, as already stated, the plan practised by the bechuana savages had nothing very novel or strange in it. any strangeness about it consisted in the fact of the imprudence of such a mode of attack; for it was said that the hunters did not stand off at a distance and cast their assegais, on the contrary, they retained these weapons in their hands, and used them as spears, approaching the lion close enough to thrust them into his body! the consequence was, that in every encounter with their terrible antagonist, several hunters were either killed or badly mangled. this was the thing that appeared strange to our young yagers. they could not understand why any hunters should attack the fierce lion thus boldly and recklessly, when they might avoid the encounter altogether! they could not understand why even savages should be so regardless of life. was it true that any people hunted the lion in that way? they asked congo if it was true. he replied that it was. now this required explanation,--and congo was requested to give it, which he did as follows. the hunters spoken of were not _volunteers. they did not attack the lion of their own will and pleasure, but at the command of the tyrant that ruled them_. it was so in congo's country, where the sanguinary monster, chaaka, had sway. the _whole people of chaaka were his slaves_, and he thought nothing of putting a thousand of them to death in a single morning to gratify some petty spleen or dislike! he had done so on more than one occasion, often adding torture. the tales of horrors practised by these african despots would be incredible were it not for the full clear testimony establishing their truth; and, although it forms no excuse for slavery, the contemplation of such a state of things in africa lessens our disgust for the system of american bondage. even the atrocious slave-trade, with all the horrors of the "middle passage," appears mild in comparison with the sufferings endured by the subjects of such fearful tyrants as chaaka, dingaan, or moselekatse! congo related to the young yagers that it was customary for chaaka's people to act as the herdsmen of his numerous flocks, and that when any of his cattle were killed by a lion,--a frequent occurrence,--the unfortunate creatures who herded them were commanded to hunt the lion, and bring in his head, or _suffer death_ in case of failure; and this sentence was sure to be carried into effect. this explained the apparently reckless conduct of the hunters. congo further stated that he had been compelled to take part in several of these lion-hunts, in each of which the lives of men were sacrificed. he spoke of one in particular where no less than ten hunters had been killed before the lion was _captured_;--captured, not killed, for on this occasion the despot had taken a whim into his head, and ordered the fierce animal to be _taken alive_! his command was, that if the lion were not brought before him alive, and without a wound or scratch, every man engaged in the hunt should suffer death! as the unfortunate hunters well knew the threat was no idle one, they caught the lion in their naked arms, and succeeded in tying him, but not until ten of their number had fallen victims to their involuntary zeal! to these and other tales of lions did the young yagers listen as they sat around the blazing camp-fire. chapter nine. the unicorn. the oryx next became the subject of conversation, and swartboy could tell more about it than any one. of the oryx congo knew very little, as the region most frequented by this beautiful antelope lies farther west than the country of the kaffir tribes. its headquarters are in the land of the namaquas, though it is thinly scattered all around the borders of the great kalihari desert. the oryx is a desert-dwelling antelope, can live without water, and grows fat even on the plants that thinly vegetate over the barren soil. it is a bold creature--often beats off the lion, or kills him by impalement on its long bayonet-like horns. of the truth of this fact our yagers had that day had proof. the oryx when hunted does not, like many other antelopes, make for either water or cover. it strikes in a straight line for its desert home, trusting to its heels for safety. and its confidence in them is seldom misplaced. a swift horse alone can overtake and bring it to a stand; unless it be very fat, and then it is more easily "blown." an interesting point occurred in the conversation about the oryx. arend and some of the others had read in several books of travellers that the oryx was supposed to be the fabled "unicorn," derived from egyptian sculptures. they asked if this was the case. their question was not put to swartboy, you may be sure, but to hans the naturalist, of course. hans regarded the supposition as a very silly one. a mere fancy of some early south african traveller, that had been repeated, parrot-like, in the books of other travellers and the writings of several closet-naturalists. the supposition of the oryx being the original of the unicorn rested only upon the fact that its horns when seen _en profile_ appear as but one; and the unicorn is so figured on the egyptian sculptures. now this argument can be advanced in favour of several other antelopes, and therefore falls at once to the ground as regards the oryx. hans mentioned several reasons why the gemsbok could not be the "fabled unicorn." its form, and particularly the shape of its head, are quite unlike the sculptures of that famous creature. its horns, both in length and "set," even when seen _en profile_, differ altogether from that of the unicorn, which points forward, whereas the horns of the oryx extend backward almost horizontally, and sometimes even touching the flanks of the animal. "no," continued hans; "if the egyptian unicorn be not a fable--if it be the representation of any animal in africa, that animal is the gnoo; and i regard it as something singular that the resemblance between the gnoo--i mean the common species, not the `brindled'--and the fabled unicorn, has not long since been noticed by naturalists and travellers. "i should fancy that no one could look upon the pictures of both without being struck by this resemblance. their forms, both of head and body, the elegant rounding of limb, the split hoof, the long tufted tails, the proud arching necks, with full flowing mane,--all these points go to show that the gnoo was copied for the unicorn. the _one_ horn is the only circumstance that appears to invalidate my theory, but even in this respect the gnoo bears a much greater resemblance to the unicorn than does the oryx. the horns of the gnoo are set in such a manner that it often appears a _unicorn_. their tips do not rise above the level of the skull; and in consequence of this, and also from the manner in which the animal frequently carries its head, only one horn is visible, the other being, inconspicuous against the dark ground of the head and mane. often only half the horn appears at a distance, and is then seen pointing forward and `set,' very similarly to the brow ornaments of the unicorn. "the horn of the unicorn is usually represented quite straight in modern paintings; but this is not correct, according to the egyptian sculpture, where a curve is given,--a positive imitation of the curve in the horns of the oryx! even though it were straight, this would scarce invalidate my theory, for the horns of the young oryx are straight also, and we might suppose a young one to be represented. "i do not beg the question in this way, however," continued hans, "for i know that whatever animal the egyptians meant on their sculptures must have been well known to them, and it is not likely that they would have pictured a specimen of immature age. the singular character of the gnoo, its odd and eccentric habits, as well as the eccentricity of its form and appearance, must have drawn attention to it from the earliest times, and such an animal would not fail to be pictured by the egyptians. as to the one horn, i regard the existence of that, either as the result of imperfect observation on the part of the egyptian sculptors, or, what is more likely, a want of knowledge of their art. egyptian sculpture is at best but a rude affair, and the peculiar curve and set of the oryx horns are difficult to depict. even in this very hour of high art, our painters do not give the most correct delineation of the head of a gemsbok. so, you see, i make out a tolerably clear case, that the gnoo of south africa is the original of that mysterious celebrity--the _unicorn_." the naturalist had fairly established his point, to the satisfaction of all the young yagers, who then asked him some questions about the unicorn mentioned in the bible. "as to the unicorn of scripture," replied hans, "that is a very different affair. there can be no mistake about the animal meant by job when he wrote, `canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys after thee? wilt thou trust him because his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labour to him?' this is, in reality, a unicorn--the _one-horned rhinoceros_." resuming the subject of the oryx, hans informed his companions that this animal formed the type of a genus of animals called _oryx_, of which there were three other species,--the "addax," the "abu-harb," and the "algazel." the "addax" (_oryx addax_) is a native of central africa generally, and is nearly as large as the oryx; but its horns, instead of being straight, are twisted spirally. they are smaller in the female, which is agreeable to the usual disposition of these appendages, though contrary to that of the horns of the gemsbok. the colour of the addax is greyish-white over the body, and reddish-brown upon the head and neck, with a white patch across the face. it is not gregarious, but lives in pairs on the sandy deserts, for traversing which its broad hoofs are peculiarly adapted. it was known to the ancients, and pliny speaks of it under the name _strepsiceros_. the "abu-harb" (_oryx leucoryx_) is also a large powerful antelope, with long sharp horns slightly curved backward. its colour is cream-white, with a brown mark on the forehead, another on the cheeks, and a rust-brown colour over the neck and throat. in form it bears a good deal of resemblance to the oryx, and was really the animal known by this name to the greeks and romans. but naturalists now apply the name "oryx" to the gemsbok or cape oryx, (_oryx capensis_). the "abu-harb" is a native of kordofan and sennaar, and it is one of those that are found upon the sculptures of nubia and egypt. unlike the addax, it is gregarious in its habits, and lives in large herds. the fourth species of oryx is the "algazel," (_oryx algazella_). this is also a native of central africa, but less is known of it than of any of the other three; and there are naturalists who regard it as merely a variety of the "abu-harb." when hans had finished his learned discourse, it was full time for retiring to rest, so the whole party crept into their wagons, and went to sleep. chapter ten. the camel-birds. on leaving the "drift" where they had crossed the orange river, our hunters "treked" in a north-easterly direction. had they gone due north they would soon have reached the rim of the great kalihari desert--the saara of southern africa. of course they could not have penetrated this, and would necessarily have been compelled to head in a new direction, either to the east or west. but they had long since determined on an easterly course, as the region lying to the eastward of the desert had the reputation of being a grand country for the large animals--the buffalo, the elephant, and the camelopard; and the rivers in that part were filled with huge sea-cows (hippopotami) and gigantic crocodiles. that was the very country the young yagers wanted to be in. they were not travelling without a guide. congo was their guide. he knew every inch of the route. he had promised to bring them into a country abounding in elephants and giraffes; and no doubt was entertained that the kaffir would keep his promise. next day they were on the move at an early hour. they made a long day's march, and, halting a little before sunset, outspanned in a grove of mokhala-trees, standing upon the very edge of a bleak desert, that stretched before them as far as they could see,--and indeed much further. this desert had a very arid and parched appearance, the only vegetation upon it being solitary plants of the arborescent aloe, with its large coral-red flower-spike, palm-like zamias, some species of cactus-like euphorbias, and here and there small clumps of _acacia horrida_, or "wait-a-bit" thorns, as these bushes are jocosely termed, from the disposition of their curved spines to hook upon the clothes of any one passing them. both plants and bushes grew far apart, and wide tracts of the plain appeared without even any of these to vary its brown monotony. it was a sort of outlying spur of the kalihari desert, and they would have to cross it before they should reach the country promised by their guide. there would be _fifty_ miles without vley, spring, or stream--_fifty_ miles from water to water. they had outspanned by the last spring, which gurgled out among the roots of the mokhala-trees upon the very edge of the desert. there they intended remaining for a couple of days to dry the flesh of the gemsboks, and also to recruit their animals and prepare them for the long waterless journey of the desert,--a perilous passage. it was near sunset when they had finished "outspanning," having formed their camp in the centre of the mokhala grove, and not far from the spring. hans, in a contemplative mood, had wandered to the edge of the grove; and, seating himself under one of the trees, whose full umbrella-like top cast a fine shade, was gazing out upon the wide treeless waste. he had not been long in this situation, when his attention was attracted to three upright forms that appeared upon the plain at the distance of some hundred yards from the grove. they were bipeds, for he saw them from head to heel. not human bipeds, however, but birds. they were _ostriches_. the merest child could have told that much--anybody--for who does not recognise the great african ostrich at the first glance? the size and form of the _struthio camelus_ are too peculiar to admit of its being taken for any other bird. the american "rhea," or the australian "emeu," might pass for its half-grown young, but a full-sized african ostrich is not to be mistaken for any of its pigmy relatives, either in australia, new zealand, the indian archipelago, or america. it is the great bird of birds--the biggest that carries feathers. of course hans knew the three to be ostriches the moment his eye rested upon them--a cock and two hens. this was easily told, for there is as much difference between the male and female of these birds, as between the brilliant peacock and his dingy spouse. the greater size of the former; the deep black colour of his body contrasting strongly with the snow-white plumes of his wings and tail,--and in the desert these _are_ snow-white--distinguish him at once from his female companions. their colour is a nearly uniform greyish brown, and they want those splendid jet and snowy plumes that adorn the back of their lord and master, and which have been from all time so highly prized as ornaments by both savage and civilised people. a cock and two hens they were, that presented themselves before the eyes of the young naturalist. they were marching slowly along. they were not affrighted. they evidently had seen nothing of the camp. how could they, as it was behind the trees in the centre of the grove? they occasionally bent their long necks to one side or the other, and cropped a leaf, or picked up a seed, but then continued their course. from their following a straight line hans concluded they were not feeding in the regular way, but bent towards some point, perhaps to their night resting-place. when first observed, they were coming in a side direction, that is, transversely to the direction in which hans himself was facing. in a short time they had passed before him, and were now widening the distance, and getting farther off into the desert. hans at first thought of calling to the others, who were all busy about the wagons, and had not seen the ostriches. he was thinking also of some plan by which the birds might be captured or killed. after a moment's consideration, he gave up the idea of either one thing or the other. the sight of an ostrich was nothing new to any of the party. jan and klaas might have cared for it, but both were tired after their long hot ride, and had already fallen asleep on the grass. better not disturb them, thought hans. as to the killing or capturing the ostriches, after a moment's reflection, hans also gave up that design. the birds were already passing--to have stalked within shot upon the naked plain would have been impossible, for hans well knew the wary nature of the ostrich; and to have attempted a chase with their tired horses would have been equally idle. hans, therefore, held his peace, and sat still; following with his eyes the retreating forms of the three great camel-birds. their long strides soon carried them far off, but before they had receded half-a-mile, the eyes of the naturalist were removed from them, and turned on a different object. chapter eleven. the smallest of foxes. the object which now fixed the attention of the naturalist was a quadruped,--a very small one, not bigger than a medium-sized cat, but altogether different in form and proportions. unlike the cats, it had a long sharp snout, and a thick bushy tail. it stood higher upon its legs, too, than do animals of the cat kind, but the most remarkable _feature_ about it was its ears. these were remarkable for their length, which was out of all proportion to the size of the creature. its whole body was barely one foot long, and yet the ears stood full six inches above the crown of its head! they stood quite erect, broad, stiff, and pointed, and ending in an acute angle at the tips. its colour was a beautiful isabella above, and cream-white underneath. no; the creature was not like a cat, nor a dog neither, though it was more like the latter than the former. but there is an animal related to the canine family to which it bore a very strong resemblance, and that is the fox, for it _was_ a fox, the very smallest in the world, the "caama" of southern africa. and yet, correctly speaking, it was not a fox neither, but a _fennec_. what is a "fennec?" that is an interesting question, and one about which naturalists have bothered their brains a good deal. it is an animal of which there are several species existing throughout africa; and of which the celebrated traveller bruce,--who, everybody thought, _lied_ so largely, but about whom conceited ignorance has since changed its opinion,--first gave an account. it differs from the foxes in several respects, but the most remarkable difference is found in the form of the eye. in the true foxes the pupil is linear or elliptical, while that of the fennec is round, thus showing the difference of habit--for the foxes are in reality _nocturnal_ animals, while the fennecs are _diurnal_. some species of foxes, however, are twilight prowlers, and one or two of the fennecs are also crepuscular. it is, therefore, scarce possible to draw a line of demarcation between the two. the fennecs, however, have been formed into a separate genus, termed _megalotis_, from the extreme size of their ears. it is to be hoped that the question is thus settled that has so much bothered the closet-naturalists; who, taking their ideas from the anatomy of the fennec, have classed it according to their several fancies; one making it a dog, another a cat, a third a fox, a fourth a civet, a fifth a hyena, and a sixth placing it among the galagos! let us call it a "fennec," or diurnal fox, and say farther that although there are several species of _true foxes_ in africa, and several of _jackal-foxes_, there are also several of fennecs. three are well known. the fennec of bruce, (_megalotis zerda_), first described by that traveller as seen by him in abyssinia, but also indigenous to south africa; the "zabora," (_megalotis famelicus_), a native of nubia and kordofan, and supposed to be the animal represented on egyptian temples, which has been taken for the figure of the jackal; and the "caama fennec," (_megalotis caama_). a fourth species, "lalande's zerda," (_megalotis lalandii_), has been "hooked out" of this genus, and made to form one of itself, (_agriodus_), not because its habits in anywise differ from the _megalotides_, but because it chances to differ slightly from them in the form and arrangement of its "ivories." now of all these fennecs the one which was passing before the eyes of hans was the "caama," the smallest of the whole tribe either of fennecs or foxes. crouching just like a fox, now trotting nimbly a few paces, now halting and squatting close to the ground, as though fearful of being observed, the little creature passed on. what was it after? what prey was it in pursuit of? on watching it for a few moments, hans saw to his great surprise that it was after the ostriches! it was going the same way they had gone, its sharp snout set towards, and its eyes evidently bent upon, them. whenever they stopped it did the same, squatting down as it did so, as if to avoid their observation; and when they moved on, it also trotted forward, halting at intervals behind stones and bushes and earnestly regarding the birds in advance. beyond a doubt it was trailing them! but what could this little creature want with the ostriches? certainly not to attack them, though it was following after them just as a fox would a covey of partridges. it could not be that, however; as a kick from the mighty leg of one of these birds would have hoisted the fennec fifty yards over the plain, like a ball from a cricket-bat. no; it could not be following them with hostile intentions,--puny pigmy that it appeared beside the big camel-birds! for what, then, was it trailing them? of course it was not running on the scent, but the view. on their track it certainly was, and as certainly was it "dogging" them. for what purpose? this was just what the naturalist hans wished to know; and he remained closely observing the movements of this miniature "microscopic" fox. talking of a microscope reminds me that hans at that moment took out of his pocket a telescope,--a small one, which he habitually carried. this he did, because, in a few minutes, the ostriches were very distant over the plain, and their pursuer the fennec was no longer visible to the naked eye. with the glass, however, hans could still make it out, and could see that it was manoeuvring just as when it passed him. all at once the ostriches came to a stop; and, after an apparent consultation among themselves, the cock squatted down, and his long legs were no longer seen. he was flat down upon his breast, and even through his small pocket-glass hans could tell that his body looked more spread and bulky than before. was he covering eggs? was there a nest? the appearance of the ground about the sitting bird favoured that belief. there was a slight prominence around the body of the bird having the semblance of a bird's nest; but hans knew that the nest of the ostrich is of very simple construction,--a mere cavity scratched out in the sand, and scarce to be recognised from any great distance. several white objects lying around the spot led hans to the conclusion that there _was_ a nest. these objects did not seem larger than "jack-stones," but hans, calculating well the distance that separated them from his eye, believed them to be ostrich-eggs, and therefore as large as paving-stones. hans knew that around the nest of the ostrich scattered eggs are usually found--said by some to be there laid as a deposit for the food of the expected progeny during their early days of chickhood! the two hens, after moving about awhile also squatted down, but they appeared only to kneel with their great legs doubled under them; whereas the cock sat low and flat upon his breast. this only more convinced hans that there was a nest, and that the cock ostrich was taking his turn of duty, while the hens were simply gone to roost in the usual manner. that the cock covered the eggs was nothing surprising to the young naturalist, who knew that it is the habit of the male of these birds to do so, and that he usually takes his turn during the night, when it is colder, and his greater size and strength are required to keep the eggs warm, as well as to protect the nest from prowling beasts of prey. one or other of the hens would very likely relieve him about daybreak. of course both the hens were mothers in prospective of the future brood, as the cock ostrich is a terrible "mormon;" and frequently does the polygamous on a large scale, having sometimes as many as a dozen wives. our old fellow was rather a moderate mormon, as he appeared to be satisfied with two--though bigamy, no doubt, is quite as sinful as polygamy. hans concluded that there was a nest, and full of eggs in process of being hatched. it was no evidence against this, that the birds had been away from it together. the day had been a very warm one, and during the middle part of the day--particularly in hot weather--the ostrich wanders away from its eggs, leaving the sun to do its work for it. the hotter the country, the less does the ostrich require to "set;" and in parts of africa within the torrid zone where the heat reaches a very high degree, the ostrich has very little to do with the hatching of its eggs, but buries them in the burning sand, and makes the sun its "incubator!" but what had become of our fennec--poor little fellow? so asked hans of himself, as he swept the plain with his telescope. while watching the late movements of the birds, he had altogether forgotten the beast. after a time he was just able to make out its small whitish body stretched upon the ground, under the lee of a little bush, and apparently resolved upon passing the night there. had there been any hole near, it would have preferred lodging in that--for the fennec is an animal that makes its home in a "burrow." night had suddenly come on, and the darkness prevented hans from observing farther the movements of either beast or bird; so putting up his glass, he rejoined his companions in the camp. chapter twelve. the wingless birds. hans, on returning to the camp, gave an account of what he had seen. all were interested in the relation, but particularly the boys klaas and jan, who were not over satisfied that they had not themselves been witnesses of the affair. hans might very well have told them of it. they wouldn't have minded being waked up to see the ostriches, especially as they passed so near. it wasn't every day one could get such a view of these fine birds--they were so shy no one could get near them, and hans might very well have come into camp and told them, or called them, klaas and jan, to the spot. hans didn't care whether they ever saw any thing worth seeing--he didn't. so grumbled klaas and jan, because hans had not waked them out of their sweet _siesta_, to see three ostriches stalking over the plain, and not doing any thing in particular. but boys are boys, and so long as they _are_ boys, they will feel a wonderful interest in birds--especially when these birds stand nearly ten feet high, and weigh three hundred pounds, as ostriches do. had it been a buffalo, or a giraffe, or even an elephant, neither klaas nor jan would have so much cared. beasts are all very well in their way, and may interest full-grown hunters, like hendrik and groot willem, but for "boy hunters," with light fowling-pieces and number shot, birds are the game--though their number shot would hardly have tickled an ostrich. no matter for that. they wanted to see the great camel-bird. hans ought to have apprised them. it was "right mean" of him not to do so,-- right mean, said jan, and klaas backed the opinion. how long they might have grumbled, and given vent to their reproaches, can only be guessed at; but the conversation turning upon ostriches assumed a very pleasing character; and klaas and jan, becoming deeply interested in it, soon got over their little "miff" with hans-- especially as it was he who was now interesting them. upon the subject of ostriches. hans had read a good deal, and was well acquainted with the character and habits of these most interesting birds. swartboy stood next in his knowledge of the ostrich, for swartboy in early life had been a "dweller of the desert,"--the home of the bushman as well as the great camel-bird. swartboy was only too happy at the opportunity thus offered of showing off his knowledge, for the late wonderful performances of his kaffir rival had quite thrown him into the shade. so what with hans's book-knowledge and swartboy's practical experience, the young yagers became pretty well acquainted with the whole "history" of the bird. "the ostrich," said hans, "is an african bird, though also found in the adjacent countries of asia. several species of birds somewhat like it, belonging to south america, australia and the islands of the indian archipelago, have been called `ostriches' in the language of travellers. i shall have a word about these presently. "all over the african continent, as well as arabia, syria, and persia, dwells the ostrich, wherever there are desert plains--for this bird is peculiarly a denizen of the desert, and never makes its home in wooded, marshy, or even fertile districts. "it has been known from the earliest times, and must have been more numerous in the days of heliogabalus than now, since that tyrant had the brains of six hundred ostriches served up at a single feast!" "oh, the glutton!" exclaimed jan. "what a gourmand!" echoed klaas. "i should think after the feast he had more brains in his stomach than in his head," quietly remarked arend. "no doubt of it," added hendrik. hans continued:-- "the ancients knew the ostrich as the `camel-bird,' (_struthio camelus_). this name was given to it on account of its fancied resemblance to the camel; and in its hoof-like two-toed feet, its long naked thighs and neck, and the pad or cushion on its chest, corresponding to the callosity on the breast of the camel, it does bear a resemblance to this animal. like it, too, the ostrich is formed for the desert. aristotle and pliny described the ostrich as half bird, half quadruped." as soon as hans had given the more scientific part of the natural history of the ostrich, swartboy's knowledge of the habits of the bird was produced, and from both were collected the details that follow. ostriches are gregarious--flocks of _fifty_ may be seen upon the plains, peacefully associating with zebras, quaggas, wildebeests, blue wildebeests, and several other plain-frequenting antelopes. the males are polygamous, and usually have from two to six wives. these lay twelve to sixteen eggs each, in a nest which is only a hole scooped out in the sand about six feet in diameter. not more than half the eggs are deposited in the nest. the others lie scattered around, and are never hatched. swartboy alleged that these were intended to feed the young when they came out of the shell: but hans dissented from this opinion. the naturalist believed that those scattered about were superfluous eggs, which were not deposited in the nest because one bird could not cover all that the whole family of hens would lay; and that once the "setting" was complete, the superfluous eggs were dropped about anywhere. there is a good deal of probability in this conjecture of the young naturalist. it is certain that the scattered eggs are those last laid, and that the birds continue to drop them after the incubation has commenced, but whether they form the food of the young is a disputed point. one bird can cover from thirty to forty, placed as they usually are upon their ends, and swartboy said that he had often found this number in a nest, but more frequently thirty was the "setting." the male takes part in the incubation, sitting during the night; when his greater size and strength enable him the better to protect the eggs from cold. the "hens" relieve one another during the day, but when the sun is hot all leave the nest to itself, for hours at a time. hans stated, that in the more tropical regions the eggs are forsaken for long spells, and the hot sand and _sun_ do the work of the parent birds; and that on this account the period of incubation is not fixed, but ranges from thirty to forty days. the young when hatched are well developed, and in a day or two become as large as guinea-hens, leaving the nest and running about in charge of the parent birds. at this period the old ones are very careful of their offspring. when an enemy approaches, the hen that has charge of the flock will endeavour to attract the intruder upon herself, making a feint of being wounded, spreading and drooping her wings, and tumbling from side to side along the ground, while the cock draws off the chicks in an opposite direction! partridges, wild ducks, and many other birds, do the same. the eggs of the ostrich are of a dull white colour. they are not all of equal size, nor are the birds either. a medium-sized ostrich-egg is six inches long, and weighs about three pounds. it is excellent eating when broiled among hot cinders, and is a meal for a man,--some say two, some three, while others allege that it is not enough for one. but "a meal for a man" is a very uncertain standard, and depends a good deal on the capacity of the man's stomach and the state of his appetite. a better standard is found in the estimate that one ostrich-egg is equal in quantity to twenty-four of the common domestic fowl. the shells of the ostrich-eggs are very strong, and used by the bushmen and other natives of the desert as water-vessels--the only vessels that some of them have. a full-grown cock ostrich stands over nine feet in height, and weighs three hundred pounds. the legs of such a bird are immensely thick and muscular, and the thigh-joint equals in size the largest leg of mutton. the ostrich is thought to be the swiftest runner in creation, but there are doubts about this. certain it is that it cannot be overtaken by a horse in a fair tail-on-end chase; but the bird makes "doubles" in running, and by observing these, the mounted hunter sometimes gets near it by making a cut upon it, and delivers his fire as it passes. to run an ostrich down, however, is considered an impossibility, even by the arab on his fleet steed. its bottom is equal to its speed, as it can keep up the pace for hours together. the muscular strength of its great long legs is well adapted for running fast and far; and while on the run, its hoofs make a clatter like those of a trotting horse, while large stones are flung violently to the rear! when at full speed it spreads its white wing-plumes, raising them over its back, but this is only done to balance it, as it could not fly a single yard. its principal weapon of defence is the leg with its hoof-like foot. with this it can kick like a mule, and the blow will break a man's leg, or send the breath out of his body, as would the kick of a horse! but the principal security of the ostrich lies in its splendid power of vision, combined with its peculiar habitat. it is always on the naked plain, with nothing to interrupt the view, and its keen eye enables it to perceive an enemy long before the latter can get near enough to do it an injury. so sharp is its sight, it can see even farther than it can be seen, large as it is! a most difficult matter it is to get within shooting distance of these wary birds. sometimes a shot is obtained by lying in wait for them at vleys, or springs, where they come to drink. many people deny that they ever drink, as they are met with at great distances from water; but it should be remembered that what may appear a great distance to a tired traveller may be nothing to a fleet ostrich, who can fling the miles behind like a race-horse. others have observed the ostrich come to drink at a particular place once every day; and it is well known that in captivity they swallow large quantities of water. after drinking they do not run so well, and hunters take advantage of this and run them down after leaving the pool. there are hunters residing upon the desert karoos, who hunt the ostrich as a profession. the feathers are of considerable value, as well as the skin, which is tough and strong, and tans into a fine species of leather, out of which jackets and other garments are made. a skin without the feathers is worth about one pound sterling; and the long white plumes of the wings and tail,--of which there are five-and-forty (the finest are from the wings,)--are often sold for a shilling apiece on the spot. groot willem observed that the ostrich may be easily domesticated, and he had frequently seen tame ones about the kraals of the frontier boors. they are a useless pet, however; and, although quite harmless as far as man is concerned, they become troublesome in the farm-yard, where they trample the poultry to death, and sometimes gobble up chicks and young ducks, not from any carnivorous propensity, but on account of their extreme voracity: an old rag would be swallowed in the same way. the proper food of the ostrich is tops of shrubby plants, with grain and seeds, though they "bolt" many odd and indigestible substances. they are fond of salt, like most wild animals, and are often seen in large flocks around the salt-pans, or "salines," many of which exist upon the desert plains of africa. the flesh of the young ostrich is very palatable, but that of an old bird is rather tough and rank. their eggs, however, are esteemed a delicacy, though some think them heavy. the voice of the ostrich under ordinary circumstances is a deep sonorous chuckle, though at times it gives out a roar resembling that of the lion. when wounded or brought to bay, it hisses like an enraged gander. so much for the ostrich; and now hans proceeded, as he had promised, to say a word or two about its relatives. the "rhea" is its south american representative, but it has been lately discovered that there are two distinct species in south america, the "nandu," (_rhea americana_), and the "petise," or darwin's rhea, (_rhea darwinii_). they resemble each other in form, colour, and general habits, but differ in size and geographical range. the nandu is the larger, and dwells upon the wide plains of la plata, whereas the petise is confined to the southern part of patagonia. the nandu resembles the african bird in form, and its dingy brown colour is not far from that of the hen ostrich. its size, however, is much less, being only five feet in height. the plumes of its wings are less beautiful and valuable than those of its african cousin, though they are also a marketable article, being used for fly-brushes and other household implements. the habits of the rhea show a great similarity to those of the _struthio_, and it is quite a folly to make separate genera of them. the rhea is gregarious, polygamous, scoops a slovenly nest in the ground, hatches from twenty to thirty eggs, scatters many others around, runs swiftly when pursued, hisses and kicks violently when assailed, and is shy and wary. all these are habits of the ostrich. the rhea, however, has some peculiarities. it feeds upon small fish cast up on the mud banks of rivers, and on roots and grass. it also takes freely to the water, and can cross rapid streams by swimming. the gauchos hunt it with both _lazo_ and _bolas_. darwin's rhea is less in size, but very similar in colour, form, and habits. it also swims well, and frequents plains near the coast. it is beyond doubt a very closely allied species to _rhea americana_, but a bird of a colder habitat. the nandu is not found in north america, nor any species of bird allied to the ostrich. in this respect nature has neglected the vast desert plains of prairie-land. even in south america the range of the rhea is limited, and does not extend to the equator, though it comes much farther within the tropics than is generally imagined. it has lately been seen on the savannahs of the madeira river, far to the north of the la plata plains. another cousin of the ostrich is the "emeu," (_dromanis novae hollandiae_). i give the clumsy title of the closet-naturalists, though there is no reason in the world why this bird should be separated from the genus of either ostrich or rhea, except to confuse the student of natural history. in form and habits it resembles both, and in colour it is quite like the rhea. it is, however, a much taller bird--standing seven feet--and a full-grown male approaches the standard of a hen ostrich. it has all the characteristics of the ostrich--is gregarious, polygamous, nestles on the ground, shy, wary, runs swiftly, swims well, kicks so as to kill a dog or break the leg of a man, utters an odd drumming note, and lays eggs nearly as large as those of the ostrich, but of deep green colour. the eggs of the rhea are of a bluish cast. it is supposed that, like the rhea, there are two species of emeu-- another and smaller one having been reported as existing in the northern parts of the great island of australia. in the peninsula of malacca and the islands of the asiatic archipelago, the ostrich has a representative that differs from it more than either rhea or emeu. this is the cassowary, (_cassuarius cassoar_). its body is covered with a thick coat of feathers of a deep black colour, and so disposed as to present a hairy appearance, while its head and neck are naked, the skin of these parts being of the loveliest blue-purple and scarlet blended together. the cassowary differs from the ostriches in many respects. it is not a bird of the desert, but dwells in fertile districts and feeds upon soft succulent herbage. it resembles the ostriches, however, in most of its habits. like them it defends itself by kicking, deposits its eggs on the ground, and leaves them to be hatched by the sun; is bold when assailed, is fleet and strong, and altogether may be regarded as one of the most interesting of the tribe, or of birds in general. hans mentioned the "apteryx," or kiwi-kiwi, only to say that there were two species of it very much alike, both natives of new zealand, both nocturnal and burrowing in their habits; and hans added that he did not regard them as belonging to the ostrich family at all, any more than the "auks" or "penguins." thus ended the talk about the wingless birds. chapter thirteen. the fennec and the ostrich-eggs. before retiring to rest, the young yagers had resolved upon a pleasant performance for the morrow--that was, a "surround" of the ostriches. they had planned it that hendrik and groot willem should go first, and ride a large circuit around, so as to get far beyond the nest. arend and hans would start shortly after taking different sides, while klaas and jan should cover the direction towards the camp. in this way the six, widely separated from each other, would enclose the birds in a circle; and when the latter became alarmed and started to run, they were to be "headed" by whoever was nearest, and turned back to the opposite side. this is the mode practised by the south african hunters, and is the only way by which the ostrich can be tired out and run down, for on such occasions, if the "surround" be well managed, the bird becomes confused, runs from one side to the other, and at length suffers itself to be captured or shot. it is a dangerous matter, however, to approach too near the game even when "blown" or wounded. a wounded ostrich has been known to send the hunter sprawling, and break a leg or an arm, or a pair of ribs, by one fling of its muscular limb! hans, in his usual prudent way, had cautioned his companions to beware of this danger. they all went to rest with feelings of pleasant anticipation for the morrow. they had high hopes they would either kill or capture the old cock, and pluck his snow-white plumes to add to their "trophies." the only drawback upon their plans appeared to be their number. they had doubts whether six could surround the ostriches, so as to head and turn them--especially as of the six two were little boys mounted on small ponies, for the chargers ridden by klaas and jan were of this character. it was resolved, however, that congo and swartboy should help to form the circle. they had no horses, but both were active afoot, and either could run quite as fast as the ponies. the one armed with his assegais, and the other with his tiny bow and poisoned arrows, they would be well worth a place in the ring; and the ostriches would thus have eight, instead of six, points in the compass closed up against them. add to this, that there were the six buck-dogs to assist them, and it will be acknowledged that their prospect of capturing the ostriches was not so bad. sad to say, their hopes of a brilliant day's sport ended in complete disappointment. all their fine plans were frustrated by a singular occurrence. a hyena during the night had stolen into camp, and had eaten up the girth and part of the flaps of hendriks saddle; and before the damage could be repaired the ostriches had gone off from the nest. they were still around it when the hunters arose, but the delay in mending the saddle was fatal to the plan of a "surround." the morning was a hot sultry one, and the birds leaving their business to the sun, went early away. just as the boys were mounting, they saw them move off in long strides towards the opposite side of the plain. they were soon out of sight of the naked eye; but hans followed them with his glass, until that also failed to keep them in view. it was a great disappointment to everybody, just as it would be to a field of fox-hunters, who, after getting into the saddle, had found themselves driven back to their stables by frost and snow. hendrik was particularly out of temper, on account of the ill luck that had befallen his saddle; and if a hyena had shown itself at that moment, it would have stood a fair chance of getting a bullet into its body. all the others, though in a less degree, shared hendrik's uncomfortable reflections. all six sat chafing in their saddles, not knowing what to do. "let us ride out to the nest," proposed arend. "at all events, the eggs have not `stole away.' we'll get them, and, by the way, i shouldn't object to an omelette for breakfast," (they had not yet breakfasted:) "i'm tired enough of venison and dry biltong. what say you?" "by all means," rejoined groot willem; "let us bring in the eggs, and breakfast on them--that is, if they're not too far gone. i should like an egg for breakfast myself. come on then!" "stop!" cried hans; "stop a moment, yagers! perhaps we'll not be disappointed--we may have a chase yet." hans had the glass to his eye as he spoke. "what!" inquired several; "are they coming back?" hans made no reply for a moment. he could not be looking after the ostriches. his telescope was pointed in the direction of the nest. the birds were not there! "it is it!--it is! the very creature itself!" exclaimed hans, in a half-soliloquy. "what is it? what creature?" demanded the boys. "the fox!" replied hans. "what fox!" "why, the fennec--the same i saw last night--yonder it is, though you can't see it with the naked eye. i can barely make it out with the glass. it is up close by the nest of the ostriches, and appears busy about something." "the eggs, i warrant," suggested groot willem. "a fox-chase! a fox-chase!" exclaimed hendrik, partially recovering temper. "a fox-chase!" echoed klaas and jan. "a fox-chase be it then," assented hans; and all six set their horses in motion, whistling to the buck-dogs to follow. they headed directly for the ostriches' nest. they were not going to make a circuit for such an insignificant creature as the little fennec. they knew that it could only escape them by getting to a hole, as they had dogs that could trail and run it down go where it would. it was probable that its burrow was not very near. it had evidently strayed away from home, and "dogged" the ostriches to their nest, so as to get at their eggs. swartboy alleged that such was its habit--that it was fonder of eggs than any other food--and that the eggs of the great bird were its particular favourites. that it was constantly roving about in search of ostrich-nests; and as these are very difficult, even for a fox to find, the fennec, when it suspects that the ostriches are laying, will follow them for miles to discover the nest--just as hans had seen this one do. swartboy had given all this information on the preceding night, which, of course, explained the mystery of such a small creature running upon the trail of the great ostriches. it was not _them_, but _their eggs_, it wanted. now there was still a mystery swartboy had not explained; and that was, how this animal, when it found the eggs, was able to _get at their contents_? the shell of the ostrich-egg is thick and strong. it requires a considerable blow with some hard weapon to break it, and how a puny creature, like the little fennec, could effect a breach was a mystery to all, but especially to the naturalist hans. the fennec was no stranger to him. he had seen many of them in captivity. he knew something of their anatomy. he knew that their skulls were destitute of the ridge in which the temporal muscles are inserted, and that consequently they were weak-jawed animals--much more so than the common fox. it was not possible for them to have broken the shell of an ostrich-egg with their jaws. he knew that it was equally impossible for them to effect that purpose with the claws of their feet--the soles of which are covered with soft wool, as in the arctic fox--a peculiarity considering that the fennec is an inhabitant of the hottest climes, and one quite unexplained by naturalists! from the strength and structure of the animal, hans believed it could no more have got at the contents of an ostrich-egg than it could have eaten its way into the heart of a bomb-shell. swartboy was here at fault. he only knew that it _did_ get at the contents, white and yolk; but _how_ he had never observed. he could not tell. he could not solve the mystery. they had not long to wait in doubt about this matter. in less than ten minutes after, the fennec himself presented the solution before the astonished eyes of the young yagers. when they had ridden up within some three hundred yards of the nest the little animal came under the view of all, and they pulled up to watch his manoeuvres. he was so busy about his own affairs, that he had not perceived their approach. the ground was covered with soft sand, so that the hoofs made no noise, and with all his keen sense of hearing-- for he possesses that in proportion to his large ears--he had not caught a sound. he was hard at work, and never looked towards them. in fact, he was seen to raise his head at intervals, and look towards the point whither the ostriches had gone, and all his gazing was in that direction. the party had, therefore, a good view of the animal without being observed by him; and they watched his manoeuvres with interest. swartboy and the kaffir held the dogs in their leashes, and all remained silent as statues. now what was the little fennec doing? at first the spectators were puzzled to make out, but presently all was explained. when they first saw him he was at a distance of several yards from the nest, and going farther from it, on the opposite side to that where the hunters had halted. his tail was towards them, and the fore-part of his body appeared to be raised as if his paws rested upon something. this something was seen to be an ostrich's egg. he was pushing it before him along the ground, using his feet alternately, and forcing the _egg_ to turn. this action was similar to that of some unfortunate fellow on the tread-mill, except that it was voluntary on the part of the fennec. now why was he rolling the _egg_? did he mean to transport it in that way to his burrow? it would have been an arduous task, as it was not likely his subterranean dwelling was anywhere in that neighbourhood. but he had no such design. his intention was to eat his breakfast on that very spot, or at all events very near it; and the spectators soon saw where his table was to be spread, for some of them now remembered an odd story they had heard of the caama, and already suspected his design. about three or four yards from his snout lay a stone. it was a boulder of small dimensions, some twelve inches in height, but quite large enough for the fennec's purpose. it was evident that he had a purpose with this stone, for he was rolling the egg directly towards it. those who had guessed his design were not disappointed. when his snout was within about three feet of the stone, the fennec made a sudden rush forward, carrying the egg along by a rapid motion of his feet, until the hard shell came in contact with the harder rock. a "crash" reached the ears of the hunters, and, looking attentively, they saw that the egg was broken into "smithereens!" the breakfast of the fennec was now before him, and he at once set about eating it, but the hunters were hungry too, their patience could hold out no longer, and spurring their horses and letting slip the dogs, they galloped forward. it was a short run for a fox to give. the creature had hardly made good a couple of hundred yards, before the buck-dogs threw him; and it was just as much as swartboy could do, aided by his jambok of hippopotamus-hide, to save his beautiful skin from their jaws. the eggs were soon collected. those in the nest had "gone too far," as groot willem had feared: some contained chicks, and others were addled. but of the ones scattered about several turned out quite fresh, so that the hunters had omelette for breakfast, as they had wished. swartboy showed them how to cook the eggs to perfection. this mode was to set one end in the ashes, break a hole in the other, and then with a little stick keep stirring the contents until they were sufficiently broiled. that is an omelette of ostrich-eggs. chapter fourteen. the blauw-boks. after all, the young yagers were not to be disappointed in a chase. if the fox of south africa gives but poor sport, there are plenty of other animals, neither so weak-limbed nor short-winded; and one of this kind it was their fortune to fall in with on that same day, and almost within the hour. on the other side of the mokhala grove from that on which the ostriches had been observed, lay a wide open plain. it was not a desert, although it approached so near to one,--separated from it only by a belt of timber. it was a prairie or natural meadow, the grass--perhaps from contrast with the broad brown expanse on the other side--having an extremely fresh green look. it was a large plain, though not limitless to the view. in the distance could be seen a wood of the giraffe-acacia, or "cameel-doorns," bounding the horizon; and several clumps of these trees, with their umbrella-like heads and feathery fronds of pale green, stood isolated upon the plain, giving the scene altogether an interesting aspect. a very park appeared this plain, with wide open pastures between its groves and coppices, many of which were of such regular forms that one would have fancied they had been planted to adorn it. so lordly a park, such rich pastures, could not be untenanted; nor were they. there was no mansion, no house, not a trace of a human being to be seen, but for all that the plain had its denizens. many forms could be distinguished upon or around it, both of winged and wingless creatures. birds and quadrupeds of rare and beautiful kinds made this fair scene their home. over its greensward stalks the "secretary," the true serpent-eater, hunting among the grass for his glittering prey. even without using his wings, he need not fear any of the crouching _carnivora_, as his long legs suffice to carry him far beyond reach of either hyena, jackal, wild dog, guepard, or leopard. swift is he, almost as the great ostrich itself,--so swift as to have earned from the arabs the singular _sobriquet_ of the "devil's horse." not far off another tall bird stands erect upon the plain, but of very different character and habits. this is the "pauw" or "wild peacock,"-- a peacock only in the phraseology of the boors, for the bird is a bustard, and the largest of his tribe--the _otis kori_. running from copse to copse, or feeding over the plain, may be seen flocks of the pearly guinea-fowl, (_numida meleagris_), whose constant chattering grates harshly on the ear, resembling the metallic clanking of machinery, or the sharpening of a hundred saws. from tree to tree flutter gaudy parrots, green pigeons, and soft cooing doves, and over flowery shrubs flit numerous species of tiny "honey-suckers,"--the african representatives of the humming-birds. some trees carry the pensile nests of the weaver-bird, (_ploceus_), hanging from their branches like large fruits, while many of the cameel-doorns are loaded with the vast thatch-like republican dwellings of the sociable grosbeak, (_loxia socia_). but birds are not the only tenants of this fair scene. quadrupeds, as bright and beautiful as they, haunt its verdant glades, or repose under the grateful shadow of its acacia-groves. in a few hours' ride one might see graceful antelopes of many species. the nimble springbok--the gazelle of south africa--might be observed trooping over the sward, or bounding high in air either in sport or alarm--the orange "hartebeest," and the purple "sassybe," might be seen--the shaggy-maned eccentric gnoo, scouring the plain in circles-- droves of quaggas, or of the still more beautiful "zebra of the plains," (_equus burchellii_), might be seen too, crouching around the copses, the leopard, fair but fearful to look upon; and still more fearful to behold the tawny tyrant of the scene--the lion. all these creatures, and many more of equal interest, might come under the eye of the traveller or hunter during a single day's ride through that wild domain. thus full of life, what a contrast did this beautiful meadow present to the monotonous waste of wilderness, that stretched away from the opposite side of the grove to the far horizon! baulked in their projected "surround" of the ostriches--disappointed by the "poor sport" which the fox had afforded, the hunter-boys were determined not to be "choused" out of a chase. some sort of one they would have, if it were only a brush after springboks, for these, they knew, they could find at any time. they were aware of the existence of the fine plain--the edge of which came up within a few hundred yards of their camp. they had pastured their cattle there on the evening before; and conjectured that it must be the haunt of many kinds of game. for this reason they now resolved upon making an excursion to that quarter, to hunt whatever might turn up. they came to this determination, only after their return from the ostriches' nest; but as they had made up their minds to it before eating breakfast, they did not off-saddle, but kept their horses ready for being mounted. as soon as the meal was over, they took once more to their saddles and rode off, the buck-dogs following at the heels of their horses. congo and swartboy stayed by the camp. they had not far to go, before coming in view of their game; and rare game that was. they were scarce yet a hundred paces from the camp, and just about to ride out from the timber, when hendrik, in the advance, suddenly reined up his horse, making a sign for the others to do the same. all pulled up in a breath, and sat in their saddles, gazing out through the leaves. though still within the shadow of the grove, all had a good view of the open plain; and before them was a sight that would have warmed the hearts of older hunters than they. out upon the plain, and directly in front of them, was a herd of noble antelopes. they were neither gnoos, nor springboks, nor hartebeests, nor any of the common kinds that the party had already met with, and had hunted to their satisfaction. indeed, they were of a species that none of the six had _ever seen_ before, and they only knew them to be antelopes from the make of their bodies, the shape of their horns, and other points characteristic of these animals. they were antelopes of large size, standing nearly four feet high, having sabre-shaped horns curving gently backward and ringed to within six inches of their tips. their general colour was ashy grey, tinged with raven-blue--the blue tint being caused by the deep black colour of the skin shining through the hair. although none of the party had ever seen such antelopes before, hans, and also the hunters hendrik and groot willem, guessed what kind they were. they were of a kind that once ranged the graaf reinet, and even as far south as the cape itself, though there they were never common. that was long before any of the young yagers had ever fired a gun or mounted a horse, but as these remembered having heard their fathers talking of this animal--of its blue colour, of its long curving horns, of its fine outline of form, as well as bold fierce character--they recognised those before them by the descriptions they had heard. they could be no other than _blue-bucks_, or _blauw-boks_ in the language of the boors. hans, after eyeing them a moment, gave this as his opinion. the species was the blauw-bok, the _aigocerus leucophea_ of modern systematists. now of the group of antelopes to which the general name _aigocerus_ has been given there are five species--all large noble animals, and all inhabitants of south africa, and particularly the countries adjacent to the great orange river. first, there is the "waterbuck," (_aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_), which stands nearly four feet in height, is of bluish grey colour, frequents the banks of rivers, takes the water freely--whence its trivial name-- swims well, is bold, fierce, strong, and dangerous, when bayed or wounded. secondly, there is the "takhaitze," (_aigocerus barbatus_), nearly as large as the waterbuck, but distinguished by a long beard and mane. the character of the waterbuck for fierceness and daring also belongs to the takhaitze, and both are swift runners. the latter, however, is less attached to the water, and frequents a hilly region, browsing goat-like upon the leaves of the acacia. the third of this genus is the "roan antelope," (_aigocerus equinus_), a strong fierce animal, with horns curving backwards as in the blue-buck, but thicker, and more rapid in the curve. it is an antelope not of the plains, but a dweller in the hilly region. the "sable antelope" (_aigocerus niger_) is by far the most beautiful animal of the group. it is not many years since this antelope was made known to science, having been discovered in south africa by a keen british sportsman. it is one of the largest of the race, standing four feet six inches in height, and carrying a pair of scimitar-shaped horns over three feet in length. its colour is a deep glossy black or sable-- whence its specific appellation--though it is white underneath with white markings about the head and neck. none of the antelopes of this group are of common occurrence even in their native haunts. none of the species can be called gregarious--that is, they do not appear in large herds, like the springboks, gnoos, hartebeests, or bonteboks--though small troops of less than a dozen--families, in fact--may be seen together. oftener they are met with in pairs, or single individuals, and they are all scarce in the regions they inhabit when compared with the vast herds of the more social kinds. the blue-buck is now one of the very rarest of the group, so much so that some naturalists believe it to be extinct. that is not likely. africa is a large country. now all this information was furnished by philosopher hans. he did not offer it just then--that is when they came in sight of the herd of blue-bucks; though he would, likely enough, had the others been inclined to listen to him. but they were not. the hunters hendrik and groot willem were gazing with eyes wide open, admiring the beautiful proportions of the blauw-boks, which promised them a glorious run. chapter fifteen. a brush after the blue-bucks. as already stated, there were seven antelopes in the herd. one, an old buck, larger than any of the rest, and having horns over three feet long, was in the advance acting as leader. when first observed, they were approaching the grove of mokhalas--perhaps to reach the water by the spring. so thought the yagers, and held a hurried consultation about it, as they watched the advance of the animals. hurried it was, and abruptly terminated, for before they could come to any definite plan of action, one of the buck-dogs, a young and half-trained animal, sprang forward out of cover, and opened his bay right in the faces of the antelopes. the whole seven wheeled round in their tracks, and obedient to a snorting signal of the leader, started back in the direction they had come, going at top speed. of course all idea of stratagem was foiled by the unexpected behaviour of the dog. a straight tail-on-end chase was the only course left the hunters to follow; and, plying the spur, all the six shot out of the timber, and rode "view halloo" over the open plain. a splendid chase it was for several minutes--the seven blue-bucks in advance, the dogs in the middle, and the "field" following in the rear. a splendid chase, indeed! but only for a few minutes did dogs, hunters, and game, maintain these relative positions. the horsemen spread first. the ponies of klaas and jan fell to the rear, and were soon distanced. then lagged the philosopher hans, whose cob, though steady under fire, and a good roadster, was no hunter; and, next, the handsome arend,--who might have taken a better place, for his steed was a good one. but arend cared but little for hunting, and less for hard riding under a hot sun; and having permitted himself to get so far behind that the view of the chase was no longer interesting, he reined up under the shade of a cameel-doorn, and commenced fanning himself with the gauntlet of his military glove! there were two, however, who still rode to the dogs with the keen ardour of sportsmen--hendrik and groot willem; and from a feeling of rivalry, as already hinted at, each was determined to be in at the death. both were well mounted, though very dissimilarly. the horse that hendrik rode was a beautiful coal-black, of medium size, with a dash of the arab in him--just enough to make of him what is termed a "hunter,"-- a breed the finest in the world, and for all purposes, except _race-course gambling_, finer even than the arabian itself. groot willem's horse differed widely from this kind; and the same description that has been given of groot willem, or one very similar, would answer for his steed. in size, he bore the same proportion to hendrik's hunter that his rider bore to hendrik--that is, he was a full half bigger; but his own members were out of all proportion with each other. his body was flat and gaunt, and his limbs long and bony. his neck also was of an immense length, without the slightest semblance of a curve; and his head was angular and "bumpy," like that of a giraffe. he had other points of similarity to this singular quadruped, in his rough awkward gait, and long-stumped thin-haired tail; and the young yagers, in view of these resemblances, had jocosely christened him "groot-kameel," (great camel). he was about as ugly a horse as could have been found in all the land of the boors; and yet his owner, groot willem, would not have exchanged him for the handsomest horse in africa. notwithstanding his ugliness, he was a good horse. in jockey phrase, "a bad 'un to look at, a good 'un to go." groot willem was no man for appearances. he liked performance better than promise; and the "great camel" was the type of that idea--he promised nothing, but performed amazingly. many a quagga, and wildebeest and sassybe, had he ridden down; many a stanch buck-dog had he tired out and passed in the chase with the heavy weight of groot willem on his back. no wonder the latter felt a high regard for his well-trained hunting horse. hendrik had an equal affection for his beautiful black; and as no opportunity had yet offered of a fair trial between the two steeds, a good deal of talk had passed about their respective merits as regarded speed and "bottom." on the question of beauty nothing could be said. hendrik had the advantage there; and even groot willem acknowledged it, at the same time that he sneered at _that_ being considered a "merit" in a horse. the chase of the blauw-boks seemed to offer the chance of a fair trial. the animals had taken across the open plain, which would lead the hunters several miles at least, as the game was not one to be run down in a hurry. in a ride like that before them, it would be seen which backed the best steed. both riders were determined to make the most of their horses. both were wary hunters, and, instead of dashing forward at break-neck speed, it could be seen that each was "going cunning," and saving their steeds for the final burst. hendrik felt that in speed for a mile or two he could have headed the "camel" easily enough. but the bucks had got a good start, and it was not likely he could overtake them within that distance. he held up, therefore, riding gently, lest in the end the great horse of his rival might come out too strong for him. for some distance the two galloped "cheek by jowl," the dogs far in the advance, and the bucks still running together before them. the latter did not seek to escape into the bushes, though they passed near several large copses. they kept in the open plain, in a course nearly direct. stag-like they were running for some water--as antelopes of the _aigocerine_ group habitually do. but the dogs did not husband their speed, some of them were young and foolish, although very swift; and before the bucks had passed over a mile of ground, two or three of their canine pursuers pushed them so closely that the herd broke, and the antelopes, in their terror, forsook each other, and ran wildly in various directions. the character of the hunt was now quite altered. the pack split up just as the game had done, each dog following the antelope that seemed nearest him, and in a few moments the chase was scattered all over the plain. the two hunters had now a choice, whether each should pursue a separate game, or both take after the same. but neither thought for a moment of separating from the other, except by _heading_ him. the spirit of rivalry, though silent, was strongly felt by both. even the very horses seemed to be actuated by a similar feeling, eyeing each other askance, as they galloped side by side! the antelope that both were determined to follow was easily selected from the rest. the old buck that hitherto led the herd had now gone off by himself, followed by a pair of the stanchest dogs. _his_ horns were the meteors that gleamed in the _eyes_ of our hunters, and beckoned them on. without exchanging a word with each other, both rode after the buck. chapter sixteen. groot willem gets a tumble. the chase was now one of exceeding interest, and had become a simple trial of speed between horses, dogs, and antelope. the buck had kept on in a direct line, when the others broke away from him. he had been foremost at the time, and had no need to turn out of his course. besides he knew where he was running to. terror had driven the others out of their senses, and they had fled without design, while the old buck, not losing his "presence of mind," kept on for the water. a dark belt seen ahead was a forest fringing some stream or river. that was the point he was making for, but a wide plain must be crossed before he could wet his hoof in any water. over this plain now swept the chase. oddly enough, the two dogs that had chosen the buck for their game were rival dogs--that is, each hunter was owner of one of them, and regarded him as a favourite; and all three kinds, dogs, horses, and riders, seemed to be on their mettle, and were doing their very best. do not fancy there was any ill-feeling between groot willem and hendrik. nothing of the sort. each loved his horse and his dog, and wished them to excel--each had his hunter reputation at stake in the result--and each had resolved upon carrying the head and horns of that blue-buck in triumph to the camp! notwithstanding all this, there was no "bad blood" between the boys. nothing of the sort. beautifully the buck ran. lightly he leaped over the turf, his limbs at each spring stretching to an almost horizontal line, with head high in air and horns curving backward to his flanks. well and beautifully he ran! sometimes he gained on his pursuers, as the nature of the ground favoured his hoofs; but again the strong buck-dogs howled upon his heels, and the hunters galloped but a hundred yards behind him. the blue of his back soon changed to a deeper tint, as the sweat poured through his sable skin, and the froth in large flakes clouted his neck and shoulders. his red tongue hung dripping from his jaws, and the hunters might have heard his hard breathing but for the panting of their own steeds. five miles did they go in that wild gallop--five miles without drawing rein or changing pace! the woods were near--perhaps the water! the buck would gain them if not hard pressed--there might be a deep reach of some large river--the blauw-bok can swim like a duck--he would plunge in--they could not follow--they would lose him! with such fears the hunters spurred their horses for a final burst. their speed had proved nearly equal. now was the time to try their "bottom." both shot forward at the fresh touch of the steel; but at the second or third spring the ground under the "great camel" gave way, and the huge horse with his heavy rider rolled headlong to the earth! he had broken through the burrow of the _aard-wolf_! hendrik, who had shot a little ahead, heard the confused noise behind, and, looking over his shoulder, saw groot willem and the "camel" struggling together over the turf. a more attractive object, however, was in front of him--the panting buck--and without making halt, or staying to inquire whether his fellow-hunter was hurt--a pardonable neglect among sportsmen--he pressed his wearied horse still forward and onward. in five minutes after, the buck stood to bay by the edge of the timber, and the dogs rushed up and sprang at him. it was a fatal spring for one of them--the favourite of groot willem. the luck was against him, as it had gone against his master. a single "gowl" came from his throat, as he was flung back off the sharp horns of the antelope. it was the last note he ever uttered, for in a moment more he had kicked his last kick, and lay lifeless upon the plain! and very likely hendrik's favourite would have shared the same fate; but his master at this moment riding near, caused the blue-buck a fresh alarm, and he broke bay, and dashed into the bushes followed by the dog. hendrik now lost sight of the chase, though he could hear the breaking branches, as the strong antelope made his way through the thicket, and the baying of the dog still told him the direction in which the game was going. putting his horse to a more moderate pace, he followed through the _bosch_, as well as he could. he expected every moment to hear the hound bark, the signal that the buck had again stood to bay, but he was doomed to disappointment. no such sound reached his ears. he began to think that the buck was lost, and that, after all the chances in his favour, he would return to camp with no better story to tell than his rival. he was becoming exceedingly chagrined with the turn things had taken, when, to his further chagrin, he heard a loud plunge, as of some heavy object falling into deep water. he knew it was the buck. another plunge!--that was the dog. there was a river ahead--the antelope had taken to it, and would now escape to a certainty. the water seemed near--there was an open tract that led in that direction. perhaps he might be in time. perhaps he might get to the bank before the buck could reach the opposite shore. a bullet from his rifle might yet secure the game. without hesitating a moment he again spurred his horse, and galloped down the hill in the direction of the water. there _was_ a river, and in a few seconds' time hendrik was on its bank. he had arrived at a place where the water was deep and the current still, but the rippling wave on the surface guided him. two objects were seen above the surface moving rapidly across. they were the horns of the buck and the head of the buck-dog! hendrik had no time to alight. before he could steady his horse, the blauw-bok had got out of the water, and was climbing up the opposite bank. there was just time for a hurried shot. the broad back of the antelope offered a fair mark, and the next moment a tuft of the hair near the spine, was seen to fly up like a spark, while a red stream spouted from the spot. the crack of a rifle explained this phenomenon; and before its echoes had died away, the antelope came tumbling down the slope, and lay motionless by the edge of the water. the horns were hendrik's! chapter seventeen. a tough struggle. the horns were hendrik's! so thought hendrik, when, at the crack of his rifle, he saw the buck roll backward down the bank into the very jaws of the buck-dog. he was mistaken, however--as he had reason to think the moment after-- when the antelope, instead of lying still where it had fallen, rose to its feet again, beat off the dog with its horns, and springing over him, once more plunged into the river! the dog bounded after, and, swimming faster than the antelope, overtook it near the middle of the stream, seizing it by the quarters as he got within reach. the strong buck soon shook him off, and turning short upon his persecutor, struck at him in the water. two or three times the hound was under its horns, but the water yielding saved hendrik's favourite from destruction, although more than once he was forced under the surface. this struggle was kept up for some moments. the river ran red, blood pouring from the wound of the bullet, as well as from the flanks of the antelope, lacerated by the tusks of his canine assailant. the blood of the hound also helped to colour the current--for the sharp horns of the buck had been used to some purpose, and several gashes appeared in the hide of the dog, from which the crimson flood streamed copiously. after delivering his fire, hendrik had alighted, not with the intention of reloading, but merely to secure his prize, which, as he supposed, had been finished by the shot. he was about tying his bridle to a branch; but, before he had succeeded in making a knot, the renewed struggle on the opposite bank, followed by the plunge, caused him suddenly to drop the reins and again lay hold of his rifle. he loaded with all haste, and ran forward to the bank. there was a fringing of willow-bushes along the edge of the river. in the saddle hendrik had been able to look over them, and at that elevation commanded a view of the water. afoot he could not see it, except obscurely through the tops of the willows. he could only see that the water was waving with eddies and covered with frothy bubbles. he could hear that a struggle was going on between buck and buck-dog, but the combatants had got close in to the willows, and the leaves prevented hendrik from seeing either of them. at one place there was a break in the willows, where the bank sloped downward to the water's edge. it was a mere pathway, made by wild animals in going to drink. on both sides of it the bushes grew thick, forming a narrow lane or alley. hendrik's eye fell upon this path, and the next moment he was hastening down it. the antelope from the river had also noted the path. it was the place easiest of access from the water, as there the bank was more shelving than at any other point; and just at the time the hunter rushed into it from the woods, the buck was entering its opposite end from the water! both were going at full speed, and in five seconds' time they met face to face in the narrow pathway! there was no chance for either to make way for the other. the close thicket on each side prevented that. there was no chance for either to retreat; the impetuosity with which they were running rendered it impossible for either to give back or even halt. they must meet with a fearful collision! such a meeting would be entirely to the advantage of the buck, and, perhaps, to the total destruction of the hunter. hendrik saw this, and would have aimed at the buck and fired had time been allowed him. but so sudden and unexpected was the encounter that he had not even time to get his rifle to the level, before the animal was too near to admit of such delay. he fired wildly without taking aim. the bullet scored the back of the antelope, only to add to its fury; and with head lowered and scimitars set, it rushed onward upon the hunter. it was a moment of peril for hendrik. another moment, and he would have been impaled upon the sharp horns; but at that instant, as if guided by an impulse of instinct, he dropped his rifle, and ran forward towards the buck, as if to fling himself upon its horns! that was far from being his intention, however. when within about three feet of these horns, he gave a sudden bound and rose like a springbok into the air! that spring saved him. before he came down again the horns had passed under him, and he fell heavily across the back of the buck. the hind-quarters of the antelope sank under his weight, and hendrik slipped off; but before he could recover his feet, the furious animal had turned, and was again springing upon him where he lay. it would have been all up with hendrik, had he been left to himself at that moment. but succour was nigh. the buck-dog had reached the spot; and just as the antelope was making his rush, the dog sprang forward, and, seizing it by the throat, hung fast. hendrik received the blow, but the weight of the dog hanging to the throat of the antelope prevented the latter from giving it with effect, and the hunter was but slightly injured. in an instant the buck kicked the dog off with its hoofs, and flung him to the ground. in another instant it would have finished him with its horns; but hendrik, from the sharp blow he had received, was now as angry as the antelope itself, and was not going to see his favourite hound killed before his eyes without making an effort to save him. warmed to the conflict, he thought no longer of retreating; and, drawing his hunting-knife, he sprang forward upon the antelope, that, engaged with the dog, chanced to stand broadside towards him. with his left hand the hunter grasped one of the horns near its tip; and, using this as a fulcrum, he turned round upon it, and thrust the long blade between the ribs of the buck! it was a home-thrust--for the animal fell dead at hendrik's feet before he could let go his hold upon the horn. the blade had passed through its heart. as soon as hendrik had cooled a little from the conflict, he thought of groot willem, who had not yet come up. he began to fear that the latter might have received some serious injury, and he determined to ride back to the spot, letting the buck lie where it had fallen. he could return for it afterwards. fortunately his own well-trained horse had not run off--though left with trailing bridle--and hendrik was soon mounted and riding back on the spoor of the chase. there was one thing that mystified hendrik not a little. while battling with the buck he had heard the loud report of groot willem's roer. what could he have fired at? had any of the other antelopes come in his way? or was it a signal of distress? hendrik was mystified and felt some apprehension. he had not far to go to satisfy himself. on reaching the edge of the timber, he saw groot willem mounted and about starting forward to rejoin him. this was a joyful sight to hendrik, as the fact that groot willem was once more in the saddle and the "camel" upon his legs again, was good _prima facie_ evidence that neither had sustained any very serious damage. nor had they, as hendrik ascertained by riding up to the spot. groot willem was not so badly hurt as hendrik himself, for the latter had one of his arms well scored by the horns of the buck. groot willem's temper, however, was severely ruffled; and though hendrik was very much inclined to laugh at the accident, he forbore doing so, out of regard for his friend's feelings. hendrik now inquired about the report he had heard. was it the roer? groot willem answered his question in the affirmative, by a simple nod, at the same time pointing to an odd-looking animal that lay dead upon the ground, with all the appearance of having been freshly killed. hendrik rode forward, and, bending down in his saddle, for some moments regarded the animal. a rare and singular creature it was. it was about the size of a large terrier, but shaped very differently. it had the drooping hind-quarters that distinguish the hyenas, and altogether the look of these animals; but its muzzle was much more slender and pointed, its back more rounded, and its limbs not so stout as those of the hyena's. it was a more agreeable creature to look upon, and although its hair was long, it had a soft woolly appearance. the general colour of the hair was grey with a reddish tinge, and with black bands running transversely to the body of the animal. this as much as anything else caused it to resemble the hyena--that is, the species known as the "striped hyena," (_hyena striata_). it was not a hyena, however, but one of those odd animals that seem to belong to no class of creatures, but form a connecting link between several. south africa is especially prolific in such eccentric forms, both among its birds and quadrupeds. as an illustration of this, we might mention the wild-hound, the hyrax, the zerda, the fennec, the gnoo, and the aard-vark; and among birds, the serpent-eater, the bateleur eagle, and several other kinds. most of these odd animals are only represented by a single species, and that only to be found in south africa. now the creature that lay stretched out before the eyes of hendrik was just one of these zoological puzzles, that has occupied the attention of the systematists for a long while. some have classed it among dogs, others with hyenas, some make a civet of it, and others a fox. with all these animals it has affinities, both in habits and anatomical structure, but it is not near enough to any to be regarded either as dog, fox, civet, or hyena; and hence a genus has been created for itself--the genus _proteles_. it was a _proteles_ that lay upon the ground--_proteles delalandii_,--so called from its first describer, the traveller de lalande. hendrik and groot willem knew the animal by the name of "aard-wolf," or earth-wolf, so called because it lives underground in a burrow of its own making. they knew it well enough, for it is common through all south africa--even in the settled districts, though on account of its nocturnal and burrowing habits it is not often seen. it makes itself known to the boor by its evil propensities; and although he may rarely get his eyes upon it, as it is never abroad by day, he is often called upon to witness the dire effects of its midnight marauding. the sheep of south africa are of a singular breed--singular on account of their large fleshy tails, consisting of a mass of almost pure fat which often weighs several pounds, and is used by the colonial housewives in many operations of cookery. now these tails, hanging to the ground are the favourite _bonne-bouche_ of the aard-wolf, whose jaws, not strong like those of the hyena, compel him to feed upon soft substances. it is, therefore, no uncommon thing for the vee-boor to get up in the morning, and find several of his best sheep divested of their valuable tails, and all through the voracity of the aard-vark. it was not likely that either groot willem or hendrik was ignorant of the aard-vark. neither were they. hendrik did not ride up to examine the animal out of curiosity. he had seen such before, and killed them too. his object in bending over it was to see where groot willem's bullet had hit. "where had the creature come from?" he inquired. groot willem replied that it had issued from its burrow--the hole that had caused the "camel" to stumble. that it had come out, just as he, groot willem, recovered his feet; and that, provoked at it for having been the cause of his misfortune, he had sent a bullet through it, otherwise he would not have reckoned it worth his powder and lead. this explained the report of the roer. hendrik and groot willem were now about to return for the buck, with the intention of carrying as much of the meat to camp as they could manage upon their horses; when hans and arend came up, and the four rode off together. they quartered the antelope, and each having packed a quarter upon his croup, they set out for the camp. all of them were in good spirits, except perhaps groot willem, who had two reasons for feeling out of sorts,--the loss of his dog, and the loss of a little of his hunter-fame. and he was not permitted to forget his accident so easily, for although hendrik had forborne to give him further chagrin, yet hans and arend did not deal so delicately with him, but both laughed heartily at his unfortunate tumble. chapter eighteen. the arrow-poison. klaas and jan had long since ridden their ponies back to camp, and having off-saddled, remained by the wagons. for all that they were not idle--that is, they were not without something to interest and amuse them. swartboy was the genius worshipped by klaas and jan, for there was no bird in all africa that swartboy could not either snare or trap; and in his hours of leisure, when the oxen were kraaled and off his hands, he was in the habit of showing the two young "mynheers" how to construct many a sort of decoy and trap for the fowls of the air. upon this day in particular, however, they were more than usually interested in the bushman's proceedings, as his attention was turned to capturing,--not a fowl of the air, but of the earth,--an ostrich. swartboy had resolved to pluck the plumes out of the old cock that had been seen, and whose dwelling had been so rudely approached and plundered in the morning. but how was swartboy to capture the cock? it was not his intention to take him alive. that is a difficult matter, and can only be managed by men mounted upon fleet horses, and then after a very long and troublesome chase. swartboy had no wish to take the ostrich alive. the bird would be of no use to him in that way, as the skin and plume-feathers were the spoils upon which the bushman's thoughts were bent, or rather the rix-dollars which these would yield on swartboy's return to graaf reinet. therefore he did not intend to _catch_ the old cock, but _kill_ him, if he could. but how was the bushman to accomplish this? would he borrow the rifle from hendrik, or the great elephant-gun--the "roer"--from groot willem, and shoot the ostrich? not likely. swartboy was no shot, that is, with fire-arms. he knew nothing about them; and with either rifle or roer he could scarcely have hit an elephant, much less an ostrich! but if swartboy knew not how to manage a gun, he had a weapon of his own that he did know how to manage,--his bow. with that tiny bow,--scarce a yard in length,--and those small slender arrows, the bushman could send a missile as deadly as the leaden bullet of either rifle or roer. looking at the light reed, with its little barbed head and feathered shaft, you would scarcely believe it possible that such a weapon could bring down the big strong ostrich; and yet with a similar shaft had swartboy often levelled the great camelopard in the dust. a deadly and dangerous weapon was the bushman's arrow. but what rendered it so? not its size, and surely not the force with which it could be projected from that tiny bow? neither. there was something besides the strength of the bow and the weight of the arrow to make it a "deadly and dangerous weapon." there was _poison_. swartboy's arrows were true bushman weapons,--they were poisoned. no wonder they were deadly. the use of the bow among savage nations all over the earth, and the great similarity of its form and construction everywhere, may be regarded as one of the most curious facts in the history of our race. tribes and nations that appear to have been isolated beyond all possible communication with the rest of the world, are found in possession of this universal weapon, constructed on the same principle, and only differing slightly in details--these details usually having reference to surrounding circumstances. when all else between two tribes or nations of savages may differ, both will be found carrying a common instrument of destruction,--the bow and arrows. can it be mere coincidence, like necessities in different parts of the world producing like results, or is this possession of a similar weapon among distant and remote peoples a proof of unity or communication between them in early times? these inquiries would lead to a long train of reflections, which, however interesting, would here be out of place. but an equally or still more curious fact is that of _poisoned_ arrows. we find here and there, in almost every quarter of the globe, tribes of savages who poison their arrows; and the mode of preparing and using this poison is almost exactly the same among all of them. where there is a difference, it arises from the different circumstances by which the tribe may be surrounded. now the knowledge of arrow-poison, as well as the mode of preparing it and the habit of using it, belong to tribes of savages so completely isolated, that it is not probable--hardly possible, in fact--that either they or their ancestors could ever have communicated it to one another. we cannot believe that there ever existed intercourse between the bushman of africa and the chuncho of the amazon, much less between the former and the forest tribes of north america; yet all these use the arrow-poison and prepare it in a similar manner! all make it by a mixture of vegetable poison with the subtle fluid extracted from the fang-glands of venomous serpents. in north america, the rattlesnake and moccason, with several species of roots, furnish the material; in south america, the "wourali," or "curare," as it is indifferently called, is a mixture of a vegetable juice with the poison extracted from the glands of the coral-snake, (_echidna ocellata_), the "boiquira" or "diamond rattlesnake," (_crotalus horridus_), the lance-headed "viper," (_trigonocephalus lanceolate_) the formidable "bushmaster," (_lachesis rhombeata_), and several other species. in south africa, a similar result is obtained by mixing the fluid from the poison-glands of the puff-adder, or that of various species of _naja_, the "cobras" of that country, with the juice from the root of an amaryllis, called _gift-bol_ (poison-bulb) in the phraseology of the colonial dutch. it is out of such elements that the bushman mixes his dangerous compound. now our bushman, swartboy, understood the process as well as any of his race; and it was in watching him mixing the ingredients and poisoning his arrows that klaas and jan spent the early portion of that day. all the ingredients he carried with him; for whenever a "geel coppel," (_naja haje_), or a "spuugh-slang," (_naja nigra_), or the "puff-adder," (_vipera arretans_), or the horned viper, (_cerastes caudalis_,)-- whenever any of these was killed on the route--and many were--swartboy took care to open the poison-gland, situated behind their fangs, and take therefrom the drop of venom, which he carefully preserved in a small phial. he also carried another ingredient, a species of bitumen obtained from certain caverns, where it exudes from the rocks. the object of this is not, as supposed by some travellers, to render the charm "more potent," but simply to make it glutinous, so that it would stick securely to the barb of the arrow, and not brush off too easily. a similar result is obtained by the south american indians from a vegetable gum. the gift-bol, or poison-bulb, was easily obtained, as the species of amaryllis that yields it grew plentifully near. but swartboy had not trusted to this chance, as during past days he had plucked several of the roots, and put them away in one of the side-chests of the wagon, where many other little knick-knacks of his lay snugly stowed. klaas and jan, therefore, had the rare chance of witnessing the manufacture of the celebrated arrow-poison. they saw swartboy bruise the gift-bol, and simmer it over the fire in a small tin pan which he had; they saw him drop in the precious snake-venom; they saw him stir it round, until it became of a very dark colour, and then, to their great astonishment, they saw him try its strength _by tasting_! this seemed odd to both, and so may it to you, boy reader,--that a drop of poison, the smallest portion of which would have killed swartboy as dead as a herring, could be thus swallowed by him with impunity! but you are to remember that poisons, both vegetable and mineral, are very different in their nature. a small quantity of arsenic taken into the stomach will produce death, and yet you might swallow the head of a rattlesnake, fangs, poison-gland, and all, without the slightest danger. on the contrary, if a single grain of the latter were to enter your blood, even if it were only scratched in with a pin, its effects would be fatal, while other poisons may be introduced into the blood without any fatal result. swartboy knew there was no arsenic or any species of "stomach-poison," if i am allowed to use such a phrase, in his mixture. it was only "blood-poison," which he might _taste_ with impunity. the bitumen was the last thing put into the pan; and when swartboy had stirred it a while longer, and sufficiently thickened it, so that it would adhere to the barbs, he took down a quiver of arrows already made, and dipped each of them into the poison. as soon as the barbs had cooled, and the poison became well dried, the arrows were ready for use, and swartboy intended that some of them should be used on that very day. before the sun should set, he designed sending one or more of them through the skin of an ostrich. chapter nineteen. decoying the old cock. it was not the process of mixing the arrow-poison, so much as the use to be made of it, that interested klaas and jan. they knew that the bushman intended to try its effect on an ostrich that afternoon. more than that, swartboy had promised they should actually see how he managed matters, and witness the death of the ostrich. with such a prospect before them, the boys were in high spirits all the fore-part of the day. it was to be late in the afternoon, near sunset, in fact, before the sport should come off. of course not till the return of the ostriches to their nest--for it was there the drama was to be enacted. the nest and its environs were to be the scene of the tragedy--the time a little before sunset. such was swartboy's "programme." of course swartboy had leave from the older boys to go upon almost whatever expedition he pleased, but certainly upon this one, since klaas and jan were so interested about it. indeed, some of the others would have liked to take part in the affair, but for certain reasons that could not be. some of the hunters had doubts as to the result. they knew the poisoned arrow would kill any ostrich. they did not doubt that. but how was swartboy to get near enough to discharge one of his tiny shafts into the bird's body? that was the question that puzzled them. he proposed doing so in broad daylight. indeed there was no other time for him. all knew that before night the ostriches would return to their nest--as soon as the sun was low, and it became cooler,--but they knew also that the birds having found out what had happened in their absence would start off in alarm, and abandon the nest altogether. swartboy, therefore, would have no darkness to shelter him from their gaze. how was he to approach them within the range required for his small bow--that is, within less than fifty yards? did he intend to place himself in ambush and wait for their return? if he did, it must be near the nest, else he would have but a poor chance. there was no knowing in what direction the birds might come back, or which way they would scamper off again. now for swartboy to conceal himself near the nest, all believed to be an impossibility. there was not a bit of cover within five hundred yards of the spot--neither bush nor stone big enough to conceal the body of a man from creatures less wary than ostriches, but from these a cat could not have hidden her carcass within a circle of a thousand yards diameter. as to swartboy's sinking a "shooting-hole" and lying await in that, the boys never thought of such a thing. a shooting-hole surrounded by bushes might do for a lion, or a rhinoceros, or an elephant, but no ostrich could be bamboozled by any such _ruse_; for these birds--that on account of their appearance have been called stupid by some superficial observers--are in reality the very reverse. the slightest alteration in the form of the ground, either around their nests or near it, would be noted by them, and would prevent them from approaching it, except after such a reconnoissance as would defeat all swartboy's plans. but he had no thought of a shooting-hole--nothing of the sort. what plan, then, had he in his mind? the boys could not guess; and swartboy, like all cunning hunters, did not care to tell his plans to everybody. he preferred letting them discover them by his acts; and as all of them were hunters themselves and boys of good breeding, they did not persecute him with idle questions, but watched his preparations in silence. now one of his preparations, made before starting, was to take the little fennec that had been killed in the morning, and "truss" it with a number of skewers, in such a way that it stood upright upon its legs, and at a short distance looked as if it was "alive and well!" this was swartboy's last act, before setting out for the ostriches' nest. when it was finished, swartboy observed that the sun was low enough, and taking the fennec under his army and his bow in his hand, he struck off over the plain. the boys were to be spectators of the affair, but that was rather in a figurative sense. there were two pocket telescopes, and when swartboy promised that klaas and jan should be witnesses of the thing, he had these telescopes in his mind. for certain reasons he could not take any of the boys along with him, and from the wary character of the game they could not go near enough to observe it with the naked eye. to have done so would have driven the ostriches out of swartboy's reach, for it has been already stated that these far-seeing birds can sight an enemy farther off than they can themselves be seen. the telescopes, therefore, must be brought into play, and as klaas and jan begged to have the use of them, it was arranged that the two boys should climb into a tree, and describe what they saw to the rest, who stood below. that would be witnessing a spectacle by a sort of _second sight_, as arend jocosely remarked. klaas and jan were therefore hoisted up into a camel-thorn acacia; and, seating themselves on its branches, prepared their telescopes for use. the elevation enabled them not only to see the nest, for that was visible from the ground, but the surface of the plain to a considerable distance beyond. they would thus be enabled to note every movement either swartboy or the ostriches should make. now it has been stated that within a circle of five hundred yards radius from the nest, there was no cover that would have concealed a cat. with the exception of a stone here and there--none of them larger than a quartern loaf--the sandy surface was perfectly smooth and level as a table. the boys had noticed this in the morning. hendrik and groot willem had taken good notice of it, for they, as well as swartboy, had thought of "waylaying" the ostriches on their return, but had given up the idea, from the fact of there being no cover to conceal them from the eyes of the wary birds. but just outside the circumference mentioned, there was a chance of cover--a bush that by tight squeezing might have sheltered the body of a man. both hendrik and groot willem had seen this bush, but on account of its great distance from the nest they had never thought of its being used as a cover. five hundred yards off,--it might as well have been five miles. even had it been on the side by which the ostriches had gone off, and by which they, the hunters, conjectured they would return, the bush might have served. a shot might have been obtained as the birds came back to the nest. but it was not on that side,--on the very opposite--and in the direction of the camp. neither hendrik nor groot willem had entertained the idea of lying behind it. swartboy had; and to this bush now repaired swartboy as straight as he could go. for what purpose? to conceal himself behind it, and wait for the ostriches. that was his design. but what would his arrows avail--poisoned as they were--at the distance of five hundred yards? ah! swartboy knew what he was about. let us record his movements in the words of klaas and jan, who watched them narrowly. "swartboy has reached the bush," reported jan; "he lays down his bow and arrows beside it. now he has gone away from it. he is proceeding in a straight line towards the nest. he has the fox with him. see! he stops again,--a little beyond the bush he has halted--between it and the nest, but nearer the bush." "very near the bush," said klaas; "not twenty yards from it, i'm sure." "well, what does he do there?" demanded hendrik. "he appears to be stooping?" "he is stooping," replied jan. "let me see! he's got the fox in his hands, he is placing it on the ground! he has left it! i declare, it is standing by itself, as if it were alive!" "it's very clear what he intends by that," said hans; "i can understand now how he means to get the birds within range." "and i!" rejoined hendrik. "and i!" echoed groot willem. "now," continued jan, "he's going on to the nest--he has reached it, and is walking round and round, and stooping and kicking with his feet. i can't tell what he's about--can you, klaas?" "i think," replied klaas, "he's trying to cover up the broken shells we left there." "oh! that's exactly it!" said jan. "see! he's stooping over the nest, he has lifted an egg in his hand!" it is to be remembered that only the fresh eggs were brought away in the morning. those in the nest that had undergone hatching were of course let alone--all except one or two, that had been broken to "try" them. "he's coming back this way," said jan. "he has the egg in his hand! now he has put it down right under the snout of the fox!" "ha!" ejaculated hans, groot willem, and hendrik, "how cunning of old swart!" "now," continued jan, "he's back to the bush: and now he's squatted down behind it." after a little while both klaas and jan announced that swartboy was making no further movements, but continued to lie quietly. now the secret of swartboy's strategy lay in his knowledge of a fact in natural history,--a knowledge of the antipathy that exists between the ostrich and the egg-eating fox. swartboy's experience had taught him the habits of the fennec, and also the hostile feeling of the ostrich towards this enemy. so strong is this feeling on the part of the bird, that whenever it sets its eye upon one of these creatures it will run directly towards it, for the purpose of destroying it. on such occasions the speed of the quadruped will not save it. unless its burrow be nigh, or some thick bush or cleft among the rocks offer it a shelter, a single kick from the legs of the mighty bird at once puts an end to its prowling existence. swartboy knew all this, and for that reason had he set his decoy. conspicuously placed, the birds would be sure to see it; and with their nest half plundered, and one of the eggs still under its very nose, they would not be slow in coming up to take revenge upon the poor fennec, the supposed robber, and to them well-known burglar. "the ostriches are coming!" cried the sharp-sighted jan, after a long pause. "where?" asked klaas. "i don't see them yet;--where, jan?" "yonder," replied jan. "beyond the nest,--far off." "oh, now i see!" said klaas; "just the way they went off in the morning; three of them,--a cock and two hens,--they are the same, i suppose." "now they are getting up near the nest," reported jan; "now they are up to it. see them! what are they doing? they are running about in a terrible way. see! their heads move up and down,--they are striking with their legs. what are they about?" "i think," rejoined klaas,--"i declare i think they are _breaking the eggs_." "not a doubt of it," remarked hans. "that is always their way when they return and find the nest disturbed either by a human being or an animal. no doubt that is what they are at." hendrik and groot willem confirmed this statement by their assent. "oh!" exclaimed jan, "they have left the nest,--they are coming this way,--they are coming towards swartboy,--how fast they run! hey--they are upon the fennec! ho! they have kicked it over! see, they are pecking it with their bills and knocking it about like a foot-ball. hurrah! such a jolly game as is going on yonder!" "what is old swart doing, anyhow? they're near enough for a shot." "he's doing something," answered klaas. "i'm sure i saw him move. did he not draw his bow yonder?" "he did," replied jan; "he has let off an arrow. i saw his arms move suddenly. see, the ostriches are off again. ho! they are quite gone!" it was not so, however; for, although the three ran off on hearing the twang of the bushman's bow, they did not run far. after going some quarter of a mile or so, the cock began to droop his wings and run round in circles, the hens all the while following. his movements now became of a very eccentric kind, and it was plain that swartboy's arrow had pierced him, and the poison was doing its work. the bird reeled like a drunken man, once or twice fell to its knees, rose again, ran on a piece farther, flapping its wings, and vibrating its long neck from side to side; and then, staggering forward, fell upon the plain! for several minutes it continued to flutter, kicking out with its strong limbs, and raising the dust as if it had been a buffalo. at length its struggles ceased, and it lay motionless upon the sand. the two hens still continued near, and from their actions were evidently both surprised and alarmed. they did not, however, attempt to run off, until swartboy, knowing they were far beyond the reach of his bow, rose up from his ambush, and walked towards them. then both took to their heels, and scouring off over the plain, were soon out of sight. klaas and jan now reported that swartboy was stooping over the dead cock, and, as they believed, skinning him. that was exactly what swartboy was doing, for, about an hour after, he came into camp carrying the skin upon his shoulders, and with an air of triumph, that plainly said-- "congo, could you do that?" chapter twenty. a brush with the brindled gnoo. the young yagers resolved to stay a couple of days longer by the fountain in the mokhala grove. their object was to wait until the flesh of the blue-buck--which is excellent eating--should be reduced to biltong. they did not know what chance of game there might be upon their route for the next five or six days. the way was new to all of them--even to the guide congo, who had only a general knowledge of that part of the country. they were heading for the molopo river, and congo knew how to find that well enough; but their route through the interlying country he knew nothing about. there might be plenty of game--there might be a great scarcity of it--he could not tell. of course neither could swartboy. the hunters were now out of the bushman country and into a territory inhabited by poor tribes of the great bechuana family. swartboy's native district lay to the southwest, in the direction of namaqualand. he had never been so far east in his life, and of course was quite a stranger to the route they were pursuing. under these circumstances hans, who from his age and superior wisdom was looked upon as a sort of leader, recommended that they should not go forward until they had properly jerked the flesh of the blue-buck. that, with what remained of the gemsbok, would secure them against falling short of provision, should game prove scarce. they would only have to tarry a couple of days longer. that would be sufficient under such a strong sun to dry the biltong properly, whereas if packed without being well cured, the hot weather would spoil it directly, and they might be left in the lurch without a morsel of meat. their stay at their present camp was, therefore, prolonged for two days, during which time the flesh of the blue-buck, with the remaining parts of that of the oryx, hanging in red festoons from the branches of the acacias, became dark, stiff, and hard to the touch, and was then in a condition to keep for several weeks if required. but the young yagers did not remain constantly by the camp during all the intervening time. the biltong required no watching. it had been hung upon branches, sufficiently high to place it beyond the reach of prowling jackals and hyenas at night, and during the day there was always some one by the camp to keep off the vultures. on the first of these two days the young yagers mounted, all six, and rode off to the grassy plains, where they had hunted the blue-buck, in hopes of falling in either with this or some other species of antelope. they were not disappointed. on arriving at the plain, they perceived that it was occupied--not by one, but by several kinds of creatures. three species of animals were seen upon it. far out was a herd of small creatures, whose lyre-shaped horns, and yellow dun bodies, told that they were springboks,--a fact made plain by their strange behaviour,--by individuals of the herd now and then bounding up into the air, and throwing open the marsupial folding of skin over their croups, and displaying the long snow-white hair that lines that singular pouch. not far from these, and occasionally mixing among them, was a drove of larger animals, whose singular colour and markings could not be mistaken. they were _dauws_, or, in the clumsy language of the closet naturalists, "burchell's zebras," (_equus burchellii_). it has been already stated that this species differs from the true zebra in several respects. its ground colour is light sienna, while that of the zebra is nearly white. the stripes upon the former are dark brown, while those of the latter are pure black; but the most characteristic difference in the markings is, that in the true zebra the stripes continue in rings down the legs to the very hoofs, while in the dauw the legs are white. the ears and tail of the zebra are more asinine than those of the dauw, while the tail of the latter is much the longer, as indeed is the body of the animal. both are beautiful creatures--perhaps the most beautiful quadrupeds in the world--a fine horse always excepted. but in point of beauty the true zebra certainly excels the "burchell." they are very different in their habits--the zebra being a mountain-dwelling animal, while the dauw is strictly a denizen of the open plains, in places similar to those frequented by the quagga. although it never herds with the latter, in habits it resembles their species more than it does the zebra. observation of this fact by the boor hunters has led to the name among these people of "bonte quagga," (painted quagga.) the third kind of animals upon the plain was a very remarkable species; so odd in form and movements were they, that no one who had once seen either them, or a picture of them, could afterwards fail to recognise them. the young yagers had never set eyes upon them before, but they had all seen a kindred species, which, except in colour and a few minor details, is very like them. they had all seen the "wildebeest" or "gnoo," and this enabled them at once to recognise the "blauw-wildebeest," or "brindled gnoo," for such they were. they differ from the common wildebeest in being larger, somewhat heavier in form, scarcely so well shaped about the head and neck--the latter not curving as in the common species--more shaggy in the mane, the nose-tuft, and the long hair on the throat and breast. in colour they are quite different, being of a dirty bluish tint, variegated with irregular stripes, or "brindles." hence their trivial names of "blauw" wildebeest and "brindled" gnoo. the two kinds, "gnoo" and "brindled gnoo," are never found on the same plains; but give place to each other. the range of the latter species extends farthest to the north. they are scarcely ever found alone, but generally accompanied by droves of the dauw; (burchell's zebra or bonte quagga); and, what is a singular fact, the common species is rarely seen, except in company with the common quagga. although neither of these keep company with their own congeners they yet live socially with one another, both also herding at times with springboks, hartebeests, and ostriches. a singular and interesting sight it is to see the gnoos, antelopes, and wild asses, curveting and galloping over the plain, now wheeling in circles, now halting in line, anon charging from point to point, like troops of cavalry in a review, while the ostriches stalk about or stand motionless, their tall forms rising high above the rest, as if they were the officers and generals-in-chief of the spectacle! such a picture is often presented upon the karoo plains of southern africa. as soon as the young yagers came in sight of the plain, they pulled up their horses, and sat for some moments regarding the lively scene that was exhibited upon its surface. the springboks were browsing, though some individuals were constantly in the air bounding up as if for their own amusement. the dauws were trooping about, sometimes halting, and sometimes galloping from point to point, as if in play or alarmed by some intruder. the brindled gnoos, that is the cows, were browsing in a herd of thirty or forty in number, while the bulls stood around in small groups of three or four individuals, not moving, but apparently keeping a solemn watch over the others, every now and then snorting loudly, and uttering a sharp and peculiar cry, as if intended for some voice of warning or instruction. for hours the old bulls will hold this position, keeping apart from the rest, each little knot of them apparently conversing among themselves, while acting as sentries to the general herd of dauws, antelopes, and their own wives. after a few minutes' deliberation, the hunters agreed to make their attack upon the herd of gnoos. they formed no plan. stalking would be of little use, as they believed they would be able to ride down the wildebeest, and get a running shot; and it was to these they designed to give all their attention. the dauws--beautiful creatures as they were-- were of no use as _game_, and it was game the party wanted. the springboks did not interest them; but the flesh of the wildebeest would have been a treat to all. it is excellent eating, resembling beef rather than venison--for the gnoo is in reality more of an ox than an antelope. "roast beef for dinner!" was the word given by hendrik, and all the rest echoing this, they charged down upon the wildebeest herd. they made no attempt at concealing their approach, but dashed directly forward upon the game, the buck-dogs--now only five in number--in the advance, with hendrik's favourite heading. in an instant the herds upon the plain were in motion--each species going its own way. the dauws galloped off in a clump, holding a straight course over the plain; the springboks scattering in every direction, as is their wont; while the gnoos, first uniting into an irregular drove, ran forward some distance in a straight line, and then some broke to right and left, wheeled round, and came scouring back to the rear of the hunters! in a few minutes the whole appearance of the plain was changed. the zebras had gone out of sight, so, too, the springboks. the gnoos alone remained under the view of the hunters. these were not to be seen in any particular direction. they were everywhere around--some running off before the dogs--some wheeling around to the rear--some galloping past within two or three hundred yards, and then charging forward so near to the horses, that some of the riders thought they meant to attack them. with their fierce little eyes, their sharp curving horns, and black shaggy frontlets, they appeared most formidable enemies, and indeed they _are_ so when disposed to make an attack. when wounded they are dangerous even to a mounted hunter, but one afoot would stand little chance of escape from their frenzied and impetuous charge. one of the oddest circumstances observed by the young yagers was, that the bulls, instead of galloping right away, lingered in the rear of the retreating herd,--now wheeling round to gaze upon the hunters, snorting as they stood--now making a dash forward out of their way, and sometimes two of them facing each other, and engaging in combat! and these combats did not appear to be "shams." on the contrary, the old bulls seemed to butt each other in good earnest, rushing at one another from a distance, dropping upon their knees, and bringing their heads together, till their horns, and the thick bony helmet-like plates that covered their fronts, cracked loudly against each other. these battles appeared to be real; but, notwithstanding the earnestness of the combatants, they always gave up, and parted from the ground before the hunters could get within range. notwithstanding their carelessness about running away altogether, it was not so easy a matter to get a fair shot at one; and our yagers might have returned to camp empty-handed had it not been for their buck-dogs. these, however, chanced to stick together, and having selected an old bull, soon separated him from the rest, and drove him at full speed across the plain. hendrik and groot willem spurred after, and all the others followed, though falling to the rear as the chase continued. before the bull had gone two miles, the dogs began to pester him, and finding his heels failing he turned suddenly upon his canine pursuers, rushing at one and then another, as they came up, and knocking them over with his horns. it is possible he would have bayed all _five_ successfully; but the approach of the hunters caused him fresh alarm, and he broke bay, and once more stretched himself at full speed across the plain. another mile would have brought him into some low timber, and he appeared to make for that. he kept ahead of the dogs for awhile longer, but when within about a hundred yards of the thicket, his wind again failed him; and as the buck-dogs were taking an occasional pull at his flanks, he became desperate and once more stood to bay. the dogs soon ran in, but for awhile he was able to beat off all five, striking then right and left. at length some of them seized him by the throat, while the others clung to his tail and hind-quarters, and the struggle would no doubt have ended soon by their dragging the bull to the earth; but hendrik and groot willem rode up and ended it sooner by sending a pair of bullets through his ribs. chapter twenty one. a battle with a borele. hans and arend on this occasion had followed the chase, and were almost "in at the death;" and klaas and jan, who from the openness of the ground had had a view of the whole run, shortly after came up, spurring their panting ponies to the very top of their speed. all six now dismounted to rest both themselves and horses after their sharp gallop, and also to skin the bull. though arend was habitually _chef-de-cuisine_, hendrik and groot willem were the butchers; hans, "the botanist of the expedition," might also be termed its "green-grocer," as his knowledge of botany enabled him to keep the camp-table supplied with many species of esculent roots and vegetables to be found growing wild upon the plains of southern africa. while hendrik and groot willem were flaying off the skin, hans and arend were busy with the head and horns, preparing them for preservation. it was nearly as much on account of these as for his meat that they had hunted the gnoo. they would also be trophies in the halls of the graaf reinet; for although the horns of the common gnoo are easily had, those of the brindled species are more precious, for the reason that the latter animal inhabits a more remote part of the country. klaas and jan acted as assistants to the other four--now handing a knife, now holding a limb or flap of skin, and making themselves "generally useful." all six, therefore, were engaged. while thus employed, all of them bending and stooping one way or another, over the dead bull, and none of them keeping a look-out, a queer sound fell upon their ears that caused them to start all together into an erect attitude. the sound they had heard was a loud snort, followed by a blowing noise, somewhat similar to that made by terrified swine, but much fuller and louder. there was, also, the noise of snapping twigs and breaking branches. these sounds caused all six to start, and some of them to tremble with fear; and the sight that came under their eyes as they looked up confirmed them in that emotion. in truth, it was a sight that would have inspired with alarm older hearts than theirs. breaking through the bushes, and causing the branches to bend and crackle, came a large animal. the tall upright horn upon its snout, its huge heavy body, and strong massive limbs, left them no room to doubt what sort of animal it was. it was a rhinoceros! there are four species of these in south africa; but the dark colour of its skin and the double horn proclaimed the one now seen to be the black rhinoceros, or "borele"--the fiercest and most dangerous of the four. when the boys first heard it, it was crashing through the bushes close to the edge of the thicket, but they had scarce turned their eyes in that direction before it shot out of the timber, head towards them, and came on at full gallop. its head was raised high in air, its ears were in motion, and its small but saucy-looking tail was flirted about in a confident manner. its black eyes gleamed with a malicious expression, and its air was one of anger and menace. the terror inspired by its look was not lessened by the loud snorting and blowing that issued from its fiery nostrils. the boys saw at once, and to their alarm, that it was charging upon _them_! there could be no doubt about the matter. its whole appearance denoted that it was bent upon attacking them, for it was heading directly for the spot where they stood. they knew, moreover, that there was nothing odd in that,--they knew that the black rhinoceros will charge upon any creature, whether man, quadruped, bird, or _bush_, without the slightest provocation! it is needless to say that the boys were in a dilemma, and were aware of it as well. there were they, all six afoot upon the plain, with a fierce borele rushing up to them, and at less than a hundred yards distance! fortunately for them the steeds were all well-trained, and fortunately the riders had had the precaution to fasten them in such a manner that it required but little time to get them free. but for these two circumstances some one of the six must certainly have been lifted upon the death-dealing horn of the borele. as it was the horses had been tied all around a tree that stood near. each had his bridle looped to a small branch, so small that it could be wrenched off in a second of time, but large enough to keep a horse steady for awhile, unless something should alarm and startle him. this was a precaution the hunters had been taught by their fathers, and the knowledge now stood them in stead. of course the moment the borele "hove" in sight, there was an end to the skinning of the gnoo. there was a chorus of cries expressing terror, a flinging away of knives, a sudden rush to the horses, a seizing of bridles, a snapping off of branches, and a simultaneous leaping into six saddles. all these acts did not take ten seconds of time to accomplish, and the last of them was not accomplished one second too soon; for the riders had just time to turn the heads of their horses to the plain as the borele came up. in fact, so close to them had he got his hideous snout that several of the horses shied and plunged as they took to flight, nearly dismounting one or two of the riders. to have been unhorsed at that moment would have been a perilous business. all kept their seats, however, and in a moment more were flying over the plain in a close clump, the borele snorting at their heels. now that they were in their saddles, and galloped freely off, some of the yagers were disposed to laugh. hendrik and groot willem were among the number. they knew that the speed of a rhinoceros is no match for that of a horse, and they would soon get out of his way. they were disposed to regard the chase as a bit of fun rather than otherwise. all at once, however, a thought came into their minds that turned their merry mood into a feeling of new and painful apprehension. the young yagers were riding in pairs. hendrik and groot willem, mounted on their swift horses, had forged some distance ahead of the others. on turning their faces backward they perceived that the two boys, klaas and jan, had fallen considerably to the rear, and that the borele was pushing them closely. he was not twenty yards behind either, for they rode side by side, as if in a racing gallop. hans and arend were further in advance, and these also looking back at the same instant perceived the perilous situation of their younger brothers. to all four the idea seemed to occur at the same moment, that though a horse can outrun the rhinoceros, a pony _cannot_, and the thought drew from them a simultaneous expression of alarm. beyond a doubt klaas and jan were in danger. should the borele overtake them, their ponies would not save them. the huge brute would gore these animals to death, or impale them at the first stroke of his stout sharp horn. beyond a doubt the boys were in danger! so thought their four brothers as they glanced back; and, as they continued to gaze, they became the more convinced of this fearful truth. they saw that the distance between them and the rhinoceros, instead of widening, was gradually growing less--the borele was gaining upon them! it was a moment of painful apprehension with all four; but at this moment hendrik performed one of the neatest manoeuvres that had occurred during the whole expedition. with a wrench upon his bridle he turned suddenly out of his course, and then wheeling round rode backward, calling on groot willem to act similarly, but with his head turned to the opposite side. groot willem, as if by instinct, obeyed, and, diverging suddenly from each other, the two wheeled right and left at the same instant. their horses' heads were now turned to the rear, and after going a pace or two they halted, and got their guns in readiness. first hans and arend swept past between the two halted hunters,--then passed klaas and jan upon the frightened ponies, and then came "borele." before the last had got fairly on a line, hendrik and groot willem covered his huge body, fired, and then, galloping round to his rear, commenced reloading. both balls took effect, and, though neither brought the brute to the ground, they made a decided alteration in his pace, and in a moment it was perceived that he was running slower, while the blood flowed freely from his wounds. he still, however, kept on after the ponies; and it is hard to say how far he might have followed them, had it not been that hans and arend, exactly imitating the manoeuvre of hendrik and groot willem, now also wheeled right and left, came back a pace or two, halted, and delivered their pieces in the face of the rhinoceros. again the bullets took effect, and again did not prove fatal. but the danger, as far as klaas and jan were concerned, was over; for the borele, instead of pursuing the ponies further, turned short on his nearer antagonists, and rushed first upon one, then the other, with all the strength and fury that was left in his body. several charges were made by him without effect, as the riders, now faced towards him, were able to spring to one side and gallop out of his way. for nearly a quarter of an hour the battle was kept up, the four loading and firing as fast as they could under the circumstances. at length the day was decided by a bullet from the big elephant-gun of groot willem, which, penetrating the skull of the huge borele, sent him rolling over in the dust. a loud "hurrah!" proclaimed the victory, and the six yagers now rode up and alighted by the huge body of the borele, that, prostrate and lifeless, no longer caused them alarm. an axe was obtained from the wagon, and his long anterior horn--a splendid trophy--was hacked off from his snout, and carried away; while another journey was made for the meat and horns of the blauw-wildebeest, which were packed behind the hunters upon the croups of their horses, and brought safely into camp. chapter twenty two. the interrupted breakfast. next morning the young yagers slept late--because they had nothing particular to do. they did not purpose continuing their journey before the following morning; and on that day they intended to lie up, so that their horses, might rest and be fresh for the _road_. they rose, therefore, a little later than usual, and breakfasted on the tongue of the brindled gnoo, with hot coffee and hard bread; a stock of which they had brought along in their wagons, and which still held out. it would not have been as great a deprivation to the young yagers to have gone without bread, as it would to you, boy reader. there live many people in south africa to whom bread is a luxury almost unknown. many tribes of the native people never eat such a thing, and there are thousands of the frontier dutch colonists, that do without it altogether. the people of south africa, both native and colonial, are not an _agricultural_ but a _pastoral people_, and therefore pay but little attention to the cultivation of the soil. their herds of horned cattle, their horses, their flocks of big-tailed sheep and goats, engross all their time, and _agricultural_ farming is not to their taste. although the wealthier among the boors plant a few acres of kaffir corn--a variety of the "indian corn," or maize--and sow some bushels of "buckwheat," yet this is principally for their own use. this class also cultivate many kinds of vegetables in their gardens, and have large orchards containing apples, peaches, pomegranates, pears, and quinces, with vineyards for the grape, and enclosures for melons, cucumbers, and pumpkins. but among the poorer classes, and particularly on the remote frontier, such things are hardly thought of; and their cattle _kraals_ are the only enclosures around the dwelling of the "vee-boor," or stock-farmer. among these people, bread is a rarity, and their staple food is "biltong," and fresh beef or mutton cooked in a variety of ways, and so as to be quite palatable--for the _cuisine_ of the boor is by no means to be despised. in many parts the staple food of the frontier boor is venison--that is, in districts where the ordinary game has not yet been exterminated. within the frontier districts, springboks are plenty, as also the common wildebeests; and piles of the horns of these may be seen lying around the kraals of every vee-boor. the flesh of the wildebeests, as already stated, is more like beef than venison, and when fat, or cooked in the delicious fat of the great sheep's tails, is excellent eating. the quagga, which is also common in these parts, is killed for its flesh; but this is rank and oily, and only eaten by the hottentot servants. our young yagers were the children of wealthy parents, and had therefore learnt to eat bread, though on a pinch they could have got along without it. but they had brought several sacks of biscuit with them, and with these and coffee, and the tongue of the blauw-wildebeest, they were making a hearty breakfast. they were all right merry, chatting over their adventure with the borele, and laughing at the danger now that it was past. they were taking their time with their breakfast, eating it leisurely and in no hurry, as they meant to spend the day in a sort of _dolce far niente_ manner--loitering about the camp, or perhaps putting in a stitch wherever there should be a weak place in either saddle or bridle, so as to make themselves thoroughly ready for the route. every precaution would be required to ensure their safety against the wide stretch of desert they would have to cross. while in this mood, and about half through with their meal, an announcement was made that was likely to upset all their plans for the day. the announcement came from congo, who had been loitering out on the desert side of the mokhala grove, and who came running into camp, in breathless haste, to report that a large flock of ostriches were out upon the plain! the yagers, but particularly klaas and jan, bristled up at the news, uttering various exclamations of joy. a sudden change took place in their manner. their jaws wagged more rapidly; the gnoo-tongue disappeared in larger slices; the coffee was quaffed in big hurried gulps; and the second half of their meal did not occupy the tenth part of the time that had been taken up with the first. in less than two minutes from the time congo made his report the breakfast was finished; and in five minutes more the horses were all saddled, bridled, and mounted. resting the animals was no longer thought of. everything had gone out of the heads of their riders except an ostrich "surround." where was swartboy to take part in the affair, and to give his advice? all acknowledged that the bushman knew more about hunting the ostrich than any of them--congo not excepted. indeed, this was true in regard to most kinds of _desert_ animals, as also of the smaller mammalia and birds. congo had lived all his life among a people who keep cattle--for the kaffir nations are not mere hunters, but a pastoral people--and although he knew how to destroy the lion, the leopard, the hyena, and other carnivorous creatures, he was less accustomed to the killing or capturing of game, since the vast herds of cattle bred and reared in his country render such knowledge but of secondary importance. not so with swartboy. the bushmen have no cattle, except those which at times they steal from their neighbours, the griquas, bastaards, and trek-boors; and these are never _kept_, but killed and devoured as soon as they are driven to the bushmen haunts. the want of domestic animals, therefore, with the necessity of having something to eat, compels the bushman to use all his ingenuity in the capturing or killing of wild _game_, which among bushmen includes every living creature from the locust and lizard to the camelopard and elephant! the natural consequence of such a life must be the arriving at a perfect knowledge of the haunts, habits, and mode of hunting the wild creatures that people their country; and in this very knowledge swartboy was believed to excel even among his countrymen, for it was known that in his own land he had been considered a "mighty hunter." where was swartboy at that moment? he had not been seen for an hour or more. congo said that he had driven off the oxen to pasture upon the grass plain to the rear of the camp, and no doubt he was there herding them. it was proposed that some one should go for him, but this was objected to on account of the loss of time. congo said that the oxen were a good way off. it would take half-an-hour to bring swartboy into camp, and before the end of that period the ostriches might be ten miles off. no; they could not wait for swartboy. they must proceed without him; and, mounting their horses, the yagers rode off towards the desert plain. chapter twenty three. the ostrich "surround." on reaching the edge of the grove they halted to reconnoitre, still keeping under cover of the timber. congo had reported truly. there _was_ a flock of ostriches, sure enough. there were seven of these great birds in one "clump," and an eighth at no great distance from the rest. of the seven, five appeared to be hens and two of them cocks. the one apart was also a cock. i say _appeared_ to be. you will imagine there could be no doubt, since the male and female of these birds are so very unlike in the colour of their plumage. that is true when they have attained to a certain age; but the young males, even when full-grown, do not get the beautiful white feathers all at once, and for a long time can hardly at a distance be distinguished from the females. that, however, was not the reason why the young yagers were in doubt about their sex. it was because the birds were in a position nearly due east from the point of observation, and the sun being yet only a few degrees above the horizon, his rays fell in such a manner as to prevent them from having a clear view. to use a common phrase, the sun was "in their eyes." for all that, they could count the ostriches, and believed that of the eight three were cocks and the rest hens. the seven in the "clump" were stationary; that is, they were not moving away from the spot. some were stalking leisurely about, occasionally taking a "peck;" and it must have been sand or pebbles they were eating, as there was not the semblance of vegetation near the spot. some sat squatted upon their "hams," their long legs doubled underneath; and one or two were lying along the ground, and fluttering in the sand, just as common hens and turkeys do in warm weather. the dust raised by these formed a little cloud that floated around them, and added to the difficulty of distinguishing either their sex or their movements. the seven were at no great distance from the edge of the mokhala grove, and the one that was separate was still nearer. he was going towards them, stooping his head at intervals, and feeding as he went. from this circumstance, the boys conjectured that he had been much nearer, which conjecture was strengthened by congo, who said, that when he had first observed them, this old cock was not two hundred yards from the edge of the timber, and was then going out, just as now. perhaps he had been within shot of the cover. what a pity, thought klaas and jan, they had not been earlier on the look-out! the hunters did not waste many moments in watching the manoeuvres of the birds. their attention was entirely given to their purpose of surrounding them, and discussing a plan to effect that object. now these ostriches were not near the nest which had been plundered, and was now deserted; nor was it likely that the were of the family to whom that nest belonged--not even relatives in fact--else they would have heard of the calamity, and would have been comporting themselves in a very different manner from the easy style in which they were taking it. none of the five hens could be they that, but two days before, had witnessed the fall of their plumed lord by the bushman's arrow, for it was not likely that these would return to that part of the country. the flock now seen had no connection whatever with the nest. the place they were in was at a good distance from the scene of the late tragedy. the young yagers were glad of this; not that they cared about the matter of relationship, but because the place where the birds were now seen offered superior advantages for a "surround." it was a sort of large bay, where a spur of the desert plain ran into the timber, and was more than half encircled by low woods and thickets of acacia. only one side--that toward the wide desert--was open. on all other sides there was cover for the hunters. on this account the latter had very little difficulty in deciding how to act, and in a few minutes their plan was arranged. hendrik and groot willem, being the best mounted, were to ride to the two most distant points, one of them taking the right side of the great bay, the other the left. they were to keep under cover of the thicket all the way round; and when either arrived at the point where the timber stretched farthest out upon the plain, he was to stop awhile, until the other showed himself on the opposite side. both were then to gallop towards each other, but not to meet. they were to halt at such a distance from one another as would best enable them to cut off the retreat of the ostriches from the outer plain. hans and arend were respectively to follow in the tracks of hendrik and groot willem; but they were to halt within the edge of the timber when half round, and wait until they should see the others out upon the plain. then they were to show themselves, and turn the ostriches, should they run their way. klaas and little jan were also to separate and ride some distance from the spot; but the disposal of these boys in their places was taken in hand by the others; and so the whole party started at the same time, three filing off to the right, and three to the left. congo's instructions were, not to show himself until he should perceive hendrik and groot willem galloping towards each other. he was then to act just as the others, except that "shanks'-mare" was to be his horse. should the ostriches allow time for hendrik and groot willem to get to their stations, the surround would be complete; and it was highly probable that they would have good sport, and either capture or kill some of the giant birds. when thus assailed upon all sides, the ostrich gets confused, and acts in the most stupid manner, being easily turned, and driven about from "post to pillar." it was a question of time, therefore, and it would take a good while for the surround to be made, as the plain on which the birds were was full three miles wide. both hendrik and groot willem would have twice that length to ride; and their path lying through bushes, they would be unable to move faster than a walk. for some time the only one that watched the movements of the ostriches was the kaffir. the others were making their way through the thicket, and only had a peep now and then, as they passed some place where an opening in the leaves allowed them. they were too anxious, however, to get to their different stands to stop at any place between. all felt that time was precious; for should the game take alarm, and start off to the open plain, the trouble they were taking would be all in vain. none of them, therefore, thought of looking at the birds--only to satisfy themselves that they were still there--until they had reached their respective places. chapter twenty four. the odd cock. during all this time congo watched the movement of the flock as well as the sun in his eyes would allow him. he noticed that the cock that had been feeding apart from the rest had now got close up to them,--within a few yards; but that the others had arisen at his approach, and, stretching out their long necks, appeared to regard him as a stranger. after a moment all seven turned, as if alarmed at something, and ran away--the odd cock running after, though falling a little in the rear. the flock only went for twenty yards or so, and then halted, as if they had got over their slight alarm. the old cock again stalked slowly up, now and then dropping his head to the ground, and pecking up a grain or two of something on his way. when he got close to the flock a second time, they seemed to take fresh alarm, ran twenty yards farther, and again stopped. it appeared as if the old cock was a stranger to the rest, and that they considered his presence an intrusion! again he approached them, and again they made a short run; this time not in a direct line, but in a circle around him, so that they came back nearly to their original ground. this time, however, only the five hens ran off. both the cocks remained near the spot; but the movements of these now puzzled congo not a little. one of them had squatted down, just as they had been first observed, while the other ran about in very small circles, occasionally fluttering his white plumes, and acting altogether like a drunken man! after a few minutes the manoeuvres of all appeared to change. the one that had seated himself appeared to _lie_ down and remain quiet, while he that had the "staggers" squatted down not far off; and presently a hen came running up and sat down beside him; so that now there remained upon their feet only one cock and four of the hens. the whole scene puzzled congo, who was not from an ostrich country, and was but indifferently acquainted with the habits of these birds. no doubt, thought he, the creatures were about some game of their own, such as he had often seen with the "kooran" and partridges. there were others than congo puzzled at what was passing among the ostriches. klaas and jan, who had reached their stations sooner than the rest, and who had been observing the odd actions of the birds, were both puzzled as to what they were about; and a little later hans and arend had a surprise, and were equally at a loss what to think of the game of "fits and starts" that was going on upon the plain. but hans and arend had not much time to observe. they had both gone far round, and they expected soon to see hendrik and groot willem gallop out from the timber, so they kept their eyes in that direction. they were not disappointed. a few minutes after both were seen to shoot forth at full speed, and ride in diverging lines, so as to approach each other, and at the same time get nearer to the ostriches. as soon as the others saw them, the whole five, congo included, showed themselves on the open ground, all making towards a common centre--the spot where the ostriches were. the hunters were now more surprised than ever. as they rode forward, they perceived that several of the great birds were seated, or lying upon the ground. they were basking, no doubt; but, for birds so wary, why did they not spring up and take to flight? they must already have perceived the approach of the horses or heard the sound of their trampling hoofs? only two of the hens appeared at all alarmed; and these ran in the direction of the outer plain, but turned when they saw hendrik and groot willem. only one other was upon its feet; and that was the old cock that had kept apart? he was still standing erect, but did not attempt to fly! it was very odd. this old cock chanced to be nearest to hendrik and groot willem; and going, as they were, at race-horse speed, they were scarce a minute in riding down upon him. they had got within less than five hundred yards; and, with guns ready, were resolved to give him a tail-on-end chase, and try a flying shot, when, to their tremendous surprise, a loud and terrified yell came from the bird, and the next moment his skin flew from his shoulders, discovering, not a naked ostrich, but a naked bushman, with his legs chalked white to the very hips! _that bushman was swartboy_! it was, indeed, old swart dressed up in the skin of the old cock he had lately shot with his poisoned arrow; and it was that same arrow, or half-a-dozen like it, that had been causing the mysterious movements among the ostriches. five of them already lay around dead or dying; while the two hens, that had not yet received their billet, during the surprise consequent on swartboy revealing himself, had managed to escape. fortunately for swartboy he "sung out" at the moment he did. another half minute, and he would have fared no better than his own victims the ostriches. he acknowledged that he had been badly "scared." in looking after the ostriches, he had never thought of looking for any thing else; and from the manner in which his eyes were placed under the feathers, he could not see very well around. his ears, too, "muffled" up as they were within the skin of the old cock, were of little service to him; so that it was by mere accident he saw the horsemen galloping down upon him. even then it cost an effort to "cast" his skin, and appear _in propria persona_! now, when the young yagers thought of the curious incident that had just taken place, and then looked at the naked body of swartboy, chalked white from hip to heel, the whole six sat in their saddles and laughed till their very sides ached. swartboy, proud of his achievement, looked round him like a conqueror, and then fixing his eyes upon his rival, put the simple but equivocal interrogatory-- "eh! congo! ole kaffir boy! dat you?" _the carapace was eclipsed_! chapter twenty five. blesboks and bonteboks. next morning our party inspanned and treked over the desert plain in a north-easterly direction. they were two days in crossing it, and their oxen suffered much from thirst, as during the two days they did not taste water. for themselves they had water enough. part of the contents of each wagon was a good water-cask, that held eighteen gallons; and these, of course, they had filled before leaving the spring. one of these casks they divided among their horses, allowing them a little over two gallons apiece; but that was nothing for two days' march over such a country. even the yagers themselves required as much. this statement would not surprise you, if you had ever travelled in a tropical clime and over an arid waterless plain under a hot glaring sun. there thirst is provoked in a short while, and water will quench it only for a few minutes at a time. the appetite constantly returns, and calls for copious draughts; so that a traveller will often consume not glasses, but gallons, of water, in a single day! having crossed the desert plain, the hunters now entered upon a country that differed entirely from that they had left behind. they had arrived in a country of vast extent, upon which stood hills of strange and varied forms. some were of a rounded, hemispherical shape; others were cones; others had flat-table tops; and still others pierced the sky with sharp needle-like pinnacles. these hills were of various sizes--some approaching the dimension of mountains; but most of them rose directly from the plains, without any _piedmont_ or "foothills" intervening between the level surface and their sloping or precipitous sides. the country bore a very strong resemblance to the plateaux that lie among the cordilleras of the andes; and the geological formation of this part of africa is very similar to the table-lands of mexico. many of the mountains of conical and pyramid form stood isolated upon the plain, some of them bare of vegetation from base to summit. others, again, carried a dark mantle of forest, that covered only their lower half, above which rose bare peaks of white quartz that under the sun glittered like snow. the plains between were some of them of vast extent--so wide that at times the mountains that bordered them could be but dimly seen. but there were plains of every size and form. their surface was covered with a species of grass quite different from that of the region our hunters had hitherto been passing over. it formed a short sward like a meadow lately mown, or a well-browsed pasture-ground, for such in reality it was--well-browsed and closely cropped, and trodden to a hard turf, by the countless herds of wild ruminant animals, of which it was the favourite range. unlike the long flowing sweet grass upon the plains south of the orange river, these were covered with a short crisp curly herbage of saltish taste; and in many spots an effervescence of that mineral covered the ground, whitening the blades of grass like a hoar-frost. salt deposits, or salt-pans as they are termed, were also common, some of them extending for miles over the plain. the yagers had reached a peculiar country, indeed. they had arrived in the "zuur-veldt," the country of the sour grass--the favourite home of the _blesbok_ and _bontebok_. what are these? they are two antelopes, whose gracefulness of form, swiftness of foot, but, above all, the lively and striking colour of their bodies, have rendered remarkable. they belong to the genus _gazella_, but in many of their habits they differ considerably from the gazelles, though differing so slightly from each other that by both travellers and naturalists they have been regarded identical. this is not so. they are distinct species, though inhabiting the same country, and following the same mode of life. the blesbok (_gazella albifrons_) is neither so large nor so brilliantly marked as the bontebok, (_gazella pygarga_). his horns are of a light colour, nearly white, while those of the bontebok are black. in the colour of the legs there is also a marked difference. the legs of the bontebok are white from the knee down, while those of his congener are only white on the insides--the outsides being brown. the bontebok is not only one of the loveliest antelopes in africa, but one of the swiftest. indeed, there are those who hold that he is _the swiftest_. in size he equals the european stag, and his form is light and graceful. his horns are fifteen inches in length, black, robust at the base, semi-annulated and diverging. they rise erect from the top of his head, bending slightly backward, and then forward at the tips. but it is the beautiful colouring of his skin which is the principal characteristic of this antelope. in this respect both he and the blesbok bear some resemblance to the antelopes of the _acronotine_ group--the hartebeest and sassabye. the colours of the bontebok are purple violet and brown of every shade-- not mingling together, but marking the body as if laid on by the brush of a sign-painter. hence the name "bontebok," or "painted buck," as given by the dutch colonists to this species. first, the neck and head are of a deep brown, with a tinge of the colour of arterial blood. between the horns a white stripe commences, and after reaching the line of the eyes widens out so as to cover the face to the very muzzle. this mark, or "blaze," is common to both the species, and to one of them has given the trivial name "blesbok," (blaze-buck.) the back is of a blue lilac colour, as if glazed; and this extends along the sides, so as to remind one of a saddle. bordering this, and running along the flanks, is a broad band of deep purple brown. the belly and insides of the thighs are of pure white colour; the legs are white from the knees down, and there is a large white patch on the croup. the tail reaches to the hocks, and is tufted with black hair. such is the colour of the bontebok, and that of the blesbok differs from it only in the points already mentioned, and in its colours being somewhat less marked and brilliant. both are beautiful creatures, and their skins are much prized by the native savages for making the "kaross,"--a garment that serves them both as a cloak by day and a bed and blankets at night. the habits of both species are quite similar. they dwell upon the plains of the "zuur-veldt," congregating in vast herds of many thousands that cover the ground with their purple masses. in this respect they resemble the springboks and other gazelles; but they have habits peculiar to themselves. the springboks, when alarmed, take to flight and scatter off in any direction, whereas the bonteboks and blesboks invariably run against the wind, bearing their noses close along the ground, like hounds upon a trail! they are fleeter than springboks, and also more shy and wary, as though they knew that their spoils are more valuable to the hunter, and therefore required greater skill and speed to preserve them. both species were once common in what are now the settled districts of south africa, their range extending to the cape itself. that is now restricted to the "zuur-veldt" districts, north of the great orange river. a few bonteboks are still found within the colonial borders in the district of swellendam; but their existence there is accounted for by an act of the government, which places a fine of six hundred rix-dollars upon any one who may destroy them without licence. our young yagers had now arrived in the land of the blesbok and bontebok. chapter twenty six. stalking the blesboks. when they had got fairly within the boundaries of the blesbok country, the young yagers resolved to make halt for a day or two, and hunt these beautiful antelopes. not that they desired their flesh, but they wished to strip one or two of them of their bright, parti-coloured robes, to be hung up along with their horns in the halls of graaf reinet. after treking some miles across the plains, they outspanned by a vley, and formed their camp. the following morning they mounted their horses, and proceeded over the plain in search of the purple antelopes. they were not long in finding them. that is by no means a difficult thing with an animal that herds together in thousands, provided you chance to be in the district it inhabits; and the yagers were not slow in coming within view of a herd of blesboks. but how to hunt them was a knowledge which none of the party possessed-- whether to let slip the buck-dogs and gallop right into the thick of the herd, or to get within shot by stalking--which of these was the proper manner neither the young yagers nor their drivers knew. in swartboy's country neither blesboks nor bonteboks are known. they do not range to the western half of south africa, and the young yagers only knew them by tradition. their fathers had hunted them years before; but both species had been long since exterminated south of the orange river. as for congo, although their range extended into a part of the kaffir country, he had never chanced to hunt in that particular district. of course neither bushman nor kaffir were on the ground with the hunters. they had been left in charge of the camp; but the advice of both had been asked at setting out, and it was ascertained that they had none to give. the hunters were at a loss how to proceed, and held a discussion upon it. groot willem thought they should be hunted like springboks,--that is, the hunters should take stand and conceal themselves, while one or two rode round and drove the game upon these--a mode practised with the fallow-deer in the forests of north america, and there termed "driving." hendrik believed that they could be "ridden into," and run down by the dogs. hans recommended "stalking," with which, plan arend agreed. of course no opinion was either asked from or given by the lads klaas and jan. had they been birds, they would have insisted upon their "say" as well as their elder brothers. but blesboks are not birds, although in less than an hour after they proved themselves to be almost as swift. now, as stalking was the mode least likely to give the herd the alarm and seed them off, it could be tried first. should no one succeed in getting within shot, then groot willem's plan might be adopted; and should it also fail to be successful, it would still not be too late to follow hendrik's advice, and ride right at them. first, then, for a "stalk." they were not going to stalk them upon horseback. that would never do, though there are some animals that will suffer a mounted man to approach hearer than one afoot. but blesboks are not of that kind. all dismounted, therefore, and proceeded on foot in the direction of the herd. not all, exactly. klaas and jan remained on the spot in charge of the dogs and horses. klaas and jan were to have no share in the stalk. the herd was in the middle of a vast open plain--so wide that the mountains on its opposite side were scarcely visible. upon all that plain not a bush or rock appeared. the grass, as already stated, was short cropped, and smooth as a meadow--not a break in the surface to offer a chance of concealment to the hunter! how, then, could they talk of "stalking" on such ground? they knew that no wild animal, however stupid or negligent, would permit them to walk up within point-blank range and fire at them. how, then, were they going to approach the blesboks, that they had heard were any thing but stupid--on the contrary, were exceedingly shy and watchful of danger? how? that is a peculiar point, and requires explanation. although there were neither rocks, nor trees, nor bushes of any kind, nor long grass, nor inequalities in the ground, there was still a species of "cover." not the best, it is true, but such as would serve a skilful hunter who knew how to take advantage of it. enough to give hopes to the yagers, else they would not have dreamt of such a thing as an attempt to stalk the blesboks. scattered over the plain, and standing at irregular distances of from one to three hundred yards of each other, were numerous singular structures. they were of the form of obtuse cones, or hemispherical, and all of a light grey colour--the colour of sun-dried mud. on the sides of most of them at their bases could be seen a hole of irregular outlines, and evidently not made by the neat workmen who had built the mounds. quite the contrary. these entrances to the hollow domes within were not for them. theirs were underground. these had been made by their enemies--the burglars who had plundered their houses. i am sure i need hardly tell you that the structures thus described were ant-hills, and that the big holes in this side were the work of the long-tongued "aard-vark," or the scaly "pangolin." the hills in question were dome-shaped, and of moderate size--varying from one to three feet in height. this is by no means as large as many ant-hills found in southern africa. some are four times that height, or still higher; but i have told you elsewhere of these high hills, and that there are different species of ants who construct such curious nests--each species choosing its own style of architecture,--some the cone, or pyramidal form,--some a complete cluster of cones,--some build them of cylindrical shape, and others nearly half-spherical, like inverted tea-basins. of these last were the ant-hills now under the eyes of the young yagers. they were the nests of the _termes mordax_--a species that inhabits all the plains of the "zuur-veldt" country. the hunters proceeded to stalk forward, their eyes bent upon the antelopes, and their hopes fixed upon the ant-hills. of course they did not commence crouching, until they had tried how near the blesboks would allow them to come without cover. this they soon discovered to be about four hundred yards; and although the animals did not seem to mind their presence at that distance, but continued browsing, yet the moment any one of the four endeavoured to get nearer, the herd, as if mechanically, moved off, and still kept a width of four hundred yards between themselves and the stalkers. the hunters now began to stalk in earnest, crouching from hill to hill. it was to no purpose. none of the four could get within shot. they separated and took different sides. the same result followed--a failure. although the herd kept on, and always in the same general direction, they seemed instinctively to avoid whatever ant-heap a hunter had chosen, giving it a "wide berth" which carried them beyond the reach even of groot willem's roer! after two hours spent in this fruitless kind of hunting, the plan was abandoned. the "stalk" would not do; and hans and arend were now sneered and laughed at by hendrik and groot willem. "what could _they_ know about hunting? ha! ha! ha!" chapter twenty seven. driving the blesboks. all now returned to their horses. groot willem's plan was next to be tried. they mounted. klaas and jan were permitted to take part in this affair. they would do well enough to "drive" the antelopes, while the other four would take stand, and receive them as they came up. all six rode off towards the herd, which, during the stalk, had moved several miles across the plain. when as near as they might safely go, without causing the animals to take the alarm, klaas and jan were sent to one side, while the stand-men took the other, going to their places by a wide circuit. of course their horses enabled them to get to their positions in a very little time. it was not necessary that these should be near the herd. as soon as they should conceal themselves behind the hills, klaas and jan were to drive the game up; and they were instructed to do so gently, and without causing the bucks to break into flight. the lads were hunters enough to manage that point. the four having got round to that side of the herd opposite to where the drivers had been sent, tied their bridles together, and, leaving their horses, walked towards the herd. they deployed from each other as they went, so as to cover a good stretch of the plain, and then each choosing an ant-hill, knelt down behind it. there could be no mistake now. the antelopes, driven by klaas and jan, would come their way; springboks certainly would; and then, "crack! crack!" would go the rifles, and "bang!" groot willem's roer. this gentleman was in particularly high glee. he had recommended this mode in opposition to hans and arend; but he did not mind that, for he had rather a contemptuous opinion of the hunter-craft of these two "yagers;" but what he thought of was, that hendrik had opposed it, and should it prove successful after that opposition, it would be a feather in groot willem's _hat_. that it would succeed he had little doubt. they were all nicely placed. the two boys had got round to the opposite side of the herd, and once these showed themselves a little nearer, the antelopes would face round--they were browsing _towards_ the side to which the boys had been sent--and feed in the direction of the concealed hunters. springboks would do so, said groot willem to himself. but springboks are not blesboks. they differ not only in size and colour, but in many of their habits; and just by a difference in one of these last was groot willem destined to disappointment. a curious habit they have--and one which is shared by a few other animals, both of the antelope and deer species--knocked all groot willem's fine calculations into "pie." instead of turning when klaas and jan approached them from the opposite side, as all expected they would do, the stubborn creatures would not be turned, but kept on most determinedly in their original course. it is true that they swerved a little to _get past_ the boys; but as soon as they were fairly beyond them, they headed once more in the same direction as before. klaas and jan were at some distance from each other, so as to make a wider front to the drive; but for all that, the blesboks swept past both at such a distance as to give no chance for a bullet, even though sent from the long roer. neither of the boys fired, as they had been told not to do; and as both behaved discreetly and quietly, the antelopes, after galloping some distance to their rear, slackened their pace, and again commenced browsing. groot willem felt considerably chagrined at the result, and got well laughed at by both hans and arend; but what annoyed him still more was a word or two uttered by the rival hunter. "i knew," said hendrik emphatically--"i knew it wouldn't do. do you take blesboks for sheep, to be driven about by a pair of boys mounted on ponies? bah!" this was a terrible cut for groot willem; but he replied to it by alleging that his plan had not had a fair trial. it was now plain to all that the blesboks _fed up wind_; and, therefore, the _stand-men_ should have headed them instead of the _drivers_. "let us try it that way. i'll warrant you we'll succeed. if we don't, then we can do as _master_ hendrik recommends; and we'll see how _his_ plan, which is no plan at all, may answer." there was a slight touch of sarcasm in groot willem's tone when he referred to hendrik, and the emphasis on the "master," partook strongly of the character of a sneer counter to _his_ which hendrik had given. there could be no objection to try the thing over again, according to the mode suggested by groot willem; and they all assented to his proposal. it _was_ plain that the blesboks ran in the "wind's eye," else they never would have "run the gauntlet" against klaas and jan, as they had done. such being the case, the hunters, by laying in wait to windward, would have a decided advantage, and, properly placed, could not fail to reach some of the advancing herd. should the scheme turn out differently, then they could follow hendrik's advice, and ride _tail-on-end_ upon the blesboks. with these ideas, the four galloped away to one side, and, making a wide _detour_, headed the game. klaas and jan were left in the rear to follow it up, and force it gently forward. in good time the stand-men were again placed, and watched the advancing antelopes with interest. the "blaze" upon their faces appeared larger and larger, and their broad, white muzzles gleamed in the eyes of the hunters, almost within range of their guns. but at this moment, the animals raised their graceful necks, uttered a strange, snorting cry, and then, instead of turning to fly back, bounded right forward! surely they were coming within range, thought every one, as he knelt with ready firelock behind his sheltering mound. "good!" muttered groot willem to himself. "i'll turn the laugh upon the whole of them--that i shall." but groot willem was destined once more to a humiliating disappointment. as the blesboks came under the lee of each hill that covered a hunter, they suddenly swerved, and swept round him at such a distance as to render shooting at them a perfectly ridiculous thing. groot willem had levelled his roer for a chance shot, when he thought of the unpleasant consequences of a "miss;" and reluctantly bringing down his piece he permitted the blesboks to sweep past. in a few seconds the herd was far beyond the place where they had passed the hunters; but as no assault had been made upon them, and no gun fired, they quieted down after a while, and once more commenced browsing. hendrik was now the proud man of the hour. he would show them how the slow creatures could be galloped into. he would run half-a-dozen of them down before they could clear out of the plain. "come on!" all once again mounted their horses, and rode briskly towards the herd. when near, they moved more slowly and quietly, so as not to startle them. as soon as they had got within the usual distance of four hundred yards, the bucks moved forward; and then came the "view hilloa!" the dogs were let slip, the horses sprang forward, and the chase swept wildly over the plain. they had not galloped a mile, before hendrik discovered his mistake. both dogs and horses were distanced by the swift antelopes, and both lagged far behind. one by one the hunters fell into the rear, and drew up their foaming steeds; and in less than twenty minutes time, hendrik alone, and one or two of the best dogs, held on. hans and arend, believing that it was a hopeless chase for their horses, gave it up; and groot willem _did not wish to succeed_! of course, klaas and jan were with the hindmost; and they all sat in their saddles, watching first the purple backs of the bucks, and then the head and shoulders of hendrik disappearing among the distant ant-hills! chapter twenty eight. hendrik's hard gallop. on swept the blesboks over the level sward and on galloped hendrik after them--his horse and dogs running at their utmost speed. for all that, not a yard could either hunter or hounds gain upon the swift antelopes. there was no chance for either to "run cunning." there was no taking "a cut" upon the game. the blesboks made not the slightest double--swerved not a point from their course, but ran in a straight line, dead in the wind's eye. no advantage, therefore, was given by the pursued, or could be taken by the pursuers. it was a simple question of speed between horse, dogs, and game. the dogs gave up first. they broke down one after another, until only hendrik's favourite hound kept near. another mile's running, and he too was used up, and fell to the rear; and now hendrik galloped alone. for nearly ten miles he galloped, until the sweat streamed from his horse's flanks, and the froth from his lips, and still the blesboks scoured on before him at too great a distance to be reached by his rifle. on a fresh horse he could easily have overtaken them now, for they ran but slowly. perhaps he could have closed upon them as it was, but, with all his desire to do so, he was compelled to ride with caution. the burrows of the ant-eater lay in his path, and once or twice, as he was closing upon the game with good prospect of getting near, his horse had stumbled, and lost ground again. this gave the antelopes a decided advantage, as with light hoof they skimmed over these impediments without fear. and still hendrik was reluctant to pull up. he thought of the empty boasting he had made. he thought of the scornful laugh that would greet him on his return. he thought of groot willem! if he could only take back one hide--one pair of horns--all would be well. the laugh would be his. with such thoughts he had been urged forward, in this long and desperate ride. he began to despair of success. the blesboks seemed to run lightly as ever, while his horse sprang heavily under him. the noble brute must soon give up. hendrik at length felt for him, and would have drawn bridle; but while half-resolved to do so, he noticed a range of mountains directly in front of him. they appeared to extend across the plain transversely to his course, or rather two chains met in a sort of angle, quite closing up the plain in that direction. towards this angle the blesboks were directing their course! did they propose taking to the mountain? was the question put by hendrik to himself. if so, he might find an advantage there. they might come to a stop, and under cover of the rocks and bushes that grew upon the mountain-side, he might be able yet to stalk them. as hendrik reflected thus, his eyes wandered along the base of both ranges from the angle where they met to a good distance on each side. to his surprise he perceived that the bases of both ended in a precipitous cliff, with no apparent pass leading up! he was now close enough to see the cliff. not a break appeared along its whole line! hendrik was gratified with this discovery. he was driving the game into an angle, a very _trap_. they would be compelled to turn upon him, and out of such a thick mass, he could not fail to knock over one. one was all he wanted. his hopes returned, inspiring him with new vigour; and, uttering a word of encouragement to his horse, he pushed forward. his ride did not last much longer. another mile, and it was over. he had got within five hundred yards of the mountain foot, and less than half that distance from the bucks that still continued to run straight toward the angle of the cliffs. he was now quite sure of a shot. in less than a minute, the herd would be compelled either to stop, or turn back, and meet him in the teeth. it was time to get his rifle in readiness; and as he intended to fire into the thick mass, he took several small bullets from his pouch, and hastily dropped them into the barrel. he then looked to his percussion-cap, to make sure that all was right. it was so. the copper was properly adjusted on the nipple. he cocked his gun, and once more looked forward to the game. _not an antelope was in sight_! where were they? had they sprung up the mountain? impossible! the precipice could not be scaled? impossible! even had they done so, they would still have been seen upon the mountain face. they were not in sight, not one of them! the hunter reined up, his gun dropped back to the withers of his horse, his jaws fell, and for some moments he sat with parted lips, and eyes glaring in wonderment. had he been of a superstitious nature, he might have been troubled with some painful feelings at that moment. but he was not superstitious. although for a moment or two he could not feel otherwise than astonished at it, he knew there was some natural cause for the "sudden and mysterious disappearance" of the bucks. he did not pause long in doubt, but proceeded at once to the proper quarter for an explanation. the tracks of the herd guided him to that, and after riding three hundred yards further, the mystery was explained to his full and complete satisfaction. the angle, after all, was not an angle, for the apex was wanting. there _was_ a "thoroughfare" without the slightest obstruction. although at a short distance the converging cliffs appeared to impinge upon each other, there was an opening between them--a narrow pass that like an isthmus connected the plain over which the chase had gone, with another and very similar one that stretched away on the other side of the mountains. the blesboks must have known it well enough, else they would not have run so direct for the false angle in the cliffs. hendrik trotted up the pass to convince himself that it was no _cul-de-sac_. after going a few hundred yards, the isthmus widened again, and he saw to his chagrin the violet backs of the bucks far off upon the plain that stretched beyond. overcome with disappointment and chagrin, he flung himself from his saddle, and staggering a few paces, sat down upon a boulder of rock. he did not even stop to fasten his horse, but, dropping the bridle over his neck, left the froth-covered and panting steed to himself. chapter twenty nine. hendrik chased by the keitloa. hendrik's feelings at that moment were not to be envied. his reflections were sharply bitter. he felt mortified and humiliated. he wished he had never set eyes upon a blesbok. a sorry figure would he cut on his return to camp. he had laughed heartily at hans and arend. they would reciprocate that laugh, and add interest. he had ridiculed the idea of groot willem. groot would not fail to pay back his scorn. besides, he had done his horse no good; perhaps had injured the animal. there stood he, with steaming nostrils and heaving flanks, quite used up. they were nearly twelve miles from camp. he would scarce be able to carry his rider back, and hendrik even began to entertain doubts about his way. the thought that he might have lost himself was just entering his mind, when his reflections were interrupted by a sound that caused him to start up from that rock, as nimbly as he had ever risen from a seat in his life. the same sound seemed to produce a very similar effect upon his horse; for the latter, on hearing it, suddenly jerked up his drooping head, pricked his ears, snorted loudly, and, after dancing about a moment on two, shot off down the pass at full gallop! hendrik's eyes did not follow him, nor his thought neither. both were too busy with an animal that came from the opposite side, and which had uttered the sound that caused such a sudden alarm. the deep bass snort and the bellows-like blowing that followed, were no strangers to the ear of the young hunter. he knew that, on looking round, he would behold the black rhinoceros;--and he did so. that fierce creature was coming down the pass! at first sight hendrik was not so terribly alarmed. he had hunted the rhinoceros more than once, and did not deem it such dangerous sport. he had always been able to avoid the charges of the clumsy quadruped, and to escape out of its way when he desired. but hendrik for the moment had forgotten that on such occasions he was seated, not on a boulder of rock, but in the saddle, and it was to his horse that he owed his immunity from danger. now that his horse had run off, and he found himself afoot upon the plain, with nothing between him and the rhinoceros but twenty yards of smooth level turf, he became truly alarmed. and no wonder at it--his life was in danger. his first thought was to run up the rocks, thinking by so doing to get out of the animal's reach. but, on looking towards these, he perceived that they formed a precipice on both sides of the pass, with a wall-like face, that could only have been scaled by a cat! hendrik could not climb up on either side! in the pass itself there was no shelter for him. its bottom was a smooth sward, sloping but slightly. it was but the continuation of the outer plains, that were nearly on the same level. here and there stood a tree, but they were small ones--mere "brush," and a rhinoceros could have levelled any of them to the ground with his powerful horn. they offered no hope, either for concealment or retreat. there appeared no chance of escape in any way. to attempt it by running off would be perfectly useless; for hendrik knew that a rhinoceros could overtake the swiftest runner, as every south african hunter could testify. hendrik did not think of it. to add to his ill-fortune, he had left his gun strapped to the saddle, and that was now gone off with the horse; so that his chance of saving himself by the destruction of the rhinoceros was gone also. the only weapon left him was his hunting-knife; but what was a knife against the hide of a rhinoceros? it might as well have been a needle. there was but one hope of safety; and that was, that the animal might not _see_ him. the rhinoceros possesses the sense of sight only in a moderate degree. his eyes are small; and though sharp enough when an object is directly in front of him, they are so placed in his head, that, on account of his stiff neck and huge form, he can see nothing either behind or even at either side of him. hendrik had hopes the fierce brute would pass without observing him. from his movements it was evident he had not noticed him as yet, else he would already have charged upon him. the black rhinoceros does not wait to be provoked. his own fierce nature furnishes him with sufficient stimulus, and his fury is habitually directed against creatures the most innocent and unoffending. to get as far out of his way as possible, hendrik glided silently up to the cliff, and stood close against the rock. but if the rhinoceros is not a sharp-sighted animal he is one of the sharpest-scented that lives. with the wind in his favour, he can smell even a "rat" at an almost incredible distance. he is also gifted with a most acute sense of hearing; and the slightest sound, such as the rustling of a leaf or the falling of a footstep, will enable him to guide himself directly to his enemy or his victim. were the rhinoceros endowed with the power of vision to the same degree as he is with that of smell and hearing, he would be the most dangerous animal in the world. as it is, he is any thing but a safe neighbour, and many of the poor natives of the country he inhabits, fall victims to his ungovernable temper and brutal strength. fortunately his eyes are no bigger than they are. they were big enough, however, to see hendrik as he stood, his dark form outlined against the cliff, and sharp enough to distinguish him from the rock. the breeze, indeed, blowing in his spread nostrils, had warned him of the hunter's presence, and that had directed his eyes. as these rested upon the form of the boy, he stopped short in his track, uttered a snorting noise, vibrated his ears, and flirted his saucy little tail over his huge hips. then placing himself in a menacing attitude, and giving utterance to an angry blowing, he dashed forward upon hendrik as if the latter had been his enemy for life! hendrik's presence of mind was called for at this moment; and it came to his aid. had he kept his ground five seconds longer, he would have been crushed against the rock, or impaled upon the strong horn of the rhinoceros. but the moment the latter charged, the boy sprang out from the cliff. he did not attempt to run--that would not have saved him; and fortunately he knew it. he merely stepped out to the more open ground in the middle of the pass, and there stood fronting his assailant. the latter having seen the movement, swerved in his course, so as again to head direct for his intended victim; and without stopping, rushed forward as before. hendrik stood still, until the sharp black horn almost touched him. then bounding to one side, he glided past the rhinoceros, and ran in an opposite direction. he looked back as he ran; and seeing that the fierce brute had turned suddenly on the failure of his charge, and was close at his heels, he again made stand, confronting the animal as before. again he waited until the rhinoceros was close up, and repeated the manoeuvre of springing to one side and running behind. this hendrik had heard was the only way to escape the rhinoceros in open ground. had he sprung aside a moment too soon, that is, before the sudden bound enabled him to clear the field of the animal's vision, he would certainly have been followed and overtaken; for, unwieldy as the rhinoceros appears, it is nevertheless far more active than it looks, and the horse can barely get out of the way of its sudden and impetuous rush. hendrik had got two hundred yards down the pass before it turned again, but the distance was not enough. he was compelled to make stand for the third time, and await the terrible onset of his huge enemy. as before, he succeeded in getting to his rear, but the rhinoceros seemed to grow wiser, and now wheeled his body at shorter intervals, so that hendrik's chances of escape were growing less and less after each successive charge. in fact, he was kept dodging and leaping continuously from side to side. to have lost his footings or relaxed his vigilance for a moment, would have been certain and immediate destruction. hendrik began to despair. he was already panting for breath, with the perspiration flowing from every pore. his body ached with fatigue. his limbs began to fail him. he could not hold out much longer. there was no reason to believe the powerful brute would desist. it was child's play to him; and he had worked himself into a fearful rage at not being able to strike his victim after so many charges. hendrik began to think he was lost for ever. the thoughts of home, of father, of sister, and brothers, of wilhelmina--rushed across his mind; he would never see them more; he would be killed in that pass, and by the fierce dark monster that was pursuing him. they would never know what had become--ha! an ejaculation escaped from hendrik's lips as these sad thoughts coursed through his brain. it was an exclamation of joy. the struggle between him and the fierce animal had continued for more than a quarter of an hour, and had changed from place to place until they were now about the middle of the pass. hendrik's sudden exclamation had been caused, by his observing upon the cliffs a sort of ledge or platform about six feet from the ground. it was scarce that width, but it ran along the front of the cliff for a distance of several yards; and, as hendrik thought, at one end there was a sort of cave or cleft in the rocks. he scarce glanced at this, however; the platform itself was what interested him, and without another thought or look he grasped the edge of the rock and dragged himself up. the next moment he stood upon the shelf, and looked safely down upon the ferocious brute that was snorting in vain fury below! chapter thirty. hendrik in a state of siege. hendrik breathed freely, though he puffed and panted a long time after getting upon his perch. his mind was at ease, however, for he saw at once that the rhinoceros could not reach him. the most it could do was to get its ugly snout over the edge of the rock, and that only by raising itself upon its hind-legs. this it actually did, blowing with rage, and projecting its broad muzzle as close as it could to the feet of the hunter, as if to seize him with its elongated and prehensile lips. it did so only once. hendrik was as angry as the rhinoceros, and with juster cause; and now, feeling confident of the security of his position, he bent forward, and with all his might repeatedly kicked the thick lips of the brute with the heels of his heavy boots. the rhinoceros danced about, uttering cries of rage and pain; but, despite the brutal impetuosity of its nature, it no longer attempted to scale the cliff, but contented itself with rushing to and fro at its base, evidently determined to _lay siege_ to the hunter. hendrik had now time to contemplate this singular animal. to his surprise he perceived that it was a new species--that is, one he had never seen before, although he had heard of it. hendrik knew--for hans had told him long ago--that there were at least four species of the rhinoceros inhabiting the countries of south africa between the tropic and the cape, and that probably a fifth existed to the north of this line. of the four, two were _white_ rhinoceroses, and two _black_. the white ones were called respectively "kobaoba" and "muchocho," the black ones "borele" and "keitloa." the white species were both larger than the black ones, but of milder disposition. their food was principally grass, while the borele and keitloa browse upon the tender shoots and leaves of bushes. the white ones are "unicorns," that is, their anterior horn is largely developed--in the muchocho being sometimes three feet in length, and in the kobaoba still longer--while the posterior horn is simply a knob or bony protuberance. there are many other points of distinction between the white and black species, both in form, colour, and habits. now, as the one that had attacked hendrik was a _black_ rhinoceros, and was _not_ the borele--for this was the kind they had encountered while hunting the gnoo--it must be the keitloa. that it was not the borele hendrik saw by its horns. in the latter the front horn only is developed to any considerable length--never so long as in the white ones--whereas, like with them, the posterior horn is little more than a pointed knob, though longer or shorter in different individuals. now, the rhinoceros before hendrik's eyes had two thick strong horns upon its snout, each one being full fifteen inches in length, and of course nearly equal. the neck, too, was longer, and the lip more pointed and prehensile than in the borele for hendrik knew the latter well, as it is one of the most common animals upon the frontier. hendrik's assailant was the keitloa. although less is known of this species than either the muchocho or borele--because its district lies farther to the north--yet hendrik had heard something of its character from hans, as well as from old hunters. he had heard that it is even more fierce and dangerous than the borele and is more dreaded by the natives. in districts where it is common, the people fear it more than any other animal--not even excepting the lion or the grim buffalo! hendrik had heard this about the keitloa, and no longer wondered at its having attacked him in the savage and unprovoked manner it had done. he only thanked his stars that there existed that little ledge of rock upon which he now stood, and from which he could look down and contemplate those terrible horns with a feeling of complacency which, five minutes before, he had not enjoyed. he almost laughed at the odd situation he found himself in. "what a place for hans!" he said in soliloquy. "capital place for him to study the natural history of this clumsy brute!" at this moment, as if echoing his thoughts, the keitloa began to exhibit before him one of its peculiar habits. there stood a good-sized bush right in front, having a number of separate stems growing from one root, the whole forming a little clump of itself. against this bush the rhinoceros commenced battling,--now charging it from one side, now from another,--dashing at it headforemost, breaking the branches with his horns, and trampling them under his thick clumsy limbs--all the while, by his menacing look and movements, appearing as if he was fighting with some enemy in earnest! whether in earnest or not, he continued to go on in this way for more than half-an-hour, until every stem and branch were barked, broken, and crushed to mummy among his feet, and not till then did he desist from his furious attacks. the whole thing had such a ludicrous air about it that it recalled to hendrik's mind the story of don quixote and the windmill, and set him laughing outright. his merriment, however, was not of long duration, for he now began to perceive that the fury of the keitloa was as long-lived as it was terrible. the glances that the animal from time to time cast upon the hunter told the latter that he had to deal with an implacable enemy. as soon as the creature had finished its battle with the bush, it walked back towards the cliff, and stood with its head erect and its small lurid eyes gleaming upon the hunter. it appeared to know he was its prisoner, and had resolved upon keeping him there. its whole manner satisfied hendrik that such was its intention, and he began once more to feel uneasy about the result. when another hour had passed, and still the keitloa kept watching him from below, he became more than uneasy--he became alarmed. he had been suffering from thirst ever since they commenced hunting the blesbok--he was now almost choking. he would have given any thing for one cup of water. the hot sun--for it was yet only noon--scorched him as he stood against that bare burning rock. he suffered torture from heat as well as thirst. he suffered, too, from suspense. how long might his implacable sentinel keep watch upon him? until the keitloa should leave the spot, there was not the slightest hope of his escaping. to have returned to the plain would be certain death. it would have been death but for the timely proximity of that friendly rock. no hope to escape from its broiling surface so long as the fierce brute remained below. would hans and the others believe him lost, and follow upon his spoor? they might, but not till the next day. they would not think of him being lost before night came, as it was no unusual thing for one of them to be off alone from morning till night. how would he endure the terrible thirst that was raging within him? how would he suffer it until they should arrive? besides, it might rain during the night. his spoor would then be completely obliterated. they would not be able to follow it, and then, what might be his fate? these and many other reflections passed through his mind as he stood upon the ledge, regarding his fierce jailer with looks of anger and impatience. but the keitloa cared not for that. he still remained upon the ground, now pacing to and fro by the bottom of the cliff, and now standing still, with head erect, his small dark orbs scintillating with a look of untiring vengeance. chapter thirty one. a singular escape. as the moments passed, hendrik's thirst grew fiercer, and his impatience stronger. he had already examined the cliff above him--in hopes that he might have found a way by which it could be scaled. to no purpose did he look up. there were other ledges, it is true, but they were beyond his reach. the shelf he stood upon ran along the face of the cliff for many yards, but narrowed at both ends until it could be followed no farther. he had not moved from the spot where he ascended, as that was the broadest part, and where he was most out of reach of the elastic snout and long horns of the keitloa. he now remembered that, while battling about below, he had noticed a dark spot above the ledge, which he had conjectured to be the entrance of a cave, or a hole in the cliff. he had thought of it once again, but as creeping within a cave would not render him more secure than he was out on the rock, he had not gone towards it. now it occurred to him that he might examine the cave, and enter it if large enough to admit him. it would, at least, be pleasanter there, as he would be sheltered from the hot rays of the sun--an important consideration at that moment. but there was another consideration that influenced him still more; and that was, the thought that were he once _out of sight_ the rhinoceros _might forget him_. he knew that the old adage, "out of sight, out of mind," had a good deal of meaning when applied to the borele, the lion, and many other dangerous animals; and perhaps the proverb would also hold good of the keitloa--though what he had heard of this creature gave him very little ground to hope. at all events, he could test the thing. it would not cost much time to make the trial; and even should it prove of no service in that way, the change from his present stand upon the hot ledge for a seat within a cool cavern could not otherwise than better his condition. to the cave then! fixing his eye upon the keitloa, he commenced moving along the terrace, towards the point where he remembered having noticed the dark fissure in the cliff. the keitloa followed, keeping with him step for step; and apparently roused to fresh vigilance, as if it feared that its victim was about to attempt an escape. all the way it followed him; and as the ledge grew narrower, it became necessary for hendrik to proceed with great caution. not that he was in danger of falling from it, but rather of _being dragged_--for the rhinoceros, by standing on his hind-legs, was now able to stretch his broad muzzle above the edge of the rock, and to protrude his elastic snout across the ledge within a few inches of the wall beyond. it therefore required "gingerly" stepping on the part of hendrik. notwithstanding all the menacing efforts of his adversary, hendrik succeeded in reaching the entrance of the cave. it was a cavern deep and dark, with a mouth sufficiently large to admit the body of a man in a bent position. hendrik was about stooping to enter it, when a loud "purr" sounded in his ears that caused him to start erect again, as if some one had run a needle into his back! the "purr" was quickly followed by a "roar," so deep and terrible, that in his first moments of alarm, the hunter felt half inclined to leap to the ground, and risk the horns of the rhinoceros, which, at that instant, were gleaming above the ledge, within twenty inches of his feet! there was no mystery in what caused the alarm. there was no mistaking that roar for any other earthly sound. the cave was tenanted by a lion! the tenant did not remain much longer within his house. the roaring continued; and every moment sounded nearer and clearer. the huge claws caused a rattling among the dry pebbles that strewed the bottom of the cave. the lion was coming forth! with the nimbleness of a klipspringer, hendrik bounded to one side, and ran back along the ledge, looking fearfully behind him. this time he was not followed by the keitloa. the rhinoceros, whether terrified by the roar of the lion, or whether his attention was solely taken up by it, remained standing where he had taken up his position, with his head projected over the rock, and his snout pointed towards the entrance of the cavern. next moment the shaggy front of the lion filled the mouth of the cave, and the king of beasts and the "king of brutes" came face to face! for some moments they remained gazing at each other; but the eyes of the lion seemed to intimidate the keitloa, and the latter drew his head back, and dropped on all fours to the ground. perhaps he would have gone off from the spot without an encounter; but the ire of the dread monarch had been aroused by this intrusion upon his rest. for a moment he stood lashing his tawny sides with his tail; and then, crouching until his breast touched the rock, he launched himself out from the ledge, and came down with all the weight of his body upon the broad back of the keitloa! but, king as he was, he had mistaken the character of that "subject," if he thought he was going either to mangle him badly, or put him to flight. sharp as were his claws, and strong his arms to strike, they barely scratched the thick hard hide of the pachyderm; and although he tried to "fix" himself on the shoulders of the latter, he could not manage to stick. had it been a buffalo, or an antelope, or even the tall giraffe, he would have ridden it to death; but to ride a rhinoceros was a different affair; and he found it so. although he used both teeth and claws to keep him in the position he had taken, neither would serve him, and he was dismounted almost in an instant. the moment the keitloa felt the fierce rider on its back, it made a desperate rush outward from the rocks, and shaking its huge body like an earthquake, it cast the lion to the plain. the lion crouched as if again to spring; but the latter, suddenly turning upon his antagonist, stood face to face with him before he could effect his purpose. the rhinoceros did not pause a moment, but rushed on his antagonist with his horns set like couched lances. the weight of his body, with the impetuosity of the charge, would have driven those hard sharp weapons through the toughest skin that lion ever wore, and through his ribs as well. the lion seemed to be troubled with some such idea; for, instead of awaiting the onset of his enemy, he turned tail--the cowardly brute!--and made off up the pass, the keitloa chasing him as if he had been a cat! hendrik, all the while, had watched the combat from the ledge; but he never knew how it ended, or whether the rhinoceros overtook the lion or not. the moment he saw the two great brutes in full run _up_ the pass, he leaped from the ledge and ran _down_ it, with all the speed he could take out of his legs. on reaching the angle, he hesitated a moment which way to take--whether to follow back the spoor of the hunt, or the later tracks of his horse-- but at length he decided on following back his own spoor over the open plain. he ran along it as fast as he was able, looking over his shoulders at very short intervals, and still fearful that the great black body would show itself in his rear. he was agreeably disappointed, however. no keitloa followed in pursuit; and soon another agreeable fact came under his notice--he perceived that his horse had also gone back the same way. on rounding a clump of bushes some distance farther on, he saw the horse browsing a little way off upon the plain. the latter permitted himself to be caught; and hendrik, once more mounting to the saddle, pursued his way towards the camp. the spoor of the hunt guided him in a direct line; for the blesboks, it will be remembered, ran all the while to windward, thus following a straight course. hendrik had no difficulty in following the track; and, after two hours' riding, got back to camp, having picked up most of the dogs on his way back. hans and arend _did_ laugh at him. groot willem did _not_. the latter remembered how his rival had acted after his own tumble over the burrow of the aard-wolf; and now reciprocated hendrik's handsome behaviour on that occasion. groot willem and hendrik were likely to become great friends. chapter thirty two. a vast herd of antelopes. next day the young yagers were witnesses to a most extraordinary spectacle; and that was, a vast herd of blesboks,--so vast, that the plains appeared literally covered with their purple masses! this herd was not browsing, nor at rest, but scouring up against the wind--as those hunted the day before had done--and evidently running as if some dreaded enemy in their rear had given them an alarm. the mass of bodies was nearly half a mile in width; but it would have been difficult to estimate its length, as it continued to pass before the eyes of the yagers for more than an hour! on the animals poured, sometimes running in line, and sometimes the hindmost leaping over those that preceded them, moving like an impetuous torrent. all of them ran with necks extended forward, their noses close to the ground, like hounds running upon the scent! here and there they were closely packed in dense masses, while in the intervals between, the bucks were thinly interspersed; and now and then were wide breaks, like an army marching in column. the cause of these openings was simply that the immense drove consisted of a great many separate herds, all running by one impulse; for it is a curious habit of the blesboks and bonteboks, that when one herd becomes alarmed, all the other herds that chance to be in the same plains with this one, both to windward and leeward of it, start off in succession; and as all, from their habit of running up the wind, must follow the same direction, a constant drove, or rather a continuous succession of droves is formed, and passes in open column before the spectator who may be on either flank. the wonderful spectacle of so many living creatures, running together in such countless numbers, brought to mind the accounts, which the young yagers had read, of the migrations of the buffalo on the prairies of america, and also those of the passenger-pigeon. of course, the resemblance to the "trek-boken" of their own springboks, which all of them had witnessed, was also remembered. on this day our hunters were more successful than upon the preceding. they had learnt by their experience of yesterday how to "jag" the blesbok. instead of attempting either to "stalk" or "head" them, they found that the best plan was to ride along the flanks of the running herd, and now and again dash near enough to fire into the thick of them. the blesboks, while moving to windward, will permit the hunter to get within three or four hundred yards of their flank; and the mounted hunter, keeping his horse fresh, can now and then gallop within shooting distance before the moving mass can turn out of its course. firing among a flock in this aimless way, the bullet is not always sure of a victim, but now and then a buck fells to the shot. practising this plan, the young yagers played upon the flanks of the great herd during the whole time of its flight to windward; but notwithstanding the continuous cracking of rifles, with now and then the louder detonation of groot willem's great elephant-gun, the slaughter was not very great. six only "bit the dust." but as in the six there chanced to be an equal number of bucks and does, the hunters were quite content. they were not "jaging" for the meat, but merely to get specimens of the horns and prettily-painted skins; and three of each were as many as they wanted. the hunt was soon over; and as their horses were pretty well "blown," the yagers returned at an early hour to camp, taking with them only the heads, horns, and skins of their game, with just enough of the venison to give them fresh steaks for a day or two. one peculiarity they remarked in skinning the blesboks--that the skins of these beautiful creatures exhaled a pleasant perfume--arising, no doubt, from the fragrant plants and herbage upon which the animals feed. the afternoon was spent in dressing the skins--by removing the fatty flesh that adheres to them--and they were then spread out to dry. under such a hot sun, a few hours was sufficient to render them dry enough to be carried on to the next camp, where they would be spread out for a longer period, and thoroughly prepared for packing in the wagons. hendrik and groot willem performed this service; but the preparing of the heads--a more scientific operation--was the work of hans assisted by arend. hans had his box of chemicals, consisting of arsenical soap and several other noted "preservers," which he had brought along for this special purpose; and by night, two pairs of heads, with the skin and horns attached, were thoroughly cleaned and mounted, and ready for nailing up to the wall. there was a buck and doe in each pair; one, of course, for the von blooms, and another for the mansion of the van wyks. the only difference between the horns of the _blaze-buck_ and the _blaze-doe_ is, that those of the latter are shorter, and more slender; while the skin of the doe is less vivid in its colouring, and smaller, as is also the body of the animal. the same remark applies to the kindred species--the bonteboks--of which brilliantly coloured creatures full sets of horns and skins were obtained the day after. on this occasion, the "stand and drive" recommended by groot willem had been tried again, and with great success; each of the four--hans, hendrik, arend, and groot himself--having shot his buck as the flock dashed up to their stands. indeed, hans, upon this occasion, had carried off the palm. his double-barrel, loaded with ball, had enabled him to knock over a couple of the "painted goats"--as bonteboks are sometimes styled--right and left. the explanation of their success in this hunt, and their failure when trying the same plan with the blesboks, is not found in any essential difference between the two species. their habits are almost the same. no. their success lay simply in the fact, that on the day when they jaged the bontebok, there was no wind--not a breath of air stirring. on this account the game were not only unable to run against the wind, but, keen as is their scent, they were not able to tell behind which ant-hill lay their concealed enemies. the consequence was, that klaas and jan were able to drive them right up to the ambushed hunters, who slew them without difficulty. the "stalk" would not have succeeded on such a day, for these antelopes trust far more to their nose than their eyes; moreover, a correct rifle-shot is very difficult to be obtained in the plains of the "zuur-veldt,"--as the _mirage_ is almost always upon them, and interferes with the aim. so strong is this mirage, that objects at a distance become quite distorted to the eye, and out of all proportion. a secretary bird stalking along looks as big as a man, and an ostrich attains the altitude of a church-steeple. even the colour of objects becomes changed; and travellers have mistaken a pair of tawny lions for the white tilts of their own wagons and have gone towards them, thinking they were riding into their camp! an awkward mistake, i should fancy. after having secured their specimens of the pied antelopes, the young yagers again broke up camp, and treked away across the plains of the "zuur-veldt." chapter thirty three. the lone mountain. it has been observed, that upon the plains of the zuur-veldt country, mountains of singular forms meet the eye of the traveller--cones, domes, square box-like masses with table tops; sharp ridges, like the roofs of gigantic houses; and some that pierce the heavens with pointed peaks like the steeples of churches! some, again, present a horizontal outline, like the parapet of a fortification, while square tower-like masses, rising above the general level, carry out the idea of some work of military architecture on a grand scale. our young yagers were very much interested in these mountain forms, so varied and fantastic. sometimes their route led them along the base of a precipice rising a thousand feet sheer above the plain, and trending for miles without a break, so that for miles no access could be had to the mountain that rose still higher above. sometimes they were compelled to trek along narrow ridges that sloped off on both sides, leaving scarce enough of level to run the wheels upon. then, again, they would be compelled to pass around some spur, that, shooting for miles out into the plain, barred their direct path. as they treked across one of the widest plains they had yet seen, a singularly formed mountain drew their attention. it could scarce be called a mountain, as its altitude above the plain could not have been more than seven or eight hundred feet; but its brown rocky surface gave it that character, and to have styled such a mass a hill would have been equally misnaming it. there were no "foothills," or inequalities near its base. the greensward of the level plain stretched away on every side--its verdant colour strongly contrasting with the dark brown granite of the mountain. the sides of this singular mountain sloped from base to summit as regularly as those of an egyptian pyramid; and at a distance it looked pyramidal, but on coming nearer its rounded form could be perceived. it was, in reality, an obtuse cone, perfect in all except the apex, and it was there that the peculiarity of this mountain lay. instead of ending at the apex, a steeple-like rock rose out of the summit some thirty feet higher, ending in a point that appeared from below as "sharp as a needle." it was this that had drawn the attention of the young yagers more particularly, as other mountains of conical form were common enough along their route; but this one, looking, as one of them observed, like an inverted funnel, differed from any they had yet seen. it was very conspicuous, thus standing isolated in the midst of the open plain, and contrasting so much in its colour with the green table upon which it appeared to rest. "let us go and explore it," proposed arend; "it isn't much out of our way. we can easily overtake these slow-going oxen again. what say ye all?" "let us go, by all means," said hans, who fancied that upon so odd-looking a mountain he might fall in with some new plant. "agreed!" cried all the others in a breath, for when hans proposed a thing it was usually assented to by his younger comrades. without further ado the whole six turned their horses' heads for the mountain, leaving the wagons to trek on across the plain, towards the point where they intended to encamp. when the riders first faced to the mountain, it appeared to be about a mile off, and all, except hans, believed that it was not more. hans maintained that it was _five_, and was unanimously contradicted. a discussion took place, hans standing alone--five to one against him. the idea of its being more than a mile was scouted. hans was ridiculed--laughed at--called blind. there was a little epitome of the world on that plain--a paraphrase upon a small scale of galileo and his contemporaries. and here let me counsel you, boy reader, ever to be cautious how you pronounce against ideas that may be put forth, because they chance to differ from those you already hold. half of what you have already learnt is erroneous, and much of it has been taught you with an evil intent. i do not refer to what has been taught you by your school instructor, who imparts knowledge to you with the best of motives. but the tyrants of the earth--both priests and princes--for long centuries have had the moulding of men's minds, and they have spared no labour to shape them to their own purposes. they have so well succeeded, that one half the _very proverbs_ by which conduct is guided, prove upon examination to be false and wicked. there is a peculiarity about the attainment of knowledge which assists wicked men in misleading their victims, and i would wish that all of you should know this peculiarity. i do not claim to be its discoverer, for others may have discovered it as well; but up to this hour i have met with no promulgation of it. it is this, that _every truth is overshadowed by a sophism, more like the truth than truth itself_. this law holds good throughout the whole extent of the moral, intellectual, and material world. i cannot pause here to illustrate the above statement--not even to explain it. but i hope the day is not distant, when you and i may converse upon such matters _face to face_. i hope you believe that i have helped you to some knowledge; but i now affirm, and in full seriousness, that, if you examine the statement i have thus emphatically made, and _study it to a full understanding_, you will have gained more knowledge in that one sentence than all i have hitherto written. you will find in it the key to most of the errors and misfortunes that afflict mankind. in that sentence you will also find a key to the difference of opinion that existed between hans and his five companions. none of the five were _thinkers_--they relied entirely on the evidence of their senses. a process of ratiocination never troubled the brain of any of the five. had they never before seen a straight rod plunged into crystal water, they would most certainly have believed that the rod was bent into an angle--ay, and have ridiculed any one who should have contradicted the _evidence of their senses_, just in the way they now ridiculed hans for asserting that an object was five miles off, when they _plainly saw_ it was only a fifth part of that distance. it certainly _appeared_ only a mile off--that is, to one who had been in the habit of measuring distances by the eye in the ordinary atmosphere of a lowland country. but hans knew they were now in a region elevated many thousand feet above the level of the sea. partly from books, and partly from his own observation, he had studied the nature of the atmosphere at that altitude; and he was acquainted with the optical illusions of which it is frequently the cause. he admitted that the mountain _looked_ near, even as near as a mile; but he held on to his original opinion. patient as was the young philosopher, the ridicule of his companions nettled him a little; and suddenly pulling up on the plain, he challenged them to a measurement. they all agreed to the proposal. they had no measuring chain--not even a yardstick. but they knew that hans could tell distances without one; and having consented that his measurement should be taken, they all rode back to the point where the discussion had commenced. how was hans going to manage it? by trigonometrical triangles, you will say. not a bit of it. he could have told the distance in that way if he had wished; but he had a simpler plan. hans did not carry a _viameter_, but a _viameter_ carried him! yes, in the stout steady-going cob which he rode, he had as perfect a viameter as ever was set to a wheel; and hans having once put his horse to the proper pace, could tell the distance passed over almost as correctly as if it had been traced by a chain! there was a certain rate of speed into which hans's horse, when left to himself, was sure to fall, and this speed was so many steps to the minute--the steps being of equal length. by either counting the steps, or noting the time, the exact distance could be obtained. hans had been in the habit of putting his horse to the proper pace for this very purpose, and could do so at a minute's warning. so, taking out his watch to regulate the speed by the moment hand, he started forward in a direct line for the mountain. all rode, after, without noise--so as not to disturb hans in his counting. but for that, they would have continued to gibe him a little. only for a short while, however; for, as they rode on, and the mountain did not appear to _come_ any nearer, their faces began to look very blank indeed. when they had ridden for a full half-hour, and the mountain _still looked a mile off_, hans had five very crest-fallen boys moving along in his rear. when they had ridden nearly another half-hour, and their horses' snouts almost touched the rocks of the mountain, none of the five was surprised to hear hans cry out in a loud firm voice:-- "just five miles and a quarter!" not a word was spoken. not one of the five ventured even a whisper of contradiction. hans did not laugh in his turn, but facing round simply said-- "_every truth is overshadowed by a sophism more like the truth than truth itself_!" chapter thirty four. the approach to the lone mountain. although from a distance the mountain had appeared of smooth outlines, now, that they gazed upward from its base, it presented quite a different aspect. loose boulders of rock, strewed thickly upon the slope, covered its sides up to the very summit, giving it the appearance of a gigantic "cairn," such as may be seen upon the tops of some of our own mountains. these, however, are the work of men, while that upon which our yagers gazed looked as though giants had erected it. among the loose stones there was yet a trace of vegetable life. plants of the cactus kind, and rare euphorbias, grow in the spaces between the rocks; and here and there stood a small tree, with spreading top and myrtle-like foliage, casting its shadow over the side of the mountain. the arborescent aloe was also seen, its coral-red spike appearing above the sharp edge of some huge boulder, and strongly contrasting with the dull grey of the rock. after contemplating the singular eminence for some minutes, it was proposed that they should all ascend to its summit. it appeared but a very short way. the path was not very steep. a ten minutes' climb would suffice. what a splendid view they should have from its top! it commanded a prospect of the country they were about to traverse for the next three days' journey at least. they might lay out their course from it, and by noting landmarks, avoid the detours of mountain-spurs and other obstacles. should they ascend it? yes. all of them desired to do so--some to enjoy the view; some for the fun of climbing; and klaas and jan because they had seen a large bird wheeling around the summit, which might be the king of birds--an eagle; and they wished to make a nearer acquaintance with his majesty. hans also had an interest in going up. he wanted to examine the vegetation of the mountain--that appeared to differ essentially from that of the surrounding plain--and particularly the myrtle-leaved tree already mentioned. so the voice for making the ascent was unanimous--_nemine dissentiente_. without further ado, they all dismounted--for it would have been impossible to have ridden up such a rock-strewed path--and secured their horses by tying their bridles together. this was their usual way when there was no tree to which they could make them fast. the mode answered well enough. the animals were well acquainted, and on friendly terms, so that they did not bite or kick one another; and with their noses all turned inward, no one of them could stray off without the consent of the other five, and this unanimity could never be obtained. even had five of them agreed to wander a bit, there was one that would have opposed such a conspiracy, and _pulled against it_ with all his might--one that would have remained loyal to his master; and that was hans's steady, sober-sided cob, that had been trained to wait wherever his rider left him. upon many a botanical excursion had he carried his master, and often had stood with no other fastening than the bridle thrown over his withers, while the botanist climbed the rocky steep, or dived into the thick bush, to pluck some rare plant or flower. leaving their horses, the party commenced the ascent. now their path lay between large masses of granite, and now passed over the tops of the rocks. it required them to use all their strength and agility; and although from below they fancied they would reach the summit in about five minutes time, they were sadly disappointed. there are few things more deceptive than the ascent of a mountain. it is usually more difficult than it appears, and a large allowance should be made in the calculation, both for time and labour. the philosopher hans knew this very well, and told the others that it would take them a full half-hour to get to the top. some of them were inclined to ridicule his assertion; but they remembered their late humiliating defeat, and remained silent--although they _thought_ five minutes would bring them to the very summit. at the end of five minutes they began to change their opinion; and when three times five had passed over, they found they were still but half-way up the slope! here they halted, and five minutes were spent in "puffing and blowing." hans had now an opportunity of examining the tree that so interested him, for they had stopped under the shade of one. it was not a large tree, nor could it be called a very handsome one; but for all that it proved to be of a most interesting character. it was much branched with small leaves, of a pale green colour, and in their general effect having a resemblance to the myrtles. its flowers, too, were small and inconspicuous. it chanced to be in flower at the time, and this enabled the botanist to determine its character. it belonged to the order _santalaceae_, or "sandal-woods;" and was a species of _santalum_, closely allied to the _santalum album_ of india, which yields the sandal-wood of commerce. they all knew what sandal-wood was, as they had seen various "knick-knacks" manufactured out of this famous wood; but they knew not whence it came, or what sort of tree produced it. hans, however, taking advantage of the halt, gave them this information:-- "the sandal-wood," he said, "is produced from a tree of the same genus as the one now above us. it grows in the mountainous parts of the malabar country, and also in the islands of the indian archipelago. it is a small tree, rarely growing to a foot in diameter. its wood, as you know, is highly prized on account of its agreeable fragrant smell; and because this fragrance not only keeps it from decaying, but also preserves any material, such as clothes, silk, and other articles that may be in contact with it, from insects or rust. in consequence of this quality of the sandal-wood, it is in great demand for making boxes, cabinets, and such articles of furniture; and, on account of its agreeable odour, it is also manufactured into fans and necklaces which command high prices. "the brahmins use it in their sacrifices to the god vishnu, to scent the oil employed in the ceremony." "are there not two kinds of sandal-wood?" inquired klaas. "sister wilhelmina has a box of it and a necklace, too. they were brought from india by uncle, but they are very different. the box is white, and the beads of the necklace are of a beautiful yellow colour--maybe they are dyed." "no," answered hans, "they are not dyed. there _are_ two kinds, white sandal-wood and the yellow sort, and it has been said that they were the produce of different trees. this is not the case, however. although there is more than one species of _santalum_ that produces the sandal-wood of commerce, the white and yellow kinds are taken from the same tree. the reason of the difference is, that towards the heart of the tree where the wood is older, and especially down near the root, the colour is of a deep yellow; whereas the young wood that lies outwardly is nearly white. the yellow part is harder, more fragrant, and, of course, more valuable. "when these trees are felled for their wood, the bark is at once stripped off and the trunk buried for nearly two months--which strengthens its odour, and renders it more agreeable." while hans was giving these interesting details, the others took out their knives; and each cutting a branch from the sandal-tree, applied it to his nose, and then tasted it. but, though they could perceive its fragrant smell, they found it perfectly insipid to the taste. hans said it was so with the _santalum album_ or true sandal-wood of india--that, notwithstanding its sweet perfume, it is quite tasteless. he further informed them that the name "sandal-wood" is not derived from the use to which the wood is sometimes put--that of making _sandals_. on the contrary, these derive their name from the wood itself. the true derivation of the word is from the persian "sandul," which signifies useful, in relation to the valuable qualities of the timber. the sandal-wood of the sandwich islands, added hans, is procured from two species different from _santalum album_. the yagers, having now rested a sufficient time, again faced up the mountain, and in fifteen minutes after stood upon its top. chapter thirty five. the little hyrax. it is not quite correct to say that they stood upon the summit. they had reached the top of the hill, but still above them rose the steeple-like rock which they had observed from the plain, and whose odd appearance had allured them to the spot. a singular rock it was, rising full thirty feet above the summit of the mountain. its sides were nearly vertical, but scored and seamed as if the rain had worn its surface into furrows. it gradually narrowed upward, until it ended in a point not four inches in diameter; but along its sides from top to bottom similar points stood up; so that the whole structure--if we may call it so--bore a strong resemblance to a gothic turret, rising in the midst of many others that stood out from its base and along its sides. it appeared inaccessible to any other creature than a cat, a monkey, or a winged bird; and of course not one of the party thought of such a thing as climbing it. that would have been a perilous undertaking. after they had satisfied themselves in gazing at this singular geological phenomenon, they commenced moving around its base to the opposite side. it was not so easy to get round it, as huge sharp boulders covered the whole scarp of the hill around its base, and they had either to mount over these, or push themselves through the narrow interstices between. before they had got quite round, however, an object came under their eyes that caused them to halt, and remain for some time in an attitude of observation. about half-way down the hill rested a rock of vast dimensions, whose sharp angular top rose higher than those around, and commanded the view of a broad space of the mountain-side. upon the top of this rock was perched a very large bird--full as large as a turkey-cock. its plumage was of a deep black colour, except over the back, where there was a patch as white as snow covering the shoulders. the feathers upon the legs reached to the very toes, and were of brown colour. the toes appearing beneath were of a bright yellow. the general outline of its form--the abrupt curving of the beak--the full-rounded tail--the strong broad wings, and the feathered legs looking as though the bird wore _trowsers_--were all characteristic points that told its species. "an eagle!" exclaimed the hunters as soon as they saw it. it was an eagle, and one of the largest of its kind. it was the great vulture-eagle of verreaux, (_aquila verreauxii_). this bird no doubt it was that klaas and jan had caught a glimpse of as they approached the mountain. it was scarce two hundred yards from the boys, and although they had been making a considerable noise while passing over the rocks, it had not heard them, and still sat without noticing their proximity. that would have been strange for a bird so shy as an eagle; but it was accounted for by the fact that its attention at the moment seemed to be taken up with something else. this was evident from the attitude in which it sat, or rather stood, with claws firmly clenched upon the edge of the rock, and neck stretched forward and downward. it was evidently eyeing some object below, in which it took a deep interest. its back was turned upon the hunters, and offered a fair mark; but it was far beyond point-blank range of any of their guns, except perhaps the roer. groot willem, however, might have reached it, but at such a distance and with so small a mark a bullet from the smooth bore would have been little better than a chance shot. groot willem was about to try it, however; but hans begged of him to hold his fire a little longer, so that they might watch the movements of the eagle--which, from its odd attitude, was evidently meditating to surprise some victim below. it was not long before the victim was also in sight--appearing suddenly upon a little terrace, some twenty or thirty yards farther down the mountain. it was a small quadruped, of a greyish brown colour, darker above, and of lighter tint beneath. it had the look of a rabbit, though considerably larger than one, thicker in the body, and without the long ears. it stood, moreover, not so high on its legs, and these appeared much bent as it walked. like the rabbit, its hair was of a thick woolly nature, though long scattered silky hairs rose above the general surface of its furry coat it was entirely without a tail; and the four claws of its fore feet were _not_ claws, but nails resembling little hoofs? on the hind-feet it had but three toes; the inside one of each ending in a regular claw. of course, these peculiarities were not noticed by the spectators at the moment, as the little quadruped was beyond the reach of such minute observation. they were communicated afterwards by hans, who knew the animal well. altogether it was by no means an interesting animal to look at externally; yet in its internal structure it was one of the most interesting upon the globe. in that small round woolly creature, timid as a mouse--now making abrupt runs across the little platform--now stopping short in its career, to nibble a leaf of some plant, or to look suspiciously around--in that insignificant quadruped the young yagers beheld a near relative of the big brutal rhinoceros! yes; though without any horn upon its snout, and without the naked skin--the teeth, the skull, the ribs, the hoof-like toes, the whole internal structure of the animal in question, prove it to be a rhinoceros!--a regular pachyderm! so says frederick cuvier. "what a wonderful triumph," said hans, "the closet naturalists have had in this discovery! `what a triumph of anatomy,' says m. cuvier, `that proves this supposed rodent to be a rhinoceros!' in my opinion it is rather a proof of the weakness of m. cuvier's anatomic theories; for here is a creature, with all the _teeth_ of a rhinoceros, and all the _manners_ of a rabbit! "instead of the bold brutal nature of the rhinoceros--rushing out without provocation, attacking and butting at whatever comes in its way--here we have a shy timid creature, that takes to flight on the slightest suspicion of danger, and seems to be frightened at its very shadow. why, it affords the most absolute proof of the uncertainty of the _teeth_ and _bones_ as a guide to the mode of life of any animal. in all animated nature a better illustration could not be found of the fallacy of m. cuvier's arguments than this same _hyrax_--for so the quadruped is called--and, despite the opinion of the celebrated french savant, i still believe the little creature to be more of a rabbit than a rhinoceros." so spoke hans von bloom. it was bold language for so young a naturalist! it is true there was much reason in his holding to the opinion that the hyrax is no pachyderm. its habits are so unlike those of the thick-skinned brutes--its mode of life so different from that of a rhinoceros. its habits are very simple, and can be told in a few words. it is gregarious; dwells upon the mountains, and in the most rocky places; makes its den in the crevices and caves that are found there, steals forth to eat or bask in the sun; runs timidly and with a shy suspicious look; feeds on grass and leaves of plants, and is fond of those of aromatic properties; can escape from most carnivorous quadrupeds, but is successfully preyed upon by birds, and especially by the vulture-eagle-- the species already described. such is the history of the "_daman_" or "_hyrax_," "dassie," "rock-badger," or "rock-rabbit"--by all of which names the creature has figured in books. it is one of those anomalies that cannot be classed with other quadrupeds, and has been constituted a genus of itself. two species are known, differing very slightly from each other. they are _hyrax syriacus_ and _capensis_, or the syrian and cape hyrax. one of the most interesting facts in relation to this quadruped is, that the syrian species is most probably the "coney" of the scriptures. in fact, the description can apply to no other existing animal. i have said that all this knowledge was obtained afterwards from the philosopher, hans. just then there was no time for such observations; for the hyrax, with two or three of its companions, had scarce appeared from the platform, when the eagle shot down from the rock, and swooped right into the midst of them. the boys heard the shrill cry of the little quadrupeds, as the shadowy wings covered them; and expected to see the eagle rise with one of them in its talons. they were disappointed, however, as well as the bird itself. the "rock-rabbits" had been too quick for their well-known and dreaded enemy; and before the eagle was able to put a claw into their wool, they had all scattered, and rushed within the safe shelter of their dark caves. of course, they were not coming out any more that afternoon. the eagle seemed to have this very idea; for, rising into the air with a scream of disappointment, it flew off towards the other side of the mountain. chapter thirty six. the klipspringers. in hopes of getting a shot at it on the wing, the boys crouched behind the boulders as it flew round, holding their guns in readiness. it passed them at too great a distance, and none of them fired. they expected to see it fly off, and wing its way towards the neighbouring mountains--as it could only be a stray visitor to the hill, some hungry old eagle out upon a hunt. it was about to do this; for it had already risen to a considerable elevation, and was heading away, when all at once it stopped suddenly in its flight, and balanced itself for some moments in the air, with neck bent downward, as if it had taken a fresh interest in some object that had just come under its eye below. had the rock-rabbits ventured forth again? no. it could not be they; for the eagle was hovering over a different quarter--quite the opposite side of the mountain. if rock-rabbits were in sight, they must be a different party. that was not improbable. there might be others upon the mountain. and yet the eagle would not hover above _them_ in that way. the habit of this species is not to "swoop" from on high, but to watch from a perch upon some neighbouring rock, and dash upon the hyrax, when it comes out to feed or bask--precisely as the boys had seen it do. so quick is the rock-rabbit in escaping to its retreat, that even an eagle, darting from a high elevation, would fail to clutch it. had there been rock-rabbits below, they would have perceived the great black bird above, and would have secured themselves at once. it could not be they that were now occupying the attention of the vulture-eagle. it was _not_ they. hans, who with his double-barrel had hoped to obtain a shot at the eagle, and had crept ahead of his companions to the other side of the tower-rock, saw that it was not rock-rabbits that had caused the eagle to pause in its flight, but some creatures of a very different character. about half-way down the slope grew a sandal-wood tree, one of the largest upon the mountain, with a full bushy top. directly, under this tree was a mass of tabular rock, with a smooth top, quite horizontal, and several yards in length and breadth. over this, and nearly covering its whole extent, the sandal-wood threw its protecting shadow; so that while the hot sun baked down upon the surrounding slope, the surface of the rock was kept shaded and cool. it was just such a spot as one would have chosen to have rested upon, commanding a far view of plains and picturesque mountains, and sweetly shaded from the burning noonday beams--just such a spot as the contemplative mind would have desired, and in which, freed from care, it could have delivered itself up to pleasant meditations. one cannot help fancying that many of god's wild creatures, in selecting their haunts and homes, have an eye to the picturesque. i can tell at a glance the cliff in which an eagle will make its eyrie, the glade that will be haunted by the stag or the fallow-deer, the tree under which he will repose, and oft times it has appeared to me that these favourite haunts are chosen by animals less for the security they afford, than for the picturesque beauty that surrounds them. one could hardly have fancied that lone wild mountain--that smooth table-rock--that fragrant sandal-wood tree--without some living thing placed there by nature to enjoy the scene, and give life to the picture--which would otherwise have been incomplete. it was not incomplete. it was crowned and perfect. the shade of the sandal-wood fell not in vain. upon the surface of the table-rock was a group of living creatures born to enjoy that wild and lovely scene-- created, as it were, to give a finish to the picture. there were three individuals in this group--three quadrupeds of a kind that had not been seen by the young yagers since the setting out of their expedition. though these animals wore a similar coat of hair, and were of the same yellowish olive colour, all three were of different sizes. the largest was scarce so tall as a pointer-dog, while the smallest was still less than a tiny young kid. the second was not half-way between the two, but nearly equal in size to the largest. the principal difference between the latter two lay in the fact that the large one had a pair of horns upon its head, which the other wanted. there were no horns neither upon their tiny little companion. for all this difference, the three were evidently of the same genus and species, nay, nearer relations still--of the same _family_. they were a family of _klipspringers_. hans knew at once it was the klipspringer, (_oreotragus saltatrix_), and so did all the others--for this interesting antelope is still found within the settled districts of the cape colony--wherever high inaccessible cliffs and rock-covered mountains afford it a secure retreat from dog, hunter, and hyena. among the many interesting forms of the antelope tribe, that present themselves in south africa, the klipspringer is not the least interesting. though a very small creature, and of no great value to the hunter, it differs so much in its haunts and habits from others of the antelope race, as to make it an object of curiosity, even where it is common and often seen. unlike the oryx, the gnoo, the hartebeest, the blesbok, the eland, and a host of others, the klipspringer never appears upon the plain. it is purely a mountain-dwelling animal, and the crag and cliff are its favourite haunts. there it is safe from the carnivorous beasts--the lion, the hyena, the wild-hounds, and the jackal--none of which can reach its secure retreat upon the ledges of the beetling precipice. even the leopard cannot follow it there-- notwithstanding his recurved claws that enable him to climb like a cat. on the steep cliffs, and along the dizzy heights, the klipspringer has no equal in south africa; he can scale them as no other quadruped; he fears no four-footed _beast_ of prey. three birds alone are his dangerous enemies--and these are the eagle of verreaux, the kaffir eagle, and the lammergeyer. the klipspringer stands about twenty inches in height is strongly and compactly built, with stouter limbs than the small antelopes of the plain. his horns are but four inches in length, rise vertically up from his head, and incline slightly forward. they are wrinkled at the base, and ringed in the middle. the hair that covers his body is long, wiry, and thickly placed upon the skin; and standing out upon end, gives the animal somewhat of a porcupine appearance. the colour is a nearly uniform yellowish olive, caused by the individual hairs being ash-coloured at the base, brown in the middle, and yellow at the tips. one of the most characteristic points about the klipspringer is the formation of its hoofs. these, instead of being long and pointed--as is the case with most antelopes--are cylindrical in form, and rest vertically upon their bases. they are jagged at the edges--so as to give the animal the power of adhering to the smoothest rock, without danger of slipping. like every piece of nature's handiwork, they are perfectly adapted to the use for which they are intended. the klipspringer is not gregarious; but is seen in pairs, or _families_, as they now appeared under the eyes of the young yagers. when hans first noticed them, they were in different attitudes. the buck was standing upon the rock looking out over the plain below, but had not as yet perceived the eagle--as the thick leafy top of the sandal-wood interposed between him and it. the doe was lying down; while, kneeling beside her, and drawing nourishment from her teats, was the little kidling. presently, the black shadow of the soaring bird passed over the greensward of the plain. it moved under the eyes of the buck, who, perceiving it, started suddenly, uttered a kind of hissing snort, and struck the rock with his hoof. this movement on his part brought the doe at once to her feet, as well as the little fawn; and all three stood in an attitude of observation, turning their eyes now upon the shadow below, and now glancing suspiciously above. after a moment they all commenced leaping about, though they still kept upon the rock. they saw the eagle, for it had now moved out some distance over the plain, so that the foliage of the tree was no longer interposed between it and them. it was just at this moment that the eagle had paused in its flight, and hung poised in the air. it had for the first time placed its eyes upon the klipspringers. in a moment the rapacious creature perceived the little fawn, cowering close behind the body of its mother; and without more ado, the bird directed its flight downward; and, when nearer, swooped straight at the group upon the rock. sudden as was the dash of the bird, it was a fruitless effort, and it rose again without having made a victim. but when the spectators looked for the antelopes, not one of the three remained upon the table, where they had stood the moment before! as quick as the flight of the bird, all three had sprung off from the rock, and thus escaped from its dreaded claws. one would have supposed that the klipspringers would have hid themselves in crevices, as the conies had done. not so. all three were seen--each standing conspicuously upon the top of a rock, and seeming to await the further action of the bird. with heads erect, and eyes turned upward, they stood, evidently expecting a renewal of the attack. the eagle, after hovering around and calculating its distance, swooped again. in this fresh attempt of the tyrant the little fawn alone was aimed at. had it been the others, they would have sprung out of reach as before; and so, too, did the fawn repeatedly, bounding from rock to rock, with the elasticity of an india-rubber ball. but the wily bird continued the attack, turning each time in shorter circles, until the tiny limbs of the youthful antelope trembled with weariness. during all this time the old ones leaped about, bounding high in the air, and descending upon the sharpest edges of the rocks, as if they had alighted from a flight with wings. the object of their movements evidently was to draw the attack of the eagle upon themselves, and thus save their offspring. it was to no purpose, however. the cunning ravisher preferred making a victim of the kid, and paid no attention to the manoeuvres of the old ones. no doubt, there were eaglets on the neighbouring mountain, and the tenderest venison was wanted for their dinner. at all events, the eagle continued to assail the poor little fawn, until the latter had no longer strength left to leap from the rock upon which it had taken its last stand. another dash made the eagle--a last and final swoop. its talons closed like a cramp upon the vertebrae of the tiny quadruped, which the next moment was borne aloft into the air! a shrill sad bleating was heard from below--drowned for an instant by the discharge of several guns, whose reports echoed like thunder from the rocks; and then the winged robber, with his victim still clutched in his talons, was seen falling with fluttering wings to the earth! the young yagers--by captain mayne reid chapter thirty seven. hunting the klipspringer. the eagle dropped not far from the summit; and the boys, running down to the spot, found it lying quite dead, with the little klipspringer--also dead of course--still fast in its claws. the talons sunk deeply into the flesh, embraced the spine, and even in death the fierce bird had not relaxed its hold! some would have considered the death of the eagle a just punishment; but, then, what was its crime? it is true, it had killed, and would have carried away, the little fawn of an innocent antelope--one of the most harmless of creatures. but what else could it have done? nature had taught it to sustain itself in this way. perhaps it had a nest on the brow of some beetling precipice--for this vulture-eagle of south africa is a dweller upon rocks, and not a _tree-eagle_--perhaps in this nest it had a pair of downy little eaglets, each with an appetite like that of an ostrich--perhaps they were expecting that very kid, or some similar dish, for dinner; and would have been very hungry without it-- might have died of hunger? what, then, could the parent bird do but provide them, though at the expense of other parents just as much attached to their offspring as an eagle could be? how can it be regarded as a crime? the eagle did not wantonly destroy the antelope, but to satisfy the cravings of hunger. it only obeyed one of the laws of nature. cruel laws they _do_ seem; yet, if they be crimes, nature herself is answerable. alas! we cannot comprehend, and, i fear, in this life never will comprehend, why we, the creatures of the earth, are born to prey upon one another. a puzzle to the humane heart is that "chain of destruction." wanton killing of animals _is_ a crime; and our hunters, at first sight, might be thought chargeable with this in having _wantonly_ shot down the eagle. such was not the case, however. they did not do so out of any feeling of wantonness. they had a proper object in shooting the bird. it was the representative of a rare and little-known species, and the possession of its skin for _scientific purposes_ had something to do with the fatal aim that brought it down--for it was from the double-barrel of the naturalist the shot was sent that destroyed it. by the act the klipspringers had been avenged, though there was little idea of giving them vengeance in the minds of the young hunters. quite the contrary; for in five minutes after, the whole six--buck-dogs and all--were in full chase after these creatures, as ready to rob them of their lives as they had been to take away that of their winged enemy. nor was it out of wantonness either, or the mere love of hunting, though that might have been the principal motive with one or two of the party. but there was a curiosity about these little antelopes, and a desire to examine them more closely, that urged the young yagers to attempt their destruction. they desired to possess their trophies. you may wonder why they should care about the horns of a klipspringer, since it is not one of the rare antelopes within the boundaries of the settlements! true, the animal itself is not rare; but it is a rare occurrence, when one falls before the bullet of the hunter--as the klipspringer is as shy and wary as the chamois itself--and, dwelling in the most inaccessible places, it is difficult game to capture. hence, the killing of a klipspringer is regarded in the light of a feat, and its little horns are by no means an ordinary trophy. the young yagers, therefore, wanted the pair belonging to the buck that was now leaping over the rocks below. some minutes were spent in deliberating as to what would be the best mode of getting possession of them. at the report of the guns both the klipspringers had gone farther down the mountains, and were now standing upon a large boulder near its base. hendrik proposed that the party should dash right down after them--dogs and all--and force them out into the plain, where, it was well known, they could make but a poor run, and would be easily overtaken by the buck-dogs. this plan seemed feasible. the antelopes were very near the base of the mountain. the hunters coming on them from above could easily drive them into the plain; and then there would be a run between them and the dogs, of which a fine view would be obtained. off started the whole party, directing their course straight down the mountain to the point where the klipspringers were seen. the dogs were set free, and sprang forward in advance. the hunters moved on as fast as the nature of the ground would permit them; and in ten minutes would have been near enough to the klipspringers to have fired, had the latter favoured them by remaining in their place. but they did not do so. of course, they had a full view of their enemies as they advanced; and before the hunters had got half-way down, the nimble game set off round the bottom of the hill, flitting from rock to rock like a brace of birds. what seemed odd in their mode of progressing was, that instead of running along the open spaces between the fragments of rock, they chose the rocks themselves for their path, and of these also the most prominent ones; so that their flight was a succession of bounds, some of them of enormous length! many of the boulders, on which they rested a moment, and from which they sprang again, were so narrow at the top, that the little creatures hardly obtained room for their feet; and, with their four hoofs touching each other, they would spring off as though moved, not by muscular power, but under the influence of some elastic force! at first the hunters believed their task to be an easy one. the mountain surface was of so limited an extent, they would soon surround the game, or force it out upon the plain. the first attempt to do so, however, had ended in a failure. the klipspringers had escaped without difficulty to the other side, and were now farther off than ever! the hunters called up the dogs, recrossed the summit, and once more set their eyes upon the game, perched as before upon prominent points. a second time the party advanced, spreading as they went down, and holding their guns in readiness; but long before they were within range, the klipspringers took to flight again; and, just as they had done before, passed around the base to the other side of the mountain. of course, the dogs, scrambling clumsily among the rocks, were, no match for such game as they; and even had the klipspringers been near enough for the guns, the most accomplished riflemen could not have "sighted" them, so quick were their motions. the only chance of the yagers lay in their shot-guns, and to have hit them, even with these, would have been a feat equal to the bringing down a snipe or woodcock. once more the boys attempted to drive them into the open plain; but with the same result as before. although the hunters had spread themselves across the mountain, the nimble game dashed past them, and escaped to the other side. groot willem now proposed a new plan. that was for all to descend the mountain to its base, and there make a complete surround of it. then each to march straight up, and, by hemming the game on all sides, _force them to the summit_. "in this way," added groot willem, "we'll at least have a crack at them; for if they try to get back through our line, they must pass near some of us." groot willem's suggestion was adopted. the yagers now descended to the base of the mountain; and, separating, spread around it at equal distances from one another. the buck-dogs were also distributed; one going with each hunter, except klaas, who had no dog to accompany him. since the affair with the blauw-bok, there had been only five in the pack. thus placed, the boys recommenced the ascent. they proceeded with proper caution, keeping each other in view, and shouting from time to time words of instruction as to the position of the game. these were seen bounding before them, from rock to rock--now crossing the mountain to the opposite side, with the intention of escaping in that way--now zigzagging along the sides, or bounding upward toward the summit. when the hunters had advanced about half-way up, the klipspringers became frightened in earnest. they saw that they were encompassed on every side; and sprang to and fro like a pair of grasshoppers. at length they seemed determined to run the gauntlet through the circle of hunters, and made a bold dash in the direction of hans. the naturalist, although not professing to be much of a hunter, was a capital shot; and, raising his double-barrel, he fired. the doe fell to the crack; and the buck, suddenly turning as on a pivot, once more bounded up the slope. the dogs had already gained a distance ahead of their masters, and now advanced upon the buck from all sides. there seemed no chance left him of avoiding their onset. he had mounted a boulder near the base of the tower-rock; and the five were rushing upon him with open jaws, and shining teeth, when, all at once, as if impelled by a spring, he shot upward to a narrow ledge of the vertical rock, far beyond their reach. the ledge was scarcely wide enough to have given footing to a weasel, and yet the klipspringer seemed to feel quite secure upon it. but he did not rest there. the shouts of the hunters, as they hurried up the mountain, impelled him farther; and springing to a still higher ledge, and to another still higher, he stood at length upon the pinnacle of the rock! a shout of surprise broke from the hunters as they witnessed this wonderful feat. and a singular spectacle it was. as already stated, the tower-rock ended in a point scarce four inches in diameter; and upon this stood the klipspringer, his hoofs pressed closely together, his neck drawn in, his body gathered into a ball, with the stiff wiry hair radiating on all sides outward, like the spines of a hedgehog--a curious object to look upon! although the hunters were now within shot, so odd did the creature appear thus placed that not one of them thought of drawing trigger upon it. they knew that they had the buck in their power--the dogs were all around him--and at such a height, full thirty feet from the ground, it could not escape. all therefore held their fire, and ran forward to the bottom of the tower. they had made a sad mistake about the powers of that klipspringer. as they were congratulating themselves on having trapped the buck in so odd a manner, he was seen to shoot out into the air, and, with a whizzing noise like that made by some great bird, he passed close to their ears, and lit upon the boulder from which he had bounded up! scarce an instant did he rest there, but sprang to another, and another, and in a few seconds was far down the side of the mountain! so sudden had been this movement on the part of the game, and so unexpected, that both dogs and hunters were taken by surprise, and not a shot was fired until the klipspringer was beyond reach! just at that moment, as they stood watching his retreat, a puff of smoke was noticed far down the mountain--a gun cracked at the same instant--and the buck was seen to tumble headlong from a rock! with fresh surprise the hunters turned to one another. "who?" exclaimed all simultaneously. ha! there were only five of them. one was missing! "it's klaas!" it was klaas beyond a doubt--klaas who had killed the klipspringer. klaas had given an illustration that the "race is not always to the swift." he was rather a heavy boy, was klaas; and feeling fatigued at so much climbing, had seated himself on a stone, and was taking a bit of a rest, when he observed the klipspringer, standing upon a rock right before his face. having his light fowling-piece loaded with buckshot, he had taken aim, and dropped the buck from his perch. jan was not a little jealous, and insinuated that it was a bit of "luck" not very well deserved; but whether it was luck or not, klaas had certainly killed the klipspringer, and was not a little elated at his performance. having collected the game, the young yagers proceeded to where they had left their horses; and, mounting, galloped off after the wagons that were moving slowly across the distant plain. chapter thirty eight. bold birds. on the third day after entering the plains of the "zuur-veldt," the yagers treked to the banks of a large river, and followed its course up-stream. the scenery was altogether new and of a different character to that of the plains. the river was fringed with reeds and willows, and beyond these stretched a wide bottom land of meadow-like character, studded with groves and copses of green trees whose foliage was grateful to the eye after the journey over the dry plains. here the deceitful mirage no longer tantalised them with prospects of verdant groves and smooth limpid lakes. both existed in reality; and a succession of lovely landscapes met the eyes of the travellers as they advanced. the grass upon the banks of this river was excellent, and in order that their cattle should have the opportunity of a good feed, the party formed camp at an early hour. they outspanned in a little meadow, directly by the edge of the water, and made a fire out of the stems of the willows that grew near. jan and klaas noticed a large flock of birds hovering above the water, and swooping about, something in the same manner as swallows on a summer evening over the surface of an english lake. they were birds of a moderate size, scarcely so big as a common pigeon-- nor was there any thing in their colour to make them attractive. they were rather a dull-coloured set of birds for africa, being reddish-brown, with a mixture of white and grey; but had they been near enough for the boys to have observed their feet and legs, these with the "cire" around their eyes, would have appeared of a beautiful orange-yellow colour. there was one peculiarity about these birds, which could be observed at a great distance, and that was their "forked" tails. in this respect they might also be said to resemble swallows, but the forking was far less acute than in the tails of the latter. there was enough of it to give the birds a character; and that, with their general form and the colour of their plumage, made it easy enough to tell to what genus the birds belonged. they were birds of the genus _falco_, (hawks,) belonging to that section of it distinguished as _milvus_, (the kites.) of the kites there are several species, but the particular one to which these before the eyes of klaas and jan belonged, was the "parasite kite," (_milvus ater_), an inhabitant of all parts of the continent of africa, and a bird somewhat smaller than the royal kite of europe. both these bird-boys knew that the birds were hawks of some kind, but they could not tell what sort. when hans told them that they were "kites," they both became doubly interested; and, guns in hand, stood near the water's edge watching the manoeuvres of the long-winged fork-tailed creatures. to a superficial observer it might have appeared that these kites were merely playing themselves; now poised and hovering in the air, now floating softly along, and at intervals shooting down until they "dipped" themselves in the water of the stream. any one, however, who had closely watched them for a time would soon have perceived, that they were not going through these manoeuvres for simple amusement. each time that one of them made a plunge into the water, it might be observed that in rising again, it carried a shining object in its talons, which object was neither more nor less than a tiny little fish. fishing, then, was what the "parasites" were after; and not for amusement, as anglers do, but following it as a regular calling--in fact, following it for food. not that fish forms the only food of this species of lute. no; it will eat almost any thing,--little quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, and even carrion, upon a pinch. it is, however, very fond of fish; and, when it chances to reside in a country of waters, where fish are plenteous and easily procured, it follows the calling of a fisher pretty regularly. klaas and jan stood for some time expecting to get a shot; but as none of the birds came near enough, they at length gave up all hope, and laid aside their guns. shortly after, dinner was ready, and all the boys sat down upon the wagon-chests, and commenced eating. their dinner that day consisted of a very nice dish--that is, the flesh of the great south african bustard (_otis tarda_) or wild peacock, (wilde pauw,) as they themselves termed the bird. groot willem had that morning shot this fine game, at very long range, with his "roer;" and but for the far "carry" of his gun they would not have procured the bird--for the wild peacock is one of the shyest kinds of game-birds, and scarcely ever rests within shooting distance of any cover by which it may be approached. large as it is, it is esteemed the most delicate eating of south african birds, and almost equal to the wild turkey of america. now the young yagers had roasted this precious _morceau_, had carved it, and each was sitting with a piece in hand--one with a wing, another having the "drumstick," a third the "merrythought," a fourth the "pope's nose," and so on. of course they were in a high state of enjoyment over such "titbits." while engaged in this pleasant way, they were astonished to see the whole flock of kites come suddenly swooping over the camp. klaas and jan were the more astonished, since they had been for some half-hour vainly endeavouring to get within shot of these very birds. _now_ there would have been no difficulty about that, for the parasites not only came within shooting distance, but, actually and literally, flew _in the very faces_ of the boys! yes; they would swoop right up until within a few feet of the diners, then poise themselves upon their wings, spread out their tails, turn over on their backs, and execute sundry other eccentric manoeuvres that put the six yagers into fits of laughter. of course swartboy joined in the chorus, and even the grave kaffir grinned at the ludicrous spectacle. but it did not end here. after a while the birds grew bolder and bolder; at each swoop they came nearer; until at length several of them actually snatched pieces of the bustard's flesh out of the very hands of those that were eating it! verily did they illustrate the old adage of "many a slip between cup and lip." even the dogs were made victims of these bold little robbers, who swooped forward to their very muzzles, and snatched at the bones they were crunching. this curious scene continued for some time. it would have ended sooner, had the business been in the hands of klaas and jan. both these boys, at the first approach of the birds, had started up to get their guns, but they were withheld from using them by the others, and especially by hans--who was desirous of observing these curious little hawks with the eye of a naturalist. after a while the bird-boys were allowed to "blaze away;" and, what is still more singular, their repeated shots did not completely frighten off the parasites, though several were killed! even some that must have been wounded--since the feathers had been knocked out of them--returned again and again to hover above the camp, with eyes fixed eagerly upon the scraps of meat that had been left lying upon the chests! a little incident was yet to occur of a still more ludicrous character. hans had that day shot a pigeon of very beautiful plumage, which is peculiar to the interior of south africa, and whose wings and body are of a deep green colour. this species is somewhat rare, and hans was desirous of preserving the skin and having it mounted. after dinner, therefore, he had skinned it; and having thrown its flesh to the dogs, he was still at work upon the skin, taking out the brains. klaas and jan, satiated with sport, had desisted, and laid aside their guns--the consequence of which was that the parasites had returned in great numbers, and now exhibited as much effrontery as ever. all at once, one of them seeing hans engaged with the pigeon, and thinking no doubt that the body of the bird was still in its skin, made a sudden dash, drove its claw through the feathery mass, and carried off the skin in triumph! hans, whose eyes had been closely bent upon his work, saw nothing of the approach of the little winged robber; and for some moments believed that one of the boys, out of a "lark," had snatched the pigeon from his fingers. it was not until he looked around, and then up into the air, that he was aware of the real culprit; and although all rushed to their guns, the pigeon-skin could not be recovered--as the kite, on seizing it, rose high into the air, and then carried it off to the other side of the river! as not a bit of flesh remained in the skin, and as hans had succeeded in extracting even the brains, no doubt the parasite soon discovered that his _pigeon_ was no better than a "decoy!" chapter thirty nine. the waterbuck. the bank upon which the yagers had encamped was about five or six feet above the surface of the water, as it now stood. the bank on the opposite side also rose above the water level; but on both sides there was a break or declivity that sloped down into the channel. these breaks corresponded with each other. they were not natural gorges, but had evidently been made by heavy animals, such as rhinoceroses and others, that were in the habit of coming either to drink or ford the river at this point. the tracks of many kinds of animals could be distinguished leading down to the water or up into the meadow--so that the place was evidently a "drift," or crossing-place for the wild beasts of the country around. perhaps at night many would cross here, and hendrik and groot willem had resolved to watch that night and have a little moonlight sport. a moon--and a very fine moon--was expected; for the queen of the heavens was nearly in the full at the time, and the sky all that day had been without a cloud. but they were destined to enjoy a little sport before the moon arose-- even before the sun had gone down. while engaged around the wagons, their attention was attracted by a movement among the reeds on the opposite side of the river. there was also an open space on that side corresponding to the meadow in which they were encamped. around the opening grew a thick brake of tall reeds, interspersed with willows and other low trees. it was among these reeds that the movement was observed. presently a large animal came out of the covert, and stepped boldly forward into the open ground, where the short sward enabled them to see it from horn to hoof--for it was a creature with hoofs and horns-- without doubt an antelope. it was a species, however, which none of the party had ever seen before--an antelope of majestic form and elegant proportions. it stood nearly five feet in height by full nine in length, and its general colour was a greyish sepia brown. its face, however, was of a deeper brown around the bases of the horns and over the frontlet tinged with rufous. the lips and muzzle were white; a white patch marked the throat; a white streak was before each of the eyes; and a curious oval band of white encircled the tail. the hair over all the body was harsh, more resembling split whalebone than hair; but that which covered the neck was longer than the rest, and stood out all around like a mane on end. the horns were nearly three feet in length, and curved first upwards and then slightly inwards. they were closely ringed to within six inches of their tips, and of a whitish green colour. the tail of the animal was about eighteen inches in length with a tuft at its tip. the shape and set of the horns, the rigid hair that grew all around the throat and neck, and the elegant upright bearing of this antelope, enabled the naturalist hans to tell his companions to what species it belonged. it was the famed "waterbuck," (_aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_). i have said "famed" antelope, because the waterbuck is in reality one of the finest and most famous animals of the whole tribe. its name would seem to imply that it was a dweller in the water. such, however, is not the case. it is called waterbuck because it is never found far from the banks of a river or other water, in which it delights to plunge, and bathe itself during the hot sunshiny hours of the day. of course it is an excellent swimmer, and, indeed, such confidence has it in its powers of swimming, that when hunted or pursued by whatever enemy, it makes directly for the river and plunges in, no matter what depth may be the water. it is the habit of many species of deer to make for water when hunted, but with them the object is to throw the hounds off the scent, and having once crossed a river, they continue on through the woods. now the waterbuck does not leave the river for any great distance. it either swims downstream, or, having gone out on the opposite bank, returns to it, after making a short detour through the woods. it seems to regard the water as its haven of safety, and when overtaken usually stands at bay in the very middle of the stream. it loves to dwell along rivers where there are marshy banks covered with tall sedge and reeds; and at certain seasons of the year, when these are partially inundated, the waterbuck is rarely seen--as it then makes its haunt in the very heart of morasses which are impenetrable to the hunter. its long spreading hoofs enable it to pass with safety over marshy grounds, where other species of antelopes would be "mired" and destroyed. the waterbuck has been classed by naturalists with antelopes of the _aigocerine_, or goat-horned group; but it differs greatly, both in horns and habits, from any of these, and deserves to be ranked as an antelope _sui generis_. if it were established as a separate genus, it would not stand alone, since another "waterbuck"--evidently a second species--has been discovered by late explorers a little farther to the north, upon the shores of the lake ngami. the latter is termed by the natives the "leche," and in the shape of its horns, and most of its habits, it bears a decided generic resemblance to the _aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_. still a third species of waterbuck has turned up during the recent explorations to the afore-mentioned lake; but this, though in habit very similar to the others, differs widely in regard to its physical characteristics. its horns are of the spiral form, greatly resembling those of the koodoo, (_strepsiceros koodoo_), and naturalists are disposed to class it in the genus _tragelaphus_. its name among the natives is "nakong." the reason why none of our young hunters were _personally_ acquainted with the waterbuck was, that none of them had ever seen it before; and the reason why none of them had seen it was, because it is not found in any part of the country through which they had hitherto travelled. it is altogether a tropical or sub-tropical species, loves a warm climate, and does not range so far south as the cape settlements. it is possible that there may be other species by the rivers that run through the unknown interior of africa; for between that southern territory, which has been yet explored, and the great saara, there lie many strange countries, and many strange creatures, of which the geographer and the naturalist yet know nothing. so, my boy reader, if you should be desirous at any period of your life to achieve the reputation of a bruce, a park, a denham, a clapperton, or a lander, you need not fear the want of an opportunity. there is still enough of "unexplored africa" to employ adventurous spirits for perhaps a century to come. at all events the ardent naturalist will find plenty of new ground up to the new year's day of ! that i can safely guarantee. the young yagers--by captain mayne reid chapter forty. the ravenous reptile. all eyes were fixed upon the beautiful animal as it approached the river. with light majestic step it advanced to the bank, and without pausing walked down the slope. it had no fear of the water, and stepped into it without hesitation. the boys were in hopes that it intended to cross the river. on the opposite bank it was too distant for the a carry of their guns--even the elephant roer could not have sent a bullet to that side with any chance of hitting. should the antelope cross, however, the case would be different. it might then come within range of their pieces; and, to make sure, hendrik and groot willem had stolen under the cover of the reeds, and advanced nearer the crossing-place. they were doomed to disappointment, however. the waterbuck had no intention of crossing. it had come to drink; and having waded in knee-deep, it stopped, and dipped its muzzle into the water for that purpose. with disappointed looks the boys remained gazing upon it as it drank. now it chanced that close to the spot where the buck had entered the water there was a black log. it lay along the water in a direction parallel to the bank, and seemed to be floating--though only a small portion of it appeared above the surface. saturated with the water, as it must have been, its weight perhaps had thus partially immersed it. the boys had given no heed to this log. it was the half-decayed trunk of some tree--perhaps the black-barked acacia--that had been carried downstream during flood-time, and had made a lodgment in the little bay, where the path entered the water. of course to such an ordinary circumstance the boys gave no heed. neither did the waterbuck. ah! false security! better for the antelope had it heeded that log! better for it had it "looked before leaping," and carefully scrutinised that black-barked thing--for black though it was, it was not the log of any acacia. _that log was alive_! to the astonishment of all the boys, and no doubt to the far greater astonishment of the waterbuck, the dark object suddenly became endowed with motive power, and was seen to dart forward with the velocity of an arrow towards the spot where the animal was drinking. it was no longer a log, but a hideous reptile--a crocodile of gigantic dimensions! the boys expected to see the waterbuck rear back, and attempt to escape. no doubt so it would have done, had the crocodile missed its aim, but the latter had not missed. on the contrary, it had seized the muzzle of the antelope in its long gaunt jaws, and was proceeding to drag its victim under the water. there was a struggle not of long duration, but it was terrible while it lasted. the buck pranced, and plunged and spread his legs, and endeavoured to shake off his reptile assailant. several times he was brought to his knees; but being a powerful animal he recovered his legs again, and once nearly succeeded in drawing the crocodile out upon the bank. all the while, too, he kept striking forward with his sharp fore-hoofs; but desperate as were the hits he made, they produced no impression upon the harsh scaly coat of his amphibious antagonist. had the latter held him by any other part, he might have had some chance of escape; but seized as he had been by the very tip of his snout, his head was all the time kept close down to the water, and the awkward position rendered it impossible for him to make use of his horns--his principal weapons of defence. the crocodile was by no means one of the largest of his kind--else the struggle would have ended sooner. a very large one--that is, one of sixteen to twenty feet in length--can drag a buffalo bull under water, and a buffalo bull possesses four times the strength of a waterbuck. the one now seen was not over ten feet long; and the strong waterbuck might have been a full match for it, had it not been for the unfair hold which it had taken. in that, however, lay the advantage of the reptile, and it seemed to be aware of it, for from the first moment it never relaxed the "clutch" it had taken, but held on with its terrible teeth and strong jaws, closed like a clamp on the snout of its victim! now the crocodile was raised some feet out of the river, and the boys could see its ugly breast, and spread hand-like claws; now using its powerful tail as a fulcrum it would strike against the water, and then the head of the buck would be plunged below the surface, and held down for minutes at a time. of course during all this while the water was kept in commotion; and, what with the struggles of the quadruped and the lashing of the reptile's tail, a constant spray of froth and bubbles marked the scene of the strife. the conflict at length came to an end. the water-tyrant triumphed. the buck was dragged into the river beyond his depth; and although few quadrupeds could swim as well as he, once off his legs he was no longer a match for the amphibious saurian. his head and horns both disappeared beneath the surface--now and then the tail of the crocodile flapped upward, as it exerted itself to keep its victim under--and then both reptile and quadruped sank to the bottom of the river, and were seen no more! for some time the hunters remained watching the surface of the water. they saw the frothy bubbles floating over the spot--some of them reddish with the blood of the waterbuck--but the current soon carried them away, and the river glided past smooth and silent as if no such commotion had occurred in its waters. the hunters all returned to the wagons, and a conversation now occurred about crocodiles, in which congo took part. the kaffir had hunted upon the great river limpopo, which lay to the northeast of their present camp. he alleged that there crocodiles were very numerous, and some were seen of enormous dimensions, attaining to thirty feet in length, with bodies as thick as a rhinoceros; that such scenes, as that they had just witnessed, were of no uncommon occurrence there. he said that the larger crocodiles frequently attacked buffaloes, precisely as this one had done the waterbuck--that they lie in wait by the watering-places of these animals, and seizing them by the muzzle when they are drinking, drag them under water, and thus suffocate them. but congo related a still more curious habit of the crocodiles. he asserted that they never devour their prey until it becomes quite decomposed--that is, until it attains the condition of carrion. he stated that when a crocodile has killed a buffalo or any large animal, it always drags the carcass back to the shore, and, leaving it exposed to the action of the sun's rays, watches near it until the flesh has become _tainted to its taste_! the young yagers had heard of this before; but were not inclined to believe it, though congo now assured them of its truth--alleging that this habit of the crocodile was well known among the native hunters of the limpopo. notwithstanding the sneers of many naturalists, the simple savage was right, as the young yagers themselves were soon enabled to prove. i have said that when the crocodile and his victim disappeared below the surface, they were seen no more. that, however, was not strictly true. both of them were seen again, and in a very short while after--more than seen, indeed; for the crocodile was killed by a bullet from groot willem's roer; and upon venison steaks, cut from the buttocks of the waterbuck, both congo and swartboy--as well as the buck-dogs--made them a hearty supper. it was thus the thing came about. hans had entered into a dissertation about crocodiles in general. he was informing his companions of the number of new species of these creatures that had been lately discovered, and pointing out the great progress of natural science during the present half century; how the crocodiles were divided by modern naturalists into many genera, and that, including the caimans and alligators of america, and the gavials of asia, the whole crocodile family could not number less than two dozen living species, although but a few years ago it was supposed there were but three kinds in existence; how america possessed true crocodiles as well as alligators; how the number of species in america was greater than that of africa and asia taken together; how there were none of these great reptiles found either in europe or australasia; and, among other things, hans was pointing out the difficulty which existed in determining both the genera and species of all the _crocodilidae_. while the yagers were listening to these details, the kaffir, who had been squatted with his eyes bent upon the river, suddenly started from his crouching attitude, and pointed down to the bank, toward a small brake of reeds that grew out of the water. all eyes were turned in that direction, and it was perceived that some of the reeds were shaking about, as if a large creature was moving among them. the reeds were nodding about and bending downward in bunches, and breaking as if under some heavy pressure, and crackling as they broke. what could be causing such a commotion amongst them? it did not appear like the natural motion of any wild animal, for these glide about, even in their undisturbed haunts, in a stealthy and easy manner. there was something unusual going on among the reeds. what could it be? the young yagers were determined to find out; and for this purpose they drew near the margin of the reeds. they did not approach them openly, but crawled forward under cover of the grass and bushes, observing perfect silence, so as not to fright away whatever creature was causing the movement. fortunately the reed-culms did not grow so thickly as to obscure the view; and when near, it was possible to see a large object moving in their midst. and a large object _was_ seen--a large dark creature which was at once recognised as a crocodile. it might have been another crocodile, and not that which had just drowned the waterbuck; but the hunters were not left to conjecture on this point, for, while watching its movements, they now perceived the carcass of the waterbuck itself, which the huge reptile was dragging up among the reeds, evidently with the intention of raising it out of the water! for this purpose it was using its powerful jaws, as well as its snout, and strong forearms--now pulling the body along a bit, then pushing and rolling it over towards the bank. the boys watched these strange manoeuvres for some moments in silence; but groot willem had brought his gun with him, and choosing a moment when the huge saurian was resting a little, he aimed for the socket of its eyeball, and sent the big bullet of his roer crashing through its skull. the reptile plunged back into the river, and went to the bottom leaving the wave tinged with blood. presently it rose to the surface, struggling violently, and evidently in great agony. now it raised the fore-part of its hideous body quite out of the water; then its head went under, and its long tail was flouted into the air; then up came its head again, and so on, till at length its struggles ceased, and it sank to the bottom like a stone. no doubt it sank to rise no more. congo and swartboy rushed in among the reeds, and drawing out the waterbuck--somewhat lacerated by the teeth of its destroyer--dragged it in triumph to the camp. chapter forty one. the guinea-hens. although swartboy and congo supped upon the flesh of the waterbuck-- which is far from being a delicate venison--the boys had something better for supper. that was roast fowl, and a very dainty kind of it, quite equal to grouse or partridge. they all supped upon "guinea-hen." the guinea-fowl (_numida meleagris_) is a bird that has been long known, and is often mentioned in the works of ancient writers under the names _meleagris_ and _gallina numidica_. it is unnecessary to give a description of its appearance, as every one is acquainted with the beautiful pearly plumage of the bird, from which it has obtained the name of pearl-hen--among the germans perl-huhn, and among the spaniards "pintado," or spotted hen. the english name "guinea-hen" is in allusion to the country from which it has been chiefly obtained in modern times. the guinea-fowl is truly a native of africa--though it is now domesticated in almost every country in the world, and has become a common inhabitant of the farm-yard. in the united states of america, particularly in the southern states, where the climate exactly suits it, the guinea-hen, or "guinea-chicken," as the bird is there called, is a great favourite, both as a bird for the table and a layer of eggs; and certainly the flesh of the young pullet is much more delicate and savoury than that of the common fowl. in many of the west india islands, the guinea-hen, although introduced from africa, has become wild, and in the forests of jamaica it is hunted and shot like other game. in these islands the species propagates very rapidly; and where the birds become numerous they do great mischief to the crops of the planters. on this account they are often hunted, not to be served up at the table, but for the purpose of exterminating them as troublesome pests. throughout all africa, its native country, the guinea-fowl exists; but it is to be remarked that there is more than one species. the common guinea-fowl (_numida meleagris_) is the best known, and in its wild state differs very little from the domesticated variety. the latter, however, frequently varies in colour, and some are seen with very little of the blue tint upon their feathers and almost without spots. this, however, is the usual law of wild birds when produced under domestication, as ducks, turkeys, geese, and all the other pets of the farm, fully demonstrate. even when left to herself, nature often "sports" in this way, and we know of no bird or animal of which "albinos" may not be at some time observed. in addition to the common guinea-fowl, a second species is well known to exist in the southern parts of the african continent. this is the "crested guinea-fowl," (_numida cristata_). it is not quite so large as the common kind, and has other differences. it is of a darker blue colour, but spotted like its congener, each feather having from four to six spots upon it. the quills are yellowish brown, but the edges of the secondaries are of a pure white, which contrasts prettily with the dark colouring of the general plumage. but the most conspicuous difference between the two species is in the formation of the crown and cheeks. as is well known, over the bill of the common guinea-fowl rises a singular warty membrane like a casque, while two carunculated wattles hang from the lower mandible. both these appendages are wanting in the _numida cristata_; but in place of the hard casque, the head of this species is ornamented with a crest of loose hair-like feathers of a bluish-black, which adds very much to the elegant appearance of the bird. the guinea-hens are gregarious and sometimes immense flocks of them are seen together. they spend most of their time upon the ground, but they also take to trees when startled, and roost upon the branches. their food consists of seeds, berries, and soft slugs. while the boys were discussing what they should have for supper, a flock of these beautiful crested creatures came chattering across the open meadow in which was the camp. of course the shot-guns were immediately put in requisition, and several of the party got ready to go after them. now it is not so very easy to get a shot at the wild guinea-hens. they are no great flyers, and do not take to the wing when pursued, unless when close pressed by a dog or some other swift animal. but a man on foot is no match for them, as they run very swiftly where the ground is even. they are shy, moreover; and it is not without difficulty that a shot can be had. there is one way, however, of approaching them successfully. a dog should be set after them, precisely in the same manner as though they were rabbits, hares, or any other small quadrupeds. the dog of course being swift enough to overtake them, soon comes up, and the guinea-fowls are then forced to take wing. but, as they are greatly disinclined to a long flight, they soon settle down again, or, what is more likely, perch upon the branches of the nearest tree. the dog then runs up to the tree; and, if well-trained, will commence barking, and continue so till the sportsman approaches within shot. the birds upon the tree have no fear of the dog below--knowing very well that he cannot climb up to them--but, while their attention is occupied with him, they pay no heed to their more dangerous enemy the gunner, who can then easily approach within range, and take aim at his leisure. now this mode of hunting the guinea-fowl was well known to the young yagers; and as one of their dogs had been trained to it, they took him along, and commenced the pursuit with every confidence that they would eat roast fowl for supper. they were not disappointed. the birds were soon after sprung, and then treed; and the barking of the dog conducted the gunners to the spot where the game had taken roost, among the branches of some "cameel-doorn" trees near the bank of the river. several shots were obtained; and three brace and a half were brought into camp--enough to serve not only for supper, but also for breakfast on the following morning. it seemed to be quite a place for birds; for while there, many other species were observed by the young hunters. a great many curious plants grew in the neighbourhood, the seeds of which served many kinds for food; besides, from the proximity of the river many flies and other insects were produced, the prey of numerous shrikes and other birds of the family of _muscicapidae_. hans pointed out a very singular bird that was flying about the meadow, and was every now and then uttering a note that sounded like the word "edolio." from this note the bird derives its name, just as in england the "cuckoo" is named from its peculiar call, and in france "coucou." now the _edolio_ of south africa is also a cuckoo; and although differing from our cuckoo in some respects, it has a great resemblance to it in others. it has the same parasite peculiarity of depositing its eggs in the nests of other birds, and leaving them to be hatched there; and its other habits are very similar to those of the common cuckoo. but there are some very curious points in the history of the "edolio," which it does not share with its european congener. among the boors of south africa it is known as the "new year's day bird," (niuwe jaars vogel,) and these simple people ascribe to it some wonderful characteristics. they say that it appears only at the beginning of the year--whence the name "new year's day bird"--and that whenever it is hungry it commences to cry out, and then all the little birds in the immediate neighbourhood fly towards it, carrying food, which they give it to eat! now all the young yagers, as well as congo the kaffir and swartboy the bushman, were well acquainted with this story; and all, with the exception of hans, believed it to be true. hans, however, knew the explanation of the marvellous matter, and proceeded to give it to his companions. he stated that the bird known among the farmers as the _niuwe jaars vogel_, was no other than the young of the "edolio" (_cuculus serratus_)--though the farmers would not believe this, because, although full fledged, it differs a good deal from the parent birds both in size and colour, and is therefore taken for a distinct kind. that the mystery of its appearing always on the first day of the year, was scarce a fable after all, as it was _about_ that time that young edolios obtained their full feathers, and commenced flying about. that the further statement, of its crying out when hungry, was perfectly true; but that _all_ the small birds in the neighbourhood were summoned by its cry, was not correct, although _some_ would be, viz: the step-mother and father that had brought it into life; and that these having been often seen in the act of feeding the young edolio had given origin to the fable. this was certainly a very good explanation. hans further stated that a similar belief existed among the natives of india, in relation to the large-billed cuckoo, (_eudynamis orientalis_), and that the belief had a similar origin. "the edolio," continued hans, "like the cuckoo, deposits its eggs in the nest of many species of small birds; and that it places them there with its beak, and not in the ordinary way, has been satisfactorily determined by naturalists." chapter forty two. rooyebok. as our travellers advanced up-stream, the wide level plains became narrowed into mere stripes of meadow that lay along both sides of the river. on both sides, and not a great distance off, wood-covered mountains trended parallel to the course of the stream. sometimes their spurs approached very near to the banks--so as to divide the bottom land into a series of valleys, that rose like terraces one above the other. each of these was a separate plain, stretching from the river's bank to the rocky foot of the mountain. nearly every one of them was tenanted with game of one sort or another-- such as had already been met with on the route--but beyond killing enough to keep their larder supplied with fresh meat, our party did not make any stay to hunt here. the guide had informed them, that beyond the mountain where the river took its rise lay the country of the elephant, the buffalo, and the giraffe; and in hopes of reaching this long-expected land, the sight of a herd of springboks, or gnoos, or blauw-boks, or even elands, had little more interest for the young yagers than if it had been a drove of tame oxen. ascending into one of the upper valleys, however, they came suddenly in view of a herd of antelopes whose forms and colours distinguished them from any our hunters had yet met with. this at once decided them to halt the wagons, and prepare for a chase. that the animals seen were antelopes, there could be no mistake. they had all the grace and lightness of form peculiar to these creatures; besides, their horns were conspicuously characteristic. their appearance bespoke them to be true antelopes. they were large ones too--that is, of medium size--about as large as red deer; but of course small when compared with such species as the blauw-bok or the huge eland. each would have measured nearly three feet and a half in height--and even a little more, over the croup--for although there are some antelopes, such as those of the _acronotine_ group--the "hartebeest," "sassabye," and "bekr-el-wash"--that stand lower at the croup than the shoulders, the reverse is the case with other species; and those now before the eyes of our hunters possessed the latter characteristic. they stood high at the croup. none of the yagers had ever seen one of the kind before; and yet, the moment they came under view, both hendrik and groot willem cried out-- "rooyebok!" "how know you that they are rooyebok?" demanded hans. "from their colour, of course," replied the others. the colour of these antelopes was a deep fulvous red over the head, neck, and upper parts of the body; paler along the sides; and under the belly pure white. there were some black marks--such as a stripe of black down each buttock, and also along the upper part of the tail--but the general colour of the animals was bright red; hence their being taken for "rooyebok," or "red-bucks," by hendrik and groot willem. "the colour is not a good criterion," remarked hans. "they might as well have been `grysbok,' or `steinbok,' or `rooye rheebok,' for the matter of colour. i judge by the horns, however, that you are right in your guess. they _are_ rooyebok, or, as the bechuanas call them, `pallah,' and, as naturalists style them, _antilope melampus_." all looked at the horns as hans spoke, and saw that these were full twenty inches in length, and somewhat like those of the springbok, but more irregularly lyrate. the two nearly met at their tips, whereas at their middle they were full twelve inches apart. this was a characteristic by which they could easily be remembered, and it had enabled hans at once to pronounce upon the species. strange to say, there was but one pair of full-grown horns in the whole herd, for there was but one old buck, and the does of the pallah are hornless. a "herd" is hardly a proper term; for this species of antelope cannot be called gregarious. what our hunters saw before them was a _family_ of rooyeboks, consisting of the old male, his wives, and several young bucks and does--in all, only eleven in number. our hunters knew, from what they had heard, that the rooyebok is both a shy and swift antelope--difficult either to be approached or run down. it would be necessary, therefore, to adopt some plan of proceeding, else they would not succeed in getting one of them; and they had fixed their minds most covetously on the large knotted horns of the buck. they halted the wagons to await the result of the chase; though the oxen were not to be outspanned, unless it should prove successful. if so, they would camp upon the ground for the night--so as to enable them to dress the meat, and preserve the "trophies." with such resolves, they made ready to hunt the pallah. upon first coming in sight of the rooyebok, the hunters were upon the crest of a high ridge--one of the mountain-spurs, that divided the valley they had just traversed from that in which the red antelopes were feeding. from the eminence they occupied, they commanded a view of this valley to its farthest border, and could see its whole surface, except a small strip on the nearer side, which was hidden from them by the brow of the ridge on which they stood. around the sides of the valley there were trees and bushes; though these did not form a continued grove, but only grew in detached clumps and patches. all the central ground, where the pallahs were feeding, was open, and quite destitute of either bush or cover of any kind. between the bordering groves there was long grass; and, by the aid of this, a skilled hunter might have crept from one grove to another, without attracting the attention of the antelopes. it was decided, therefore, that hendrik and groot willem should steal round to the other end of the valley, keeping under cover of the thickets and grass. then the pallahs would be between two fires, as they must either go up or down the valley in trying to escape. on the right lay the steep mountain; on the left, the deep rapid river. they would not likely attempt to move off on either hand. so this design to intercept them was good enough. the horses were now tied to trees and left on the back of the ridge, while the hunters moved forward upon the brow that overhung the valley. they had not advanced far before that part of the valley hitherto unseen came under their eyes, and there, to their astonishment, another herd of animals appeared; not of antelopes--although, from their colour, they might have been mistaken for such. no--the short round heads, elongated bodies, thick massive limbs, and long tufted tails, told at a glance, that it was no herd of peaceful ruminants the hunters were gazing upon, but an assemblage of dreaded _carnivora_--a troop of lions! chapter forty three. four-footed hunters. there were twelve lions in the troop--old males, females, and whelps of different ages! a terrific spectacle to look upon, in any other way than through the bars of a cage, or out of a third story window. but our young yagers beheld them on an open plain, and at the dangerous proximity of three hundred yards! it is needless to say that a sudden stop was put to their advance, and that every one of the six was more or less alarmed. although they knew that, as a general rule, the lion will not attack man without provocation, it might be different where such a number were together. twelve lions would have made short work of them, one and all. no wonder the young hunters trembled at sight of such a troop, and so near; for the brow of the ridge, running abruptly down to the plain, was all that lay between them and the dreaded assemblage. a few bounds would have brought the lions to the spot on which they stood! after the first moments of surprise and alarm had passed, the yagers bethought themselves how to act. of course, the pallahs were driven completely out of their mind, and all ideas of a hunt given up. to have descended into that valley, would have been to have encountered twice their own number of lions: older hunters than they would have shied off from such an encounter. they did not think for a moment of going farther, nor, indeed, of any thing but retreating; and it cannot be said that they _thought_ of that, for it was the instinct of the moment. "back to our horses!" whispered they to one another, the moment they set their eyes on the lions; and, without staying to contemplate the fearful group, all six stole back; and, in less than two minutes' time, were seated in their saddles. their presence had not been discovered by the lions. two circumstances had favoured the boys, and prevented this. the ridge over which they were passing was covered with underwood, and the "bosch," reaching as high as their heads, had sheltered them from view. the other circumstance in their favour was that the wind was blowing _down_ the valley, and therefore, _from_ the lions and towards themselves. had it been otherwise, they would have been scented, and of course, discovered. still another circumstance--the hunters had been advancing in silence, on account of the design they had formed of stalking the pallahs. the lions, therefore, still remained ignorant of their proximity. once on horseback our party felt secure, and soon got over their little "flurry." each knew that the noble creature that carried him, could give any lion the heels. even the ponies of klaas and jan could run away from the fastest lion in africa. once mounted, all felt that the danger was over. the hunters, hendrik and groot willem, were not satisfied to retreat in this way. they were resolved on at least, having another "peep" at the dangerous game; and, therefore, prepared to return to their former point of observation, of course this time on horseback. hans also felt a similar inclination--from the desire to study a chapter of natural history--and arend would go out of curiosity. it was not deemed safe to take klaas or jan along; so these two youngsters were unceremoniously sent back to the wagons, that had been halted in the lower valley near the bottom of the hill. the other four rode slowly and silently forward, until they came once more in view of the valley, the herd of pallahs, and the troop of lions. the antelopes were still feeding quietly near the centre of the open ground. the lions were as yet on the ground, where they had been first observed. that the pallahs knew nothing of the proximity of their dangerous neighbours was very evident, else they would not have been moving so sedately along the sward. they had no suspicion that an enemy was near. the lions were in the lower end of the valley, and therefore to leeward of them--for the wind was blowing fair downstream, and came right in the faces of the hunters. a thicket, moreover, screened the lions from the eyes of the herd. it was equally evident that the beasts of prey were well aware of the presence of the rooyeboks. their actions proved this. at short intervals one trotted to the edge of the "bosch," in crouching attitude, looked out to the open plain, and after a moment or two returned to his companions, just as if he had been sent to "report." the old males and the lionesses stood in a thick clump, and seemed to be holding a consultation! the boys had not a doubt but that they were doing this very thing, and that the subject of their deliberation was the rooyebok herd. at length the "council" appeared to break up. the troop separated, each taking a different direction. some went along the bottom of the valley, while several were seen to proceed towards the mountain foot. when these last had reached the groves before mentioned, they turned upwards; and one after another were seen crouching from clump to clump, crawling along upon their bellies, as they passed through the long grass, and evidently trying to shelter themselves from the view of the pallahs. their object now became clear. they were proceeding to the upper end of the valley, with the design of driving the game upon those that had remained below--in fact, carrying out the identical plan which the hunters themselves had projected but the moment before! the boys marvelled at this singular coincidence; and as they sat in their saddles they could not help admiring the skill with which their _rivals_ were carrying out their own plan. those--three there were--that had gone skulking up the edge of the valley, were soon out of sight--hidden under the "bosch" that grew at the opposite end, and which they had been seen to enter. meanwhile, the other nine had spread themselves along the bottom of the valley, each taking station under cover of the bushes and long grass. the trap was now fairly set. for a few minutes no movement was observed on the part either of lions or pallahs. the former lay crouched and stealthily watching the herd-- the latter browsed peacefully along the sward, perfectly unconscious of the plot that was "thickening" around them. something at this moment seemed to render them suspicious. they appeared to suspect that there was danger threatening. the buck raised his head; looked around him; uttered a hiss, somewhat like the whistling of deer; and struck the ground a smart rap or two with his hoof. the others left off browsing, and several of them were seen to bound up into the air--after the very singular manner of springboks. no doubt they had scented the lions, now at the upper end of the valley--as the breeze from that quarter blew directly towards the herd. it was surely that; for after repeating his signal, the old buck himself sprang many feet into the air, and then stretched himself in full flight. the others of course followed, leaping up at intervals as they ran. as the lions had well calculated, the antelopes came directly down the valley, breast forward, upon their line. neither the wind nor any thing warned them of the dangerous ambuscade; and in a few short moments they were close to the patches of brushwood. then the nine huge cats were seen to spring out as if moved by one impulse, and launch themselves into the air. each had chosen a rooyebok, and nearly every one succeeded in bringing his victim to the earth. a single blow from the paw of their strong assailants was enough to stretch the poor antelopes on the plain, and put an end at once to their running and their lives. so sudden was the attack, and so short-lived the struggle, that in two seconds from the time the lions made their spring, each might be seen crouching over a dead pallah, with his paws and teeth buried in its flesh! three alone escaped, and ran back up the valley. but a new ambush awaited them there; and as they followed the path, that led through the thicket at the upper end, each became the prey of a lurking lion. not one of the beautiful antelopes, that but the moment before were bounding over the plain in all the pride and confidence of their speed, was able to break through the line of deadly enemies so cunningly drawn around them! the hunters remained for some minutes gazing upon the singular spectacle. hendrik and groot willem would have stolen forward, and sent a brace of bullets into a brace of lions; but hans would not hear of such a thing. he alleged that there was no time when these animals are more dangerous to attack, than just after they have killed their game and are drinking its blood. at such a moment they are extremely ferocious, and will follow with implacable vengeance any one who may disturb them. it would be more prudent, therefore, not to provoke such a powerful band, but to retire altogether from the spot. to these counsels of hans--backed by arend--the two hunters at length reluctantly yielded; and all four rode back to the wagons. arriving there, a consultation was held how they were to proceed. it would be a dangerous business to trek up the narrow valley guarded by such a troop. a ford was therefore sought for, and found at some distance below; and, having crossed their wagons, the travellers encamped on the opposite side--as it was too late to move farther that night. they had done well to go across the river, for during the whole night the fierce brutes were heard roaring terrifically upon the side where they had been observed. in fact, the place appeared to be a regular _den of lions_. chapter forty four. "widow-birds." they were only too glad to get off out of that neighbourhood, and at an early hour they inspanned and treked up the banks of the stream. just as on the other side, the road led through a succession of valleys, with groves of trees scattered over their surface; and as they proceeded, the mountain-spurs more frequently approached the banks, and at one or two places they found great difficulty in getting the wagons across the ridges. one of these was so steep, that for a while the travellers feared they would not be able to follow the stream any farther. the oxen refused to trek up the declivity, and neither whip nor jambok would force them forward. but congo knew of a plan by which they were at length induced to proceed; and both wagons arrived in safety at the top of the pass--not, however, until swartboy had clicked and shouted, and congo had screamed, till their throats were sore, and both had worn the voorslays of springbok skin from their long whips. congo's mode of making the oxen move forward was a very simple one; and consisted in his going ahead of them and smearing the rocks along the path with the "mest" of the oxen themselves--thus leading the animals to believe that other oxen had gone before them, and that therefore the passage must be practicable, since some of their own kind had already made it! this mode is often adopted by the trek-boors of southern africa, when they wish to drive up very precipitous places, where the oxen are afraid to go of themselves. the valley, which was reached after climbing through this difficult pass, was one of very small extent--not exceeding a couple of acres; and as the river had now become diminished to a mountain-stream, it was fordable at any point throughout the whole length of the little meadow in which the travellers encamped. at the head of this valley a ridge trended across the course of the stream through which the current had cleft a wide way; and the only road leading out above was along the channel of the river itself. fortunately, this channel was nearly dry, else they could have gone no farther in that direction. as it was, the pebbly bed of the stream could be traversed by wagons, and they would easily get through to wider plains that stretched beyond. they had halted for the night in this little valley, because there was excellent grass for their cattle; and as wood grew along the sides of the rocky hills, and clear cool water ran down the stream, they possessed all the three necessary requisites for a traveller's camp. it was a curious little place where they had outspanned. as already stated, the level ground was not over a couple of acres in extent, though it was nearly of circular form. through the very centre of it passed the stream, its bed being only a few feet below the general surface; and all around were the mountains, their precipitous sides rising like rocky walls to a height of several hundred feet, and completely enclosing the mountain within their embrace. there were no trees upon the surface of the meadow itself, but against the rocks grew many kinds; some of them hanging with their tops downward, and some stretching horizontally outwards. a few small shrubs alone, with some reeds, grew upon the edge of the stream; but these were low, and would not have concealed a man standing erect. in the centre of this natural amphitheatre the camp was formed--that is, the wagons were placed there. the horses and oxen were not fastened in any way, as it was supposed they would not care to stray out of the valley. there were three good reasons why they should not wander. first, because they were wearied with a long day's work, and one that had been particularly severe. secondly, the paths leading out were difficult to find. and thirdly, because both the grass and water there were of as good a quality as either horse or ox could have expected to meet with elsewhere. there was no reason, therefore, why any of them should go beyond the confines of the valley where the camp was situated. as usual, no sooner were klaas and jan fairly out of their saddles than they went bird's-nesting. several kinds of birds had been seen by them as they entered this secluded valley; and it was likely that some of their nests would be found at no great distance off. and some were found. upon the shrubs and reeds quite a colony of birds had made their habitations. they were small sparrow-looking birds, having nests of a kidney-shape, hollow in the inside, which was reached by little circular entrances, something like the nests of the common wren. the outside part was constructed of grass; while inside, the nests were lined with a soft substance resembling wool. this was the cottony down obtained from some plant that, no doubt, grew in that neighbourhood, but which the boys could not see anywhere around. now these little birds were already well known to the young yagers. they had met with them before; and all of them knew they were birds of the genus _ploceinae_, or weaver-birds. they knew, moreover, that there are not only many species of weaver-birds, but that there are also many _genera_, or rather _subgenera_, of them, differing from each other in size, colour, and habits, but all possessing the curious instinct of building nests of a very ingenious kind--in other words "weaving" them; from which circumstance they derive their trivial name. the nests of all the species differ from each other. some are constructed of a globe-shape; others like a chemist's retort; others of kidney-form; and still another kind of nest is that of the "social weaver-birds." these last unite in large numbers, and fill one great nest, or "hive," which often fills the whole top of a great acacia, looking like a haystack built among the branches of the tree. the little weavers observed by klaas and jan were of the genus _amadina_--the _amadina squamifrons_; and both the boys were glad at encountering some of their nests at that moment. not that they were at all curious to see the eggs, for they had examined them often before. no: that was not the reason. there was another and a different one. it was this: the inside lining of the nest of the amadina makes excellent wadding for shot-guns--quite equal to tow, and even better than the softest paper; and as both klaas and jan were out of wadding, they expected to replenish their stock by robbing the poor amadinas of their pretty nests. they would not have done so wantonly, for hans would not have permitted them; but, as hunters, they stood in real need of the article, and therefore they took it without remorse. simple as the thing was, they were compelled to unravel the nests before they could get at the soft material with which they were lined: and this unravelling was not done without some difficulty, for the outside work was woven together like the rods in a fine piece of basket-work. the entrance which the bird had left for its own passage in and out was so small, that the boys could not thrust their hands into it; and, what was singular, this entrance, whenever the bird was absent from the nest, was so closed up that it was difficult to find it! having obtained as much wadding as they required out of a pair of nests, the boys did not disturb any of the others; but permitting them to hang where they had found them, returned to the wagons. they had not been long there before their attention was attracted to another bird, and one of a rarer and more curious kind than the amadina. it did not differ much from the latter in point of size, but in the nature and colour of its plumage--which was most curious indeed. the bird which now occupied the attention, not only of klaas and jan, but of all the others, was about the size of a canary-bird; but its long tail-feathers, several times the length of its body, gave it the appearance of being much larger than it really was. its colour was of a very dark glossy brown, or nearly black, upon the head and over the upper parts of the body. around the neck was a collar of orange rufous, which grew paler upon the breast, ending in a buff tinge over the abdomen, lower parts of the body, and thighs. but it was in the tail-feathers that the peculiarity of this bird appeared. of these, two were immensely long, set vertically, or "edgeways," and curving far outward and downward. two others, much shorter, also stood out edgeways above the first. these were broadly webbed at their bases, being at their widest rail three inches across; while their tips, for the length of three inches more, were entirely without any feathery web, and looked like a pair of stiff hairy spines projecting outward. besides these two pairs of vertical feathers, there were four others on each side of the tail, nicely graduated one above the other, each being about a quarter of an inch shorter than the one immediately below it. all these tail-feathers were black. but one of these birds was seen by the boys at their camp; but they noticed that it was accompanied by another bird of a rusty brown and whitish colour, and with a tail of the ordinary kind. this companion was neither more nor less than the female; while the gaudy creature with the orange colour and long tail-plumes was the male. hans's knowledge was now brought into requisition, for the others had never seen this curious bird, and knew not to what species it belonged. hans told them it also was one of the weaver-birds; known among naturalists by the name _vidua_; among the french as "la veuve;" and among the english as "widow-bird." all of the party regarded this as a very singular name for the bird; and at once called upon the naturalist for an explanation of it. fortunately, hans was able to give them this; and that was more than the learned brisson--he who baptised it _vidua_ and _la veuve_--has been able to do. "brisson," said hans, "has named the little creature `widow-bird,' because he had heard that it was so called among the portuguese; and the french naturalist assigns as a reason that it was so called on account of its colour and long tail! such writers as monsieur brisson and monsieur buffon are never at a loss for reasons. now it so happens that neither its colour nor tail had any thing to do with the origin of its name `widow-bird,' which of itself is quite a misnomer. the portuguese, who first drew attention to this bird, called it `whidah' bird, from the fact that it was received by them from the kingdom of whidah in western africa. that is the way in which the bird has received its appellation." the whidah-bird, on account of its livery habits, but more from the singularity of its tail-plumes, is a great favourite as a pet: and is often seen in cages, where it hops from perch to perch without fear of constraint, and alternately depresses and elevates its long tail with great vivacity. it is usually fed upon grain and several kinds of herbs, and is exceedingly fond of bathing itself in water. it moults twice a year; and during one period the male loses the long plumes which distinguish him from his mate, and altogether becomes so changed in colour, that the sexes are not then very easily told apart. it is only during the breeding season that the cock whidah-bird attains his fine tail, and the orange and black colours of his plumage. there are two species of whidah-birds known to naturalists. the "paradise widow-bird" (_vidua paradisea_) is the one described above; and another which is called the "red-billed widow-bird," (_vidua erythrorhynca_). the latter is a smaller species, and differs from the other in the arrangement of the tail-feathers. its bill is of a deep red colour--whence the trivial name; and its plumage is of a bluish-black upon the upper parts of the body, with a white collar around the neck, white wing coverts, and whitish underneath. its habits, however, are precisely similar to those of the species _paradisea_; and both are found inhabiting the same countries, viz: western africa. the range of neither reaches as far southward as the cape colony, but one of the species extends to the countries northward of the great orange river, and is occasionally, though rarely, seen. on account of its rarity in these parts, the young yagers, and particularly the naturalist hans, were desirous of obtaining its skin; and for this purpose the shot-guns were levelled, and both the "widows" were ruthlessly brought down from their perch. chapter forty five. the pique-boeufs. of course hans, aided by the others, immediately set about skinning the widow-birds, with an eye to their being preserved. arend was his principal assistant, for arend was clever with his hands; and was, moreover, as good a taxidermist as hans himself. it never troubled arend to know the genus or species of a bird; but give him the bird itself, and he could strip off its skin and mount it without leaving a trace of a ruffled feather. while thus engaged, a noise fell upon the ears of the young yagers that caused all of them to start--hans and arend dropping the skins of the widow-birds, upon which they had been operating. the noise which produced this startling effect, was neither more nor less than the cry of a bird, and but a small bird at that. the note very much resembled the well-known call of the mistle-thrush or screech-cock, (_turdus viscivorus_). it was no louder, and the bird that uttered it was no bigger than this thrush; but for all that, the note produced a somewhat terrifying effect upon the yager camp. all of the party, both yagers and attendants, knew the cry well. even the buck-dogs sprang to their feet, and howled as it reached their ears; and the whole camp was suddenly in a commotion. now, my young reader, you will wonder why the cry of a bird, not bigger than a blackbird, could create terror in the minds of such courageous boys as our yagers; and you will naturally desire to know what sort of bird this was. i have said the boys all knew it, the attendants and the dogs. nay, more, the horses and oxen recognised that cry; and its effect on them was not less wonderful; for the moment it was heard, the horses tossed up their heads, snorted as if in terror, and commenced _stampeding_ over the ground. the oxen exhibited similar symptoms of affright. yes, horses, oxen, dogs, kaffir, bushman, and yagers, were all affected by the screech of that bird, as it pealed along the rocks, and echoed through the glen. all recognised in it the warning cry of the _pique-boeuf_! an account of this singular bird will explain the cause of the consternation which its note had thus suddenly produced. the "pique-boeuf" is about the size of a starling, of a greyish colour over the body, with short wings, and tail somewhat of a darker hue. its feet are formed for grasping, and its claws are hooked and compressed. the most remarkable part of the bird is its bill. this is of a quadrangular shape, the lower mandible much stronger than the upper one, and both swelling towards the tip, so as to resemble a forceps or pincers. the purpose of this formation will be seen, when we come to speak of the habits of the bird. these are, indeed, peculiar; and, by the laws of ornithology, stamp the pique-boeufs as a distinct genus of birds. a celebrated french ornithologist, and a true _field naturalist_ as well--le vaillant--thus describes the habits of these birds:-- "the bill of the pique-boeuf is fashioned as a pair of solid pincers, to facilitate the raising out of the hides of quadrupeds the larvae of the gadflies, which are there deposited and nourished. the species, therefore, anxiously seek out the herds of oxen, of buffaloes, of antelopes--of all the quadrupeds, in short, upon which these gadflies deposit their eggs. it is while steadied, by a strong gripe of the claws in the tough and hairy hide of these animals, that, with strong blows of the bill and powerful squeezes of the skin, at the place where the bird perceives an elevation, which indicates the presence of a maggot, he extracts it with effect. the animals, accustomed to the treatment, bear with the birds complacently, and apparently perceive the service which they render them, in freeing them from these true parasites, which live at the expense of their proper substance." now, there are many species of birds, as well as the pique-boeufs, that lead a very similar life, living principally upon the parasite insects that infest the bodies of the larger quadrupeds, both wild and tame. in america, the "cow-bunting" (_icterus pecoris_) is so termed from its habit of feeding upon the parasite insects of cattle; and among other animals it is a constant attendant upon the immense herds of buffaloes that roam over the great american prairies. other species of icterus also frequent the vast cattle-herds of the south american plains. the red-billed weaver-bird (_textor erythrorhynchus_) is equally the companion of the african buffalo; and any one who has visited an extensive sheep-pasture cannot fail to have observed the common starling perched upon the woolly backs of the sheep. the white-necked crow (_corvus albicollis_) is noted for similar practices, as well as several other species of _corvidae_ and _sturnidae_. all of these kinds, however--the white-necked crow excepted--content themselves with only taking away the parasites, which are attached to the skins of the animals, or such as live among the hair and wool--none of the aforesaid birds having in their bills the necessary strength for extracting the maggots which are lodged beneath. now, with the pique-boeufs, there is no difficulty about this. their peculiar beaks enable them to penetrate the toughest hides of the large quadrupeds; and although they also feed upon the ticks and other parasites that rest upon the surface, they prefer the larvae that lie beneath. hence, these birds are entitled to be regarded as distinct from any of the others; and naturalists have formed them into a separate genus--the genus _buphaga_, or "beef-eaters." it is scarcely necessary to point out the absurdity of this name, which seems to have been given from a misapprehension of the habits of the birds. the pique-boeuf is no beef-eater, but a "beef-picker," if you will, as the french phrase very properly expresses it. but m. brisson, who gave the name, seems very much to have resembled his more celebrated countryman--the great _closet naturalist_, buffon--in ascribing such habit to birds and animals as suited his fancy. _buphaga_ is the name given, and so let it stand. only two species have been yet observed. one is the _buphaga erythrorhyncha_, or red-billed beef-eater--so called from the colour of its beak, which is a beautiful coral-red--while the more common species already described has a yellow beak. the latter is the _buphaga africana_. both species are birds of africa--the "coral bill" (_bec corail_) being also a native of the island of madagascar. the "coral bill" is smaller than the _buphaga africana_, and somewhat different from it in colour. the tint of its plumage is more sombre. the upper parts, head and throat, are of an ash-brown, glazed, as it were, with bluish; and beneath, the bird is of a yellowish rust colour. its bill, also, is smaller and less powerful than that of its congener. the pique-boeufs are generally seen in company; but they never fly in large flocks. six or eight of them may usually be observed together. they are very wild shy birds, and it is difficult to approach within shooting distance of them. the only chance of getting near enough is to approach behind the body of an ox, or some other animal--using the latter as a stalking-horse, and driving it gently towards those beasts on whose back the birds may be perched. the gunner, by then showing himself suddenly, may obtain a shot at them on the wing. such are the habits of the pique-boeufs. but all this does not explain why it was that the screech of one of these birds had thrown the camp of the young yagers into such a state of excitement or alarm. the reason remains to be told. it was this:-- of all the quadrupeds to which the pique-boeufs attach themselves, there are none upon which they are such constant attendants as the rhinoceros. this animal is the victim of many parasitical insects--of ticks and larvae. his huge body and corrugated skin, of such vast extent, offer an ample field for such creatures, and consequently afford a supply of food to the pique-boeuf, which is unfailing. the rhinoceroses, therefore, of all the four species that inhabit south africa, are always attended by the beef-eaters, which, on this account, are known among hunters as "rhinoceros-birds." go where the rhinoceros will, the pique-boeufs follow him, perching upon his back, his head, or any other part of his body, and remaining there quite unconcernedly, as if they regarded that situation as their natural roosting-place and home. the rhinoceros himself never dreams of molesting them. on the contrary, he finds their presence extremely useful to him. not only do they give him ease, by destroying the insects that would otherwise annoy him, but in another sense they do him an essential service. they warn him of the approach of the hunter, or any other danger. the moment such appears, the rhinoceros, who himself may have been asleep, is instantly aroused by the harsh screeching of the birds, and put upon his guard. should their voices fail to awake him, these cunning sentinels will flutter around his head, and peck into his ears until they succeed in giving the alarm. with elephants and hippopotami they act in a similar manner; so that one of the difficulties to be encountered by the hunter in pursuit of these animals, is the vigilance of the little winged sentinel that thus keeps watch over their sleep! it was this curious habit, then--well known to every creature in the camp--that caused all hands to start up on hearing the screech of the pique-boeuf. the presence of the bird announced the proximity of the dangerous "rhinoster." chapter forty six. charged by "muchochos." all eyes were instantly turned in the direction whence came the "skreek" of the bird, and there, sure enough, were a brace of rhinoceroses of the biggest kind. they were just entering the little glen, through the gap before mentioned; and were coming down the channel of the river, plunging through the water as they walked knee-deep. the superior size of their bodies, as well as their colour, told they were white rhinoceroses; and the long horn upon the snout, pointing slightly backward instead of forward, showed they were of that species known among the natives as "muchocho," and among naturalists as _rhinoceros simus_. the other species of white rhinoceros is the "kobaoba," lately named _rhinoceros oswellii_; although in my opinion it should have been _rhinoceros cummingii_--since the great lion-hunter was not only the first to give any definite characteristics of this rare species, but more than any other man has he contributed to a knowledge of the south african _fauna_. the principal distinction between the kobaoba and muchocho is observed in the set and size of the horns. in neither species is the posterior horn any thing more than a conical knob of six or seven inches in length; but in each the anterior horn is very long--far exceeding that of the black rhinoceroses. in the kobaoba, this horn sometimes reaches to the enormous length of four feet, and even exceeds that measurement; while in the muchocho, three feet is the limit. in the former the horn projects forward, standing at an angle of forty-five degrees with the line of the snout; whereas that of the muchocho is erect, with a slight curve or sweep backwards. both species far exceed in size the two kinds of black rhinoceros, and are fully equal to their great asiatic congener--he with the curious shield-like skin, so well known in picture-books, museums, and zoological gardens. in other words, the white rhinoceroses of south africa are in point of magnitude, after the elephant, the largest quadrupeds in the world. in point of habits they differ altogether from the black species. they are grass-feeders, as the shape of their muzzle testifies; while the black kinds browse upon various kinds of shrubs and acacia thorns, and are furnished with a prehensile lip for the purpose of more easily grasping the twigs and branches. as has been elsewhere observed, in disposition the two kinds are also very different. the black rhinoceroses--both "borele" and "keitloa"-- are of an extremely vicious and malignant nature, and more dangerous even than the lion. they are swift of foot; and, but for their defective powers of vision, it would be a perilous thing to approach them. the white species, on the contrary, are slow, and less disposed to make an attack upon man. when these are wounded, or are accompanied by their young, the case is different. they then exhibit all the ferocity of their race; and many a native hunter has fallen a victim to the rage of both the kobaoba and muchocho. the flesh of the two last-named species is excellent eating--being almost as good as fresh pork. it is not so with the flesh of the black rhinoceros, which is strong, rancid, and bitter. now, knowing the general disposition of the "muchochos," and knowing also the delicate flesh which these animals afford to the hunter, our young yagers at seeing them lost all sense of alarm. they at once rushed to their guns, and commenced preparing to receive the advancing quadrupeds. had it been boreles or keitloas, they would have acted differently; and would, perhaps, have thought only of flying to their horses, or of ensconcing themselves in the wagons. of white rhinoceroses, however, they had no fear; and having armed themselves, they advanced boldly and openly to the conflict. by this time the muchochos had got fairly through the pass; and, climbing out of the river-channel, stood up on the grassy sward of the meadow. their naked bodies, thus fully exposed to view, appeared of enormous size. one, however, was much bigger than the other--in fact, quite as large as a female elephant--for it was full sixteen feet in length from the tip of its long blunt snout to the "whisk" upon the top of its short tail. but what caused astonishment to the advancing hunters was the fact, that instead of the two of these animals which they had already seen, three now appeared upon the bank. the third, however, was not larger than an ordinary hog; and, excepting that its snout wanted the characteristic horn, it might have passed for a miniature of the other two. small as it was, there was no mistaking it for any other animal than a rhinoceros; and its size as well as actions showed that it was the young, or "calf," of the two old ones, that were respectively its male and female parent. the hunters were delighted with this new discovery. the flesh of the young white rhinoceros is much more delicate and tender than that of the full-grown ones; and all of them, but particularly swartboy and congo, now indulged in the anticipation of a rare treat. no one thought of the increased danger of their thus attacking the rhinoceros in company with its young. that was forgotten in the hurry and excitement of the moment. the prudent hans alone had some misgivings; but carried away by the enthusiasm of his companions, he failed to make them known. in ten seconds afterwards a volley of reports rang through the little glen; and by that same volley a shower of bullets--varying in size from the large ounce-ball of the elephant-gun to the small pea of the rifle--was poured upon the muchochos. the only visible effect produced upon the animals was to cause them suddenly to change their gait, from the slow waddle at which they had been advancing, to a brisk rapid gallop, which was directed precisely toward the spot where the hunters were standing! at the same time the huge animals were heard to snort and blow like porpoises; and the sparkling of their small eyes, the quick lashing of their saucy tails, and the long horns set horizontally, showed that they were charging forward in the full bent of their fury. the "calf" followed in the rear, imitating the noise and actions of its ponderous parents. this to the hunters was a movement wholly unexpected. had it been borele or keitloa there would have been nothing strange in it. on the contrary, it was just as either of the black rhinoceroses would have acted. but from muchocho--usually so harmless as to be called cowardly and stupid--an attack of this nature was quite unlooked for. the report of a gun, or even the barking of a dog, will usually put the muchocho to flight. but our yagers had not reasoned correctly when they expected these either to fall to their shots, or take to instant flight. _they had forgotten the presence of the calf_. that it was which caused the white rhinoceroses to act upon this occasion contrary to their usual habit-- that, and perhaps the wounds they had received--for several of the bullets, although not fatal, had made painful wounds. so much the worse. of course, none of the young yagers stood their ground to receive this heavy charge. their guns were now empty, and it would have been of no use. on the contrary, each and every one of them turned instanter; and no mischievous urchin ever ran faster from a parish beadle than did all six of them towards the camp. the tails of their coats made a considerable angle with the line of their backs, as they "sloped" across the level sward of that little meadow. the short thick bushman and the tall lank kaffir--both of whom had gone forth to the attack--were not a bit behind in the retreat; and the whole eight were mingled together in such a helter-skelter pell-mell race, as had never before been witnessed in that silent and solitary glen. chapter forty seven. a ride upon a rhinoceros. fortunately for all they were not distant from their wagons when thus charged upon. they had advanced only a few paces before delivering their fire, and these few paces were all they had to run back, before they sprang up into the capacious vehicles. had it been otherwise--had the chase only lasted twenty yards farther--most undoubtedly one or more of the party would have been hoisted upon the horns of the pursuing animals, or trampled under their broad brutal hoofs. as it was, the hindmost of them had a narrow escape of it; for they had hardly taken shelter under the cap-tents of the wagons, when the horns of the muchochos were heard rattling against the planks. although they had fled to the wagons for want of a better place, they were far from feeling secure. they knew that these immense brutes, should they take it into their heads, could soon demolish the vehicles, strong as these were. what was their consternation, then, at seeing the old bull suddenly lower his head, and charge forward upon one of the wagons, in which several of them had taken refuge! the next moment was heard the terrible concussion--the horn of the muchocho struck the "buik plank," passing clear through it--the timber split from end to end--the "achter kist" was shivered to pieces, and the huge vehicle was lifted clear from the ground, and hoisted several feet out of its place! a simultaneous cry of alarm broke forth from the occupants of the wagon--which was continued as they saw the huge quadruped preparing to repeat the charge. at this crisis the faithful buck-dogs performed an essential service, and saved, not only the wagons, but perhaps also the lives of their masters. as the great bull was heading once more towards the wagon, several of the dogs attacked him from behind; two of them launched themselves upon his flanks, and one other springing upward, caught hold of his tail and hung on! now the tail of the rhinoceros is one of his tenderest bits; and this new and unexpected mode of assault quite disconcerted the old bull. instead, therefore, of following up his charge upon the wagon, he turned round as fast as his unwieldy body would permit, blowing with agony and rage. but the stanch hound still hung on, while the others kept biting at the bull's hind-legs; and vainly attempting to get at the dogs, the huge beast danced round and round like a kitten after its own tail--if a comparison may be allowed between two animals of such unequal magnitudes. this scene continued for some minutes, until at length the dogs were thrown off. one of them was crushed beneath the heavy feet of the rhinoceros, while another was badly ripped by the horn of the female. but the gallant brutes had performed their part well; and by means of their barking and biting, they had drawn the muchochos altogether away from the wagons, and into a different part of the meadow. it was not likely they would return to the attack upon the wagons, unless they chanced to be driven that way by the dogs--for the rhinoceros, partly from his low power of sight, and partly from his forgetful nature, rarely returns to assault any object once he has quitted it. but a new fear now sprang up in the minds of the young yagers--no longer for themselves, but for their horses! these animals, as already stated, along with the oxen, had been left grazing upon the meadow, without any fastening. when the muchochos first appeared, both oxen and horses had taken to flight. the oxen had gone toward the lower end of the meadow; and, guided by a cunning old leader, had set off upon their back trail over the ridge by which they had entered. the horses, on the contrary, had remained prancing around the wagons, until the muchochos came upon the spot; and, then dashing off together, had leaped the stream, and taken their stand trembling and cowering close by the cliffs on the opposite side. here they had remained during the early part of the fight between the dogs and muchochos. but in the course of this conflict both the dogs and their huge adversaries had worked up to the spot where the horses were, and once more set the latter in motion. seeing these, the rhinoceroses immediately started after them--perhaps deeming them antagonists more worthy of their horns; and now for some minutes a terrible melee of charging muchochos and galloping steeds filled the measure of the glen--the former blowing and snorting with rage, while the latter snorted with affright. fortunately, the small circumference within which this scene was enacted, enabled the hunters to use their pieces with effect; and whenever either of the rhinoceroses came to a stand, if but for a moment, the crack of a gun could be heard, and the thud of a bullet hitting against their thick hides. it is a mistake to suppose that a leaden bullet will not penetrate the skin of a rhinoceros. on the contrary, the hide, though thick, is comparatively soft, and yields easily to either a spear or a ball--so that every shot took effect. the hunters, _par excellence_, hendrik and groot willem, fired most of the shots, aiming behind the fore-shoulder for the heart and lungs--for in these parts the shot proves fatal. a bullet into the brain would have a like effect; but as the brain of the rhinoceros is exceedingly small in proportion to the size of the animal, it requires a sure aim to strike it; and the more certain way is to aim for the lungs. so aimed hendrik and groot willem; and what with the large leaden balls of the roer, and the small but better directed pellets of the rifle, both the muchochos were at length made to bite the dust. the calf was shot afterwards; for after the fall of its parents, the creature did not attempt to run away, but stood by the body of its mother, jerking its little tail about, and wondering what the trouble was all about. a very, ludicrous scene was now witnessed, that caused the young yagers to break into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. their laughter, however, did not come until after the incident was over which gave rise to it--for there was danger in the scene, and it was somewhat painful to witness it. it was as follows. the rhinoceros, like the american bison, when shot down by the hunter, rarely falls in the common way of other animals-- upon its side--but usually sinks down upon his breast, and there remains even after death has taken place. the two shot by hendrik and groot willem had offered no exception to the rule. both lay upon their bellies at a little distance from the wagons, their broad massive backs turned upward. now a practice equally common among bushmen, whenever a rhinoceros has been killed, is to leap upon the animal's back, thrust their spears into its flesh to try the depth, and discover whether the game be fat, and consequently valuable! in the carrying out of this custom, no sooner had the great bull rhinoceros sunk down under the shots, than our bushman, swartboy, seeing that all danger was over, leaped forth from the wagon, and running up to where the dead animal lay, sprang upon its back! shouting out a wild cry of triumph, he plunged his _assegai_ into the flesh of the muchocho to the depth of a foot or more. almost at the same instant, the animal, which was not yet dead, rose to its feet again, and charged once more across the sward, with the bushman upon its back! the shout of triumph, which swartboy had uttered, was suddenly interrupted, and cries of a far different import now rang through the glen; while the rhinoceros, no doubt impelled to fresh energy of life by the terrible pain he suffered from the bushman's spear, charged round and round, as though he had quite recovered! swartboy, on the other hand, dared not leap to the ground, lest he might be impaled upon the dread horns, but held fast to the spear, which, still buried in the animal's thick flesh, served him as a _point d'appui_! how swartboy would have been delivered, had the strength of the muchocho held out, it is hard to say; but this gave way at length, and the huge quadruped once more sank to the earth, pitching the bushman several yards over his head! swartboy did not lie long where he had been flung; but, sprawling up again, ran back at top speed to the wagons, where he was welcomed by yells of laughter! the oxen were soon overtaken and brought back, the calf of the muchocho regularly butchered, and that night the young yagers enjoyed a supper of "rhinoceros veal." chapter forty eight. jan and the koorhaans. the next camp of the young yagers was fixed in a beautiful valley very similar to that in which they had seen the troop of lions, but of larger extent, and having its whole surface enamelled with bright flowers. there were mountains all around, that seemed to shut in this fair picture and protect it from the hot dry winds of the desert. a river wound through its midst like a silvery serpent; and here and there upon the pools, where there was not much current, rested the wax-like leaves and flowers of the blue lily of south africa, (_nympha cerulea_), upon the plain grew trees and plants of various sorts peculiar to the botany of the country. the eyes of the travellers rested upon many a fair form. upon the banks of the stream they saw the drooping fronds of the chaldean willow; and by the foot of the mountain the splendid _acacia eburnea_, with its umbrella-shaped head, and clusters of golden flowers filling the air with their fragrance. they saw the valuable wax-berry, (_myrica cerifera_), yielding its clusters of white wax-coated fruit. they saw the perfumed "bead-bush," out of whose fragrant roots are shaped the beads held in such esteem among the savage belles of the land. they saw the "sugar-bush," (_protea mellifera_), with its large cup-shaped pink and white flowers,--the most beautiful of the tribe of _proteaceae_. there, too, were scarlet geraniums, with marigolds, and starry cape jessamines, forming a garden in the wilderness pleasant to the eye and fragrant to the sense. the songs of numerous birds fell upon the ear, and their brilliant plumage could be seen as they fluttered among the branches. the hum of bees, too, was heard; and thousands of these busy insects could be seen fluttering from flower to flower. it was still early when the party arrived in this delightful spot; but so pleased were all of them with the scene around that they determined to halt before the usual hour and encamp there for the night. so, choosing a pretty grove of willow-leafed "olean-wood" trees, that stood near the bank of the river, they outspanned under their shade. as they were wearied by their exertions in getting the oxen over some rocky ridges, all lay down to rest under the cool shadow of the olean-woods; and several of the boys went to sleep, lulled by the sweet voices of the birds, the humming of wild bees, and the rushing sound of the water as it passed over some rapids below. klaas and jan, however, had not gone to sleep with the rest, for neither had laid their shoulders to the wagon-wheels, and were, therefore, no more tired than usual. besides, there was something nigh at hand that would have kept both awake, even had they been a good deal fatigued, and that was the appearance of a pair of very odd-looking birds out upon the plain, at no great distance from the wagons, and that every now and then raised their black top-knots above the grass and uttered a cry something like the croak of a raven. these birds were not so very large--about the size of common fowls--but they were game-birds, having flesh of excellent flavour, and this rendered them interesting at the moment. they were, also, of very elegant forms--something of the tall majestic shape of the bustards. in fact, they were of a species that forms a sort of link between the bustards and grouse families; and are known in south africa as "koorhaans," and in india by the name of "floricans." but it was nothing of all this that rendered them so interesting to klaas and jan. it was that the latter knew a very curious method of capturing these very birds, and he was in a perfect fever to put it in practice right before the eyes of the rival bird-boy klaas. in fact, ever since the day that klaas had so distinguished himself by knocking over the klipspringer, jan had been burning for an opportunity to perform some feat of equal pretensions, but none had turned up. now that these birds--old acquaintances of jan's they were--had made their appearance, he saw a fair chance of gaining some renown. he would show klaas how to catch koorhaans in a proper manner--that he would. so said jan. jan was not long in having his triumph, which he obtained in the following manner. he first pulled some long hair from the tail of his pony, which he twisted into a large stout snare. he next proceeded to swartboy, and borrowed from the bushman his whip, or rather the handle of the whip-- for swartboy took off the lash to accommodate him. it must be here remembered that jan and swartboy were great allies, and had been so for a long time; and it was in reality swartboy who had taught jan the curious mode he was about to practise upon the koorhaans. it must also be remembered that the handle of swartboy's whip was an immense affair-- a bamboo cane, full eighteen feet in length, and more like a fishing-rod than a whip-handle. well, upon the end of this, where the lash had been tied, jan adjusted his snare; and then, mounting his pony, rode forth upon the plain. klaas stood watching him; and upon klaas's countenance there was a puzzled expression that jan did not fail to notice, and that delighted him exceedingly. klaas knew nothing about the _modus operandi_--could not guess how the other was going to act--and his ignorance betrayed itself, though he did not say a word. was jan going to ride up and snare the birds? surely they would not let him come so near? they appeared shy enough, and would not let him, klaas, come within shot, for he had tried it but the minute before. no: it could not be that way--the koorhaans wouldn't stand it, he knew. jan said nothing, but rode triumphantly forth, looking askance at klaas as he passed out from camp. when within about one hundred yards of the koorhaans--klaas expecting every moment to see them run off as koorhaans usually do--jan turned the head of his pony, and commenced riding round in a circle. this he continued until he had got quite round the first circumference; and then, drawing his pony slightly inward, he began a second circle, which he completed as the first; and then still heading more inward, he made a third, and a fourth, and a fifth--of all which circles the bustards formed the centre. of course, it was not exactly a circle he traced, but a spiral line constantly narrowing inward upon the game. "oho!" muttered klaas, "i see what he's after now. oho!" klaas said nothing more; but remained watching with great interest, while jan continued round and round like a blind horse in a brick-mill. but jan was not blind. he was watching the movements of the koorhaans with the sharp eye of a bird-catcher. and these birds were equally watching him--turning their heads now to this side and now to that; but, like stupids as they were, neglecting to use either their wings or legs to carry them out of the way of danger. the result was that they permitted the pony, and jan upon its back, to approach so near, that the boy was at length able to reach one of them with the top of swartboy's long whip-stick, and pass the noose over head, topknot, and all. in another moment the bird was fluttering at the end of the bamboo; and jan, without dismounting, pulled the creature in that way up to the wagons, and held it there with an air of triumph that left klaas without a word to say for the "balance" of that evening. chapter forty nine. groot willem and the python. groot willem awoke from his nap before the others. it still wanted nearly two hours of sunset, and the hunter, observing a reddish object at a distance that looked like some animal, shouldered his roer and proceeded towards it. he took with him one of the buck-dogs, a well-trained and favourite hound, that usually accompanied him--even on a stalking expedition. the red object which he had seen was near the edge of the valley, and at the bottom of a rocky precipice that bounded it upon that side. there were some trees growing along by the foot of the cliff, and the hunter calculated on being able to get a shot at the animal, whatever it was, from behind the cover of these trees. he continued on up the valley, and at length got near enough to tell what he was stalking at. it was a small antelope, just about the size of the klipspringer, and with little erect horns four inches in length. in colour, however, it was unlike the latter. the upper parts of its body were a deep red, and underneath white, while its snout and face were black. the little creature was higher at the croup than at the withers, and entirely without a tail, or with a tail only one inch long, that had more the appearance of a stump. groot willem, when he came nigh, recognised this antelope to be the _steenbok_, for he had met with it before, as it is common throughout the colony, inhabiting high lying grounds where there are bushes. it is one of those classed under the genus _tragulus_, of which three other species--all small antelopes--are met with in south africa. the other three are the "grysbok," (_tragulus melanotis_), the "vlackte steenbok," (_t. rufescens_), and the "bleekbok;" (_t. pediotragus_); though some naturalists assert that the last are only _varieties_ of the steenbok, (_t. rupestris_). groot willem did not spend a thought upon these matters, he only thought of "stalking" the steenbok, and having its ribs for a roast at supper. he was able to approach it without any difficulty, as it was close to the bushes, and appeared not to be very shy. there was but the creature itself--a little buck; and rarely is more than one, or at most two of these antelopes seen together--for the steenbok, and all the others of the genus _tragulus_, are monogamous and solitary. groot willem was at length within range, and was about to level his roer on the game, when the movements of the little animal caused him to hold his hand. its actions were very odd, indeed. it was not browsing--it was not standing still--it was not running away from the ground,--and yet it was in constant motion! as already stated, it was close in to the edge of the timber, where a number of small olean trees stood thinly over the ground. in front of these the little buck was dancing about in a very original manner. now it ran to the right,--anon to the left,--now zigzag,--now it started suddenly backwards,--then ran forwards again,--all the while its eyes turning in a particular direction and shining brilliantly, as if the animal itself was in a state of unusual excitement. groot willem looked to discover the cause of this odd manoeuvring on the part of the steenbok; something among the olean-wood trees seemed to attract the notice of the animal. on this something the eyes of the hunter rested with wonderment; and for some moments he was unable to make out what it was. he could perceive a large glittering mass near the bottom of one of the trees; but this mass at first sight appeared without any particular form, and lay perfectly motionless. as groot willem continued to gaze upon it, however, it gradually assumed a form, or rather his eyes gradually traced one, for the mass had not yet moved. a hideous form it was--though of smooth and regular proportions--it was the form of a reptile--a serpent! a serpent of enormous size, for the mass of its body, gathered up in a sort of irregular coil, covered the ground over a space of several square feet, while the body itself seemed thicker than the thighs of a full-grown man! the head of the reptile rested upon the top of the coiled body, and on running his eye along the mottled and glistening outlines, groot willem perceived that its tail was doubled around the stem of the olean-wood, and held it with firm grasp--for the serpent belonged to a family whose tails are furnished with horny claw-like hooks, giving them a power of prehension in this member equal to that of a hand. this is the family of the _boidae_, or "boas," to which the one in question was generically related. it was a _python_--the _python natalensis_. groot willem only knew it as the "rock-snake," and that is its ordinary designation--given it on account of the fact of its being a dweller among rocks and stony places. it might very properly be called "rock-boa," which would distinguish it from its cousins of america, the _anaconda_, or "water-boa," and the true boa, which is a denizen of the forest, and which would therefore merit the title of "tree-boa." notwithstanding the difference of the dwelling-place of the boas and pythons, their habits are very similar. they lie in wait for their prey, capture it with their strong retractile teeth, and crushing it to death by constriction, swallow it whole--though often the animal swallowed is much larger than the diameter of their own bodies. their elastic muscles, however, enable them to effect their purpose, aided by the slippery saliva which is copiously supplied from their glands. when groot willem first saw the huge python, its head was lying over the coils of its body, and motionless. presently, the head was raised up with the neck, and several feet of the body; and the parts, thus erected, moved gently from side to side with a sort of vibratory motion. the jaws were widely extended, so that the sharp retractile teeth were plainly visible, and the forked tongue at intervals was shot forward, and gleamed in the sun. the _eyes_ of the reptile sparkled like fire. it was a fearful object to look upon! and yet the steenbok did not appear to dread it. on the contrary, it kept drawing nearer and nearer, excited either by curiosity or _fascination_! there are those who ridicule the idea of _fascination_ on the part of serpents. but whether we are to believe in such a power or not, we cannot deny the fact. certain it is, that whether it be curiosity, fear, or fascination, both birds and animals are moved to approach not only serpents, but crocodiles, until within reach of the jaws that are opened to devour them. certain is this, and vouched for by the testimony of many a correct and reliable observer. groot willem witnessed the strange phenomenon. when the buck had got within some six or eight feet of the python, the head of the latter suddenly shot out; and before the antelope, which now appeared making an effort to escape, could spring out of the way, it was seized by the teeth of the reptile, and dragged towards the tree! a number of quick contortions followed, and when groot willem looked again, the red body of the little antelope was almost hidden under the thick folds of the spotted python, that writhing around it was crushing it to death! chapter fifty. groot willem's great struggle with the snake. now it chanced that the sight of that great serpent was very gratifying to the eyes of groot willem--far more so than any antelope. the reason was, that a friend of his, a young doctor of graaf reinet, who was fond of the study of herpetology, had requested him to bring home the skins of such rare snakes as he might fall in with--but especially that of the great "rock-snake," which is not found in the colony, not even so far south as the orange river. here was a chance for the skin, which, up to this time, groot willem had searched for in vain. he had another reason for being gratified; and that was the splendid trophy it would be, provided he succeeded in obtaining it. to kill a snake twenty feet long, and half as thick as a man--for the python appeared to be both--would be no small triumph! where would hendrik be then? all at once the steenbok was forgotten, and the snake became the object of the hunter's skill. groot willem had no skill about him. he knew of no mode to attack this new sort of enemy, except dealing with it as he would with a quadruped-- that is, sending a bullet into it; and this he did the moment after. his roer was levelled; and, glancing through his ivory sights, he fired the large ball through the thickest part of the reptile's body. the latter felt the shot; and, suddenly unfolding itself, dropped the steenbok--now nothing more than a mangled carcase, with scarce a whole bone in it. the rapidity with which the snake glided off showed that the wound had done it but little harm. the hunter thought of reloading again, when he perceived the serpent fast making to the rocks that in large masses lay piled up near the bottom of the cliff. among these was its retreat; and if it once reached them, groot willem saw that he should never set eyes on it again. without staying to reload his gun, then, he ran in among the trees, and followed the direction taken by the serpent. although these snakes glide along with considerable rapidity, they can by no means go so fast as a man; and in less than a dozen seconds groot willem had overtaken the python, and for that matter might have trodden upon its tail. there he was close beside the fearful-looking monster, but without the knowledge how to attack it. he began by striking at its body with the butt of his gun; but although his blows were delivered fairly enough, the metal-shod heel of his roer only glanced from the slippery skin of the snake, without harming it in the least, or even retarding its progress towards the cliff. it made no attempt to retaliate, but only seemed bent on escaping to its lair. it was almost successful; for although groot willem pounded away with all his might, it reached the rocks in spite of him, and had buried half of its long body within a crevice--no doubt the entrance to its den-- before the hunter thought of changing his tactics. it was now a critical moment with groot willem. another instant, and the remaining half of the snake would slip out of sight, and then good-bye to it. what would he say to his medical friend? what to hendrik and the yagers? these thoughts inspired him with renewed energy; a new determination to succeed came over him. the snake was not a poisonous one; and, therefore, the encounter could not be very dangerous. it might bite him, but he had battled with many a biting creature before now, and conquered them, too. he would try his strength upon the snake. he was not two seconds of time on coming to this determination; and, as soon as he had done so, he tossed his roer aside, and stooping down, seized the tail of the snake in both hands, and commenced hauling upon it! at the first "pluck" he drew the reptile several feet outward; but, to his surprise, it then held fast; and, notwithstanding his great strength, he was unable to draw it a foot farther. the creature had, no doubt, got the fore-part of its body around an angle in the rocks; and, aided by its scaly skin, was enabled to hold fast. groot willem pulled with all his might. a sailor in a storm could not have hauled harder upon the main brace; but all to no purpose, as not another foot of that part of the python that was still visible could be lengthened. about the half of it was still outside, but the other ten feet were buried within the dark recesses of the rocks. for several minutes groot willem continued to exert his strength, dragging the long cylinder until he could hear its vertebrae crack, but without gaining an inch! on the contrary, he had already lost several inches. every time that he relaxed his hold, the python was enabled to move forward a bit, and this ground it never gave up again. if groot willem allowed it an inch, it was sure to struggle for an ell! it had all the advantage on its side, as it pulled _with the grain_, while its antagonist was exerting his strength _against_ it. groot willem felt confident he could hold the python in this position, as long as he could stand upon his feet; but what good would there be in so doing? he could not kill it in that way. if he were to "let go" for but an instant, he very well knew that the next instant would show him the last inch of the tail disappearing into the crevice! no, he could not let go, and he was resolved not to let go, until he should at least try the patience of his opponent. maybe it would tire of being thus held upon the "stretch," and would let him pull it out again. if there had only been some one with him to administer a few smart blows upon the creature's body it would have been all well; but the camp was at a very long distance off, and behind the trees. his companions could neither see nor hear him. after standing on the strain a considerable time, a bright idea entered the brain of the hunter. there grew a small tree beside him--in fact, he was close by its trunk. the thought occurred that, if by any means he could fasten the tail to the tree, he could then go to work with a sapling, and beat the snake to death at his pleasure. he was a ready fellow, groot willem, and a few moments sufficed him to mature his plans. he chanced to have a strong "cord" in the ample pocket of his jacket, which would serve to effect the very purpose, if he could only manage somehow to make it fast to the tail. this he proceeded to do at once. straddling the snake, so as to hold it partly between his knees, he was enabled to loop the cord tightly around it, and the thing was done. in a minute more, the other end of the cord was tightly knotted around the trunk of the tree! groot willem now broke off a sapling, determined either to beat the hinder half of the python to a jelly, or make it surrender and show its head! he had not delivered the third blow, when it adopted the latter alternative; and the whole of its body now glided rapidly back out of the crevice--so rapidly that groot willem was not able to avoid the onset of the enraged reptile, and the next moment he was gathered within its coils! so quick was the act, that he scarce knew how it had been accomplished. he saw the head, with its open jaws extended, dart towards him; he sprang to one side, but felt the cold scaly body against his limbs as if pulling him towards the tree; and the moment after, he was swept close up to the trunk, and pressed tightly against it! he had just time to perceive that the folds of the serpent were around his limbs, and also around the trunk of the tree,--just time to feel that they were gradually tightening upon him--when the head, with its extended jaws and terrible teeth, came right opposite his face, and the eyes of the monster gleamed right into his! a horrid spectacle it was--a horrid situation he was in; but groot willem was not the boy to lose either courage or presence of mind; and, finding his arms still free, he clutched forward and seized the reptile by the throat. to hold its head was just as much as he was able with both hands and with all his strength; but he held with the grasp of despair. fortunate it was for him that the tail of the python was secured by the rheim, and it was thus held fast at both ends! had it been otherwise--had either head or tail been free, so that it could have used its power of constriction--in a few seconds more, groot willem would have been crushed as he had seen the little antelope. but now that both tail and head were fixed--the one by the cord and the other in the strong grasp of the hunter--the serpent was unable to exert its terrible power; and its folds remained loose around the limbs of its intended victim! it writhed its neck, and wriggled its body, and changed the spiral rings from one part to another,--but all in vain. it could do him no harm! how long this terrible struggle might have lasted would have depended upon how long the strength of the two could have held out. groot willem could not free himself from the folds of his antagonist, as _both_ his legs were bound to the tree; and had he dropped the head of the python for a moment, he knew it would crush him to death. the snake, on the other hand, could not free itself, as it was held fast at both extremities. what was to be the result? which would be the conqueror? the serpent must have conquered in the end; though it might not have been able to free itself, as its tail was fastened to the tree. but groot willem was not able to strangle it, with all the compression he was exercising upon its throat, and his strength would have yielded in time. most certainly would he have fallen a victim, but for a plan that he at length adopted to set himself free. during all the continuance of the fight between him and the serpent, he had not attempted to use his knife. he had not thought of such a weapon against such an enemy. not dreaming that he would be brought into close quarters, he had almost forgotten that he carried a knife. by good fortune he had one, and it was in his belt. even though one or two folds of the snake were around his breast, he could see the handle of the knife above them; and making a sudden grasp, he laid hold of it, and drew it forth. the blade chanced to be almost as keen as a razor; and although the serpent now succeeded in twisting its head partially free, before it could tighten its folds, the sharp edge of the knife had half severed its body in twain! a second gash was made in another part, and then a third and still deeper one; and the resolute hunter had the gratification to see the spiral rounds that threatened his destruction fall off and drop heavily to his feet! in a short while the python lay dead upon the ground; and groot willem, although he felt that he had secured a great triumph, left the spot with some regret that he had _spoiled the skin_! chapter fifty one. the honey-guide and honey-eater. groot willem's adventure was acknowledged by all to be the most wonderful that had occurred to any of them--even surpassing that of hendrik with the rhinoceros--and for a good while it continued to be the subject of camp conversation. during the expedition, every one of the party had either performed some grand feat or fallen in with a remarkable adventure, except arend. it was not that arend had less courage or less capacity than the rest; but, partly, because he felt no inclination to put himself in the way of hunting adventures, and partly that the chances had not favoured him. one adventure he had fallen in with--literally _fallen in_ with. he had tumbled, horse and all, into a pit-trap set by some savages for capturing the rhinoceros! fortunately, the sharp spike, usually placed at the bottom of these holes, had been removed--else either arend or the horse would have fared worse than they did. many a laugh had the six young yagers at arend's solitary adventure. i say six, for arend always good-naturedly joined in it himself. arend was not the man for adventures in the great wilderness. had it been in the great city instead, no doubt his fine face and handsome figure would have helped him to many a one in the flirtation line--had he been inclined that way. but neither did arend care about that. he had but one ruling thought-- so groot willem alleged--and that was to get home to the graaf reinet; and groot usually added the reason, by giving a wink, and a word or two about "cherry cheeks and blue eyes." arend, however, was not destined to see home without one other adventure, in which all the rest had share, and which proved not only the last they met with during that expedition, but was near being the last of their lives! they had changed their camp from the flowery plain to another equally flowery, though the plants that blossomed around were of a very different character. there were geraniums and marigolds in this plain, as there had been in the other; but here euphorbias of different species predominated, with cacti and other succulent plants. above their heads towered the tree euphorbia, (_e. grandidens_), while at their feet the melon-shaped variety peeped forth from the ground. there too, were several poisonous species; among others the _euphorbia antiquorum_ growing side by side with the deadly belladonna lily, (_amaryllis belladonna_). the young yagers seemed to have arrived upon a spot of earth that was almost wholly occupied with poison-yielding plants! and yet it was a lovely scene. the flowers looked as fresh and as fair as elsewhere, and their fragrance scented the air around. birds disported themselves among the branches of the trees; and bees hummed and whirred over the blossoms, imparting cheerfulness to the wild scene, and calling up ideas of home that were, at the moment, agreeable to the tired travellers. they had just formed camp, and were sitting quietly down, when their attention was drawn to a bird that had perched itself upon a low bush at no great distance from the wagons. it was not the beauty of this bird that attracted them, for its plumage was not beautiful, being of an ashy-brown colour upon the back, and grey below. it was not its size, which was that of an ordinary finch; nor its song, which was no better than a monotonous chatter of the syllables "kwi-kwi-kwi-kit." it was none of these things that caused the young yagers to give their attention to the bird, but its peculiar character-- already well known to all of them. the little bird which sat upon the bush, starting from branch to branch, jerking about its tail, and uttering the "kwi-kwi-kit," was no other than the celebrated "honey-guide." they all knew it; for they had met with it several times during the expedition, and hans had told them its history. they all knew of its curious habits; how it will guide a man to the nest of the wild bee, by fluttering before him from bush to bush and rock to rock until it reaches the spot; how it will wait until the hive has been robbed of its honey-treasure; and then alight by the despoiled nest to feed upon the larvae of the bees, or the fragments of honeycomb that may have been left! they all knew this of the honey-guide, because they had followed one before now, and proved the truth of this wonderful _instinct_, which has been doubted by many travellers as well as naturalists. those points of its natural history they did not know of hans had told them of long before. he had told them how the bird had been classed among the cuckoos, under the title _cuculus indicator_--because it shares with the true cuckoos the singular habit of depositing its eggs in the nest of another bird; how other naturalists have formed a genus for itself--the genus _indicator_, of which several species are known; how the bird feeds mostly upon honey and the larvae of bees; and how nature has given it a protection against the stings of the old ones in the thickness of its skin: but swartboy declared, in relation to this matter, that the thick skin did not always save it; as he had often found the honey-guide lying dead by the nests of the bees, and evidently killed by their stings! all these points in the natural history of the honey-bird were known to the young yagers; therefore the little chatterer, that had lit upon the adjacent bush, was no stranger to them. and they were all right glad to see it, for a certain reason--because they wanted some honey, and particularly at that very time, as their sugar had run out, and they had nothing to sweeten their coffee with--a privation to several of the party. all leaped to their feet, therefore, with the determination to follow the "honey-guide," go where it would. they laid hold of their arms; and, what was still stranger, saddled and mounted their horses, intending to follow the guide on horseback! you will wonder at this. but when you hear that the honey-guide often takes the hunter six or seven miles through the woods--and that not unfrequently it guides him to the lair of a lion, or the haunt of a black rhinoceros, instead of to the nest of a bee--you will understand why the young yagers took these precautions. just as they were about starting out, a very odd-looking animal "hove in sight." it had something of the appearance of a badger--being low set on its legs, plantigrade in its hind-feet, and with a snout and tail very like those of that animal. its colour, too, and pelage, was not unlike that of the common badger--a sombre grey above and black below, divided by a light stripe running down each side from the ears to the root of the tail. in size it was superior to the badger, and nearly equalling in this respect the american glutton, or "wolverene," which it also resembled. it had the general appearance of all the animals of the badger family--which, though few in genera and species, is represented by one or two in nearly every part of the globe. the animal which our yagers saw, or its species, to speak more properly, was the representative of that family in south africa. it was the "ratel," or "honey-eater," (_mellivora capensis_). now this quadruped was almost as well known to our party as the bird. they knew that its habits were equally singular; that, like the "indicator," it possessed a "sweet tooth;" and spent most, if not all of its time, in searching for the nests of bees and robbing them of their honey--provided the said nests were in the ground, where it could tear them up with its strong terrier-claws. on the other hand, when the nest chanced to be in a tree, they knew the ratel could not reach it--this animal not being a tree-climber. on such occasions he usually leaves the mark of his claws upon the lower bark, and this often guides the hottentot hunter to a nest stored with honey. all these things the yagers had learnt from swartboy and congo; and from hans a few other facts--such as that the ratel is found throughout all africa--that it is formed by naturalists into a genus of itself, like so many other anomalous creatures of that continent--that its skin is so thick the bees cannot pierce it with their stings, so that it devours their honeycombs without fear of the buzzing insects--that on account of its disagreeable odour it is sometimes known as the "stinking badger." other facts with which all were acquainted were, that the ratel is accustomed to follow the "honey-guide;" and that the bird frequently conducts the quadruped to the hive--very much in the same way as it acts when followed by a man. _it is said_, however, on such occasions to fly lower, and to take shorter flights, lest the badger might lose sight of it! so says monsieur verreaux! now it was plain to the party that the ratel was at that moment in pursuit of his profession, and in full pursuit of the indicator. the interference, however, of the mounted yagers caused him to turn round, and make off in another direction; and the impatient "guide," having now gone ahead, was followed by a-much larger "tail." on went the little creature from tree to tree, uttering its "kwi-kwi-kit," and evidently pleased at its new "following." on rode the young yagers directly in the wake of their guide. fortunately they had not far to go. the more frequently repeated twittering of the bird, and the increased excitement which the little creature exhibited, told the hunters they were near the nest of the bees; and in a few minutes after the bird perched upon a particular tree, and would fly no farther. in this tree was the hive! they could have told that from the fact that near its roots the bark was scratched and torn off by the claws of some animal--the claws of a ratel, of course--and the amount of scratching showed, that more than one of these honey-eating quadrupeds had been guided to this place of _sweets_ to meet with bitter disappointment! a pair of axes, with swartboy and congo to handle them, were now brought from the camp; the tree soon fell under their strokes: the bees were smoked out; and the honeycombs--a fragment or two being left as a reward for the services of the "guide"--were carried off to camp. the store proved one of the largest? and the six yagers, as well as their dark-skinned attendants, that evening enjoyed a "surfeit of sweets." chapter fifty two. conclusion. and a surfeit of sweets it proved. better for them had they never found that bees' nest, or had left its contents to the bird and the badger. in less than an hour from the time they had eaten the honey, the whole camp was in a state of the greatest alarm. every one of the party was suffering from a parched throat, a burning breast, and a loathing at the stomach. the bees had been busy among the blossoms of the belladonna and the flowers of the euphorbia, and _their honey was poison_! it would be difficult to depict the consternation that was felt in the camp. they had all eaten of the poisoned honey--yagers, drivers, and all. they had all eaten plentifully of it--for there chanced to be plenty--and the absence of a vegetable diet for some days past had sharpened their appetite for the honey. not one of them that was not ill--too ill either to give help or consolation to the others. every one believed he was _poisoned_, and acted accordingly. hans of all preserved most presence of mind. he used all his skill in administering such antidotes as he could think of. purgatives and emetics--such as they had in their chests--were freely administered; and no doubt to these might be attributed the saving of their lives. their lives _were_ saved--the crisis passed without proving fatal to any of them--but for days their illness continued; for days the young yagers might be seen wandering about the camp, or sitting listlessly around the camp-fire reduced to the thinness of skeletons, and looking like the ghosts of their former selves! so great a shock had their health received, that they thought no more of continuing their expedition; they only waited for strength enough to enable them to set out on their return homeward. arend's desire would now be fulfilled--he would soon look upon the lovely truey, and listen to the cheerful music of her voice. hendrik--ardent hunter though he was--was equally desirous to get back, and lay his spoils at the feet of the blushing wilhelmina. klaas and jan longed for puddings and sugar-plums; and hans, who had now made a very extensive collection of the flora of the country, was also willing to return. only one--the great tireless loose-boned giant, groot willem--would still have persevered, and climbed over the mountains that separated them from the land of elephants, buffaloes, and camelopards. groot willem would still have gone on, had it been possible for the others to have accompanied him. but it was not possible, and the big hunter-boy was obliged to turn back with his companions. it was with a heavy heart that he did so--for he had for many years entertained an ardent longing to try his roer upon the huge thick-skinned quadrupeds that now roamed far beyond the frontier of the settlements. perhaps he faced homeward with the less regret, that he had hopes of making, at no distant day, _another expedition to the haunts of the mighty elephant upon the banks of the lovely limpopo_. this hope consoled groot willem, as he mounted his huge horse, and rode after the wagons that were already inspanned and treking down the valley. day by day, as the young yagers travelled homewards, they grew stronger and stronger; and when they had reached the graaf reinet, the effects of the poisoned honey had entirely disappeared--so that all six arrived home "safe and sound." i need not tell you that a warm welcome awaited them in the paternal mansions of van wyk and von bloom. i need not tell how lovely looked truey, and how sweetly blushed wilhelmina; nor need i describe the splendid "vrolykeid" that was given--at which all the rich boors of the country were present to celebrate the return of: "the young yagers." the end. the bush boys history and adventures of a cape farmer and his family by captain mayne reid ________________________________________________________________________ this is not quite your usual style of book by mayne reid. we are used to books about the mexican war, and similar topics, books where there are plenty of words and expressions in mexican-spanish. in this book there are equally plenty of words and expressions in africaans, the variety of dutch spoken originally by the boers (boors in this book), the dutch farmers. the book is a very good introduction to the animals, both mammals and birds, of south africa. the snakes get a mention, too. several very tense moments are built up, and you will be wondering right up to the very last moment how whoever is involved in the story, is going to get out of the situation. recommended as perhaps one of the best books by this prolific author. nh ________________________________________________________________________ the bush boys history and adventures of a cape farmer and his family by captain mayne reid chapter one. the boors. hendrik von bloom was a _boor_. my young english reader, do not suppose that i mean any disrespect to mynheer von bloom, by calling him a "boor." in our good cape colony a "boor" is a farmer. it is no reproach to be called a farmer. von bloom was one--a dutch farmer of the cape--a boor. the boors of the cape colony have figured very considerably in modern history. although naturally a people inclined to peace, they have been forced into various wars, both with native africans and europeans; and in these wars they have acquitted themselves admirably, and given proofs that a pacific people when need be can fight just as well as those who are continually exulting in the ruffian glory of the soldier. but the boors have been accused of cruelty in their wars--especially those carried on against the native races. in an abstract point of view the accusation might appear just. but when we come to consider the provocation, received at the hands of these savage enemies, we learn to look more leniently upon the conduct of the cape dutch. it is true they reduced the yellow hottentots to a state of slavery; but at that same time, we, the english, were transporting ship-loads of black guineamen across the atlantic, while the spaniards and portuguese were binding the red men of america in fetters as tight and hard. another point to be considered is the character of the natives with whom the dutch boors had to deal. the keenest cruelty inflicted upon them by the colonists was mercy, compared with the treatment which these savages had to bear at the hands of their own despots. this does not justify the dutch for having reduced the hottentots to a state of slavery; but, all circumstances considered, there is no one of the maritime nations who can gracefully accuse them of cruelty. in their dealings with the aborigines of the cape, they have had to do with savages of a most wicked and degraded stamp; and the history of colonisation, under such circumstances, could not be otherwise then full of unpleasant episodes. young reader, i could easily defend the conduct of the boors of cape colony, but i have not space here. i can only give you my opinion; and that is, that they are a brave, strong, healthy, moral, peace-loving, industrious race--lovers of truth, and friends to republican freedom--in short, a noble race of men. is it likely, then, when i called hendrik von bloom a boor, that i meant him any disrespect? quite the contrary. but mynheer hendrik had not always been a boor. he could boast of a somewhat higher condition--that is, he could boast of a better education than the mere cape farmer usually possesses, as well as some experience in wielding the sword. he was not a native of the colony, but of the mother country; and he had found his way to the cape not as a poor adventurer seeking his fortune, but as an officer in a dutch regiment then stationed there. his soldier-service in the colony was not of long duration. a certain cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired gertrude--the daughter of a rich boor--had taken a liking to the young lieutenant; and he in his turn became vastly fond of her. the consequence was, that they got married. gertrude's father dying shortly after, the large farm, with its full stock of horses, and hottentots, broad-tailed sheep, and long-horned oxen, became hers. this was an inducement for her soldier-husband to lay down the sword and turn "vee-boor," or stock farmer, which he consequently did. these incidents occurred many years previous to the english becoming masters of the cape colony. when that event came to pass, hendrik von bloom was already a man of influence in the colony and "field-cornet" of his district, which lay in the beautiful county of graaf reinet. he was then a widower, the father of a small family. the wife whom he had fondly loved,--the cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired gertrude--no longer lived. history will tell you how the dutch colonists, discontented with english rule, rebelled against it. the ex-lieutenant and field-cornet was one of the most prominent among these rebels. history will also tell you how the rebellion was put down; and how several of those compromised were brought to execution. von bloom escaped by flight; but his fine property in the graaf reinet was confiscated and given to another. many years after we find him living in a remote district beyond the great orange river, leading the life of a "trek-boor,"--that is, a nomade farmer, who has no fixed or permanent abode, but moves with his flocks from place to place, wherever good pastures and water may tempt him. from about this time dates my knowledge of the field-cornet and his family. of his history previous to this i have stated all i know, but for a period of many years after i am more minutely acquainted with it. most of its details i received from the lips of his own son, i was greatly interested, and indeed instructed, by them. they were my first lessons in _african zoology_. believing, boy reader, that they might also instruct and interest you, i here lay them before you. you are not to regard them as merely fanciful. the descriptions of the wild creatures that play their parts in this little history, as well as the acts, habits, and instincts assigned to them, you may regard as true to nature. young von bloom was a student of nature, and you may depend upon the fidelity of his descriptions. disgusted with politics, the field-cornet now dwelt on the remote frontier--in fact, beyond the frontier, for the nearest settlement was an hundred miles off. his "kraal" was in a district bordering the great kalihari desert--the saara of southern africa. the region around, for hundreds of miles, was uninhabited, for the thinly-scattered, half-human bushmen who dwelt within its limits, hardly deserved the name of inhabitants any more than the wild beasts that howled around them. i have said that von bloom now followed the occupation of a "trek-boor." farming in the cape colony consists principally in the rearing of horses, cattle, sheep, and goats; and these animals form the wealth of the boor. but the stock of our field-cornet was now a very small one. the proscription had swept away all his wealth, and he had not been fortunate in his first essays as a nomade grazier. the emancipation law, passed by the british government, extended not only to the negroes of the west india islands, but also to the hottentots of the cape; and the result of it was that the servants of mynheer von bloom had deserted him. his cattle, no longer properly cared for, had strayed off. some of them fell a prey to wild beasts--some died of the _murrain_. his horses, too, were decimated by that mysterious disease of southern africa, the "horse-sickness;" while his sheep and goats were continually being attacked and diminished in numbers by the earth-wolf, the wild hound, and the hyena. a series of losses had he suffered until his horses, oxen, sheep, and goats, scarce counted altogether an hundred head. a very small stock for a vee-boor, or south african grazier. withal our field-cornet was not unhappy. he looked around upon his three brave sons--hans, hendrik, and jan. he looked upon his cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired daughter, gertrude, the very type and image of what her mother had been. from these he drew the hope of a happier future. his two eldest boys were already helps to him in his daily occupations; the youngest would soon be so likewise. in gertrude,--or "truey," as she was endearingly styled,--he would soon have a capital housekeeper. he was not unhappy therefore; and if an occasional sigh escaped him, it was when the face of little truey recalled the memory of that gertrude who was now in heaven. but hendrik von bloom was not the man to despair. disappointments had not succeeded in causing his spirits to droop. he only applied himself more ardently to the task of once more building up his fortune. for himself he had no ambition to be rich. he would have been contented with the simple life he was leading, and would have cared but little to increase his wealth. but other considerations weighed upon his mind-- the future of his little family. he could not suffer his children to grow up in the midst of the wild plains without education. no; they must one day return to the abodes of men, to act their part in the drama of social and civilised life. this was his design. but how was this design to be accomplished? though his so-called act of _treason_ had been pardoned, and he was now free to return within the limits of the colony, he was ill prepared for such a purpose. his poor wasted stock would not suffice to set him up within the settlements. it would scarce keep him a month. to return would be to return a beggar! reflections of this kind sometimes gave him anxiety. but they also added energy to his disposition, and rendered him more eager to overcome the obstacles before him. during the present year he had been very industrious. in order that his cattle should be provided for in the season of winter he had planted a large quantity of maize and buckwheat, and now the crops of both were in the most prosperous condition. his garden, too, smiled, and promised a profusion of fruits, and melons, and kitchen vegetables. in short, the little homestead where he had fixed himself for a time, was a miniature oasis; and he rejoiced day after day, as his eyes rested upon the ripening aspect around him. once more he began to dream of prosperity-- once more to hope that his evil fortunes had come to an end. alas! it was a false hope. a series of trials yet awaited him--a series of misfortunes that deprived him of almost everything he possessed, and completely changed his mode of existence. perhaps these occurrences could hardly be termed _misfortunes_, since in the end they led to a happy result. but you may judge for yourself, boy reader, after you have heard the "history and adventures" of the "trek-boor" and his family. chapter two. the "kraal." the ex-field-cornet was seated in front of his _kraal_--for such is the name of a south african homestead. from his lips protruded a large pipe, with its huge bowl of _meerschaum_. every boor is a smoker. notwithstanding the many losses and crosses of his past life, there was contentment in his eye. he was gratified by the prosperous appearance of his crops. the maize was now "in the milk," and the ears, folded within the papyrus-like husks, looked full and large. it was delightful to hear the rustling of the long green blades, and see the bright golden tassels waving in the breeze. the heart of the farmer was glad as his eye glanced over his promising crop of "mealies." but there was another promising crop that still more gladdened his heart--his fine children. there they are--all around him. hans--the oldest--steady, sober hans, at work in the well-stocked garden; while the diminutive but sprightly imp jan, the youngest, is looking on, and occasionally helping his brother. hendrik--the dashing hendrik, with bright face and light curling hair--is busy among the horses, in the "horse-kraal;" and truey--the beautiful, cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired truey--is engaged with her pet--a fawn of the springbok gazelle--whose bright eyes rival her own in their expression of innocence and loveliness. yes, the heart of the field-cornet is glad as he glances from one to the other of these his children--and with reason. they are all fair to look upon,--all give promise of goodness. if their father feels an occasional pang, it is, as we have already said, when his eye rests upon the cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired gertrude. but time has long since subdued that grief to a gentle melancholy. its pang is short-lived, and the face of the field-cornet soon lightens up again as he looks around upon his dear children, so full of hope and promise. hans and hendrik are already strong enough to assist him in his occupations,--in fact, with the exception of "swartboy," they are the only help he has. who is swartboy? look into the horse-kraal, and you will there see swartboy engaged, along with his young master hendrik, in saddling a pair of horses. you may notice that swartboy appears to be about thirty years old, and he is full that; but if you were to apply a measuring rule to him, you would find him not much over four feet in height! he is stoutly built however, and would measure better in a horizontal direction. you may notice that he is of a yellow complexion, although his name might lead you to fancy he was black--for "swartboy" means "black-boy." you may observe that his nose is flat and sunk below the level of his cheeks; that his cheeks are prominent, his lips very thick, his nostrils wide, his face beardless, and his head almost hairless--for the small kinky wool-knots thinly-scattered over his skull can scarcely be designated hair. you may notice, moreover, that his head is monstrously large, with ears in proportion, and that the eyes are set obliquely, and have a chinese expression. you may notice about swartboy all those characteristics that distinguish the "hottentots" of south africa. yet swartboy is _not_ a hottentot--though he is of the same race. he is a _bushman_. how came this wild bushman into the service of the ex-field-cornet von bloom? about that there is a little romantic history. thus:-- among the savage tribes of southern africa there exists a very cruel custom,--that of abandoning their aged or infirm, and often their sick or wounded, to die in the desert. children leave their parents behind them, and the wounded are often forsaken by their comrades with no other provision made for them beyond a day's food and a cup of water! the bushman swartboy had been the victim of this custom. he had been upon a hunting excursion with some of his own kindred, and had been sadly mangled by a lion. his comrades, not expecting him to live, left him on the plain to die; and most certainly would he have perished had it not been for our field-cornet. the latter, as he was "trekking" over the plains, found the wounded bushman, lifted him into his wagon, carried him on to his camp, dressed his wounds, and nursed him till he became well. that is how swartboy came to be in the service of the field-cornet. though gratitude is not a characteristic of his race, swartboy was not ungrateful. when all the other servants ran away, he remained faithful to his master; and since that time had been a most efficient and useful hand. in fact, he was now the only one left, with the exception of the girl, totty--who was, of course, a hottentot; and much about the same height, size, and colour, as swartboy himself. we have said that swartboy and the young hendrik were saddling a pair of horses. as soon as they had finished that job, they mounted them, and riding out of the kraal, took their way straight across the plain. they were followed by a couple of strong, rough-looking dogs. their purpose was to drive home the oxen and the other horses that were feeding a good distance off. this they were in the habit of doing every evening at the same hour,--for in south africa it is necessary to shut up all kinds of live-stock at night, to protect them from beasts of prey. for this purpose are built several enclosures with high walls,--"kraals," as they are called,--a word of the same signification as the spanish "corral," and i fancy introduced into africa by the portuguese--since it is not a native term. these kraals are important structures about the homestead of a boor, almost as much so as his own dwelling-house, which of itself also bears the name of "kraal." as young hendrik and swartboy rode off for the horses and cattle, hans, leaving his work in the garden, proceeded to collect the sheep and drive them home. these browsed in a different direction; but, as they were near, he went afoot, taking little jan along with him. truey having tied her pet to a post, had gone inside the house to help totty in preparing the supper. thus the field-cornet was left to himself and his pipe, which he still continued to smoke. he sat in perfect silence, though he could scarce restrain from giving expression to the satisfaction he felt at seeing his family thus industriously employed. though pleased with all his children, it must be confessed he had some little partiality for the dashing hendrik, who bore his own name, and who reminded him more of his own youth than any of the others. he was proud of hendrik's gallant horsemanship, and his eyes followed him over the plain until the riders were nearly a mile off, and already mixing among the cattle. at this moment an object came under the eyes of von bloom, that at once arrested his attention. it was a curious appearance along the lower part of the sky, in the direction in which hendrik and swartboy had gone, but apparently beyond them. it resembled a dun-coloured mist or smoke, as if the plain at a great distance was on fire! could that be so? had some one fired the _karoo_ bushes? or was it a cloud of dust? the wind was hardly strong enough to raise such a dust, and yet it had that appearance. was it caused by animals? might it not be the dust raised by a great herd of antelopes,--a migration of the springboks, for instance? it extended for miles along the horizon, but von bloom knew that these creatures often travel in flocks of greater extent than miles. still he could not think it was that. he continued to gaze at the strange phenomenon, endeavouring to account for it in various ways. it seemed to be rising higher against the blue sky--now resembling dust, now like the smoke of a widely-spread conflagration, and now like a reddish cloud. it was in the west, and already the setting sun was obscured by it. it had passed over the sun's disc like a screen, and his light no longer fell upon the plain. was it the forerunner of some terrible storm?--of an earthquake? such a thought crossed the mind of the field-cornet. it was not like an ordinary cloud,--it was not like a cloud of dust,--it was not like smoke. it was like nothing he had ever witnessed before. no wonder that he became anxious and apprehensive. all at once the dark-red mass seemed to envelope the cattle upon the plain, and these could be seen running to and fro as if affrighted. then the two riders disappeared under its dun shadow! von bloom rose to his feet, now seriously alarmed. what could it mean? the exclamation to which he gave utterance brought little truey and totty from the house; and hans with jan had now got back with the sheep and goats. all saw the singular phenomenon, but none of them could tell what it was. all were in a state of alarm. as they stood gazing, with hearts full of fear, the two riders appeared coming out of the cloud, and then they were seen to gallop forward over the plain in the direction of the house. they came on at full speed, but long before they had got near, the voice of swartboy could be heard crying out,-- "baas von bloom! _da springhaans are comin_!--_da springhaan_!--_da springhaan_!" chapter three. the "springhaan." "ah! the _springhaan_!" cried von bloom, recognising the dutch name for the far-famed migratory locust. the mystery was explained. the singular cloud that was spreading itself over the plain was neither more nor less than a flight of locusts! it was a sight that none of them, except swartboy, had ever witnessed before. his master had often seen locusts in small quantities, and of several species,--for there are many kinds of these singular insects in south africa. but that which now appeared was a true migratory locust (_gryllus devastatorius_); and upon one of its great migrations--an event of rarer occurrence than travellers would have you believe. swartboy knew them well; and, although he announced their approach in a state of great excitement, it was not the excitement of terror. quite the contrary. his great thick lips were compressed athwart his face in a grotesque expression of joy. the instincts of his wild race were busy within him. to them a flight of locusts is not an object of dread, but a source of rejoicing--their coming as welcome as a _take_ of shrimps to a leigh fisherman, or harvest to the husbandman. the dogs, too, barked and howled with joy, and frisked about as if they were going out upon a hunt. on perceiving the cloud, their instinct enabled them easily to recognise the locusts. they regarded them with feelings similar to those that stirred swartboy--for both dogs and bushmen eat the insects with avidity! at the announcement that it was only locusts, all at once recovered from their alarm. little truey and jan laughed, clapped their hands, and waited with curiosity until they should come nearer. all had heard enough of locusts to know that they were only grasshoppers that neither bit nor stung any one, and therefore no one was afraid of them. even von bloom himself was at first very little concerned about them. after his feelings of apprehension, the announcement that it was a flight of locusts was a relief, and for a while he did not dwell upon the nature of such a phenomenon, but only regarded it with feelings of curiosity. of a sudden his thoughts took a new direction. his eye rested upon his fields of maize and buckwheat, upon his garden of melons, and fruits, and vegetables: a new alarm seized upon him; the memory of many stories which he had heard in relation to these destructive creatures rushed into his mind, and as the whole truth developed itself, he turned pale, and uttered new exclamations of alarm. the children changed countenance as well. they saw that their father suffered; though they knew not why. they gathered inquiringly around him. "alas! alas! lost! lost!" exclaimed he; "yes, all our crop--our labour of the year--gone, gone! o my dear children!" "how lost, father?--how gone?" exclaimed several of them in a breath. "see the springhaan! they will eat up our crop--all--all!" "'tis true, indeed," said hans, who being a great student had often read accounts of the devastations committed by the locusts. the joyous countenances of all once more wore a sad expression, and it was no longer with curiosity that they gazed upon the distant cloud, that so suddenly had clouded their joy. von bloom had good cause for dread. should the swarm come on, and settle upon his fields, farewell to his prospects of a harvest. they would strip the verdure from his whole farm in a twinkling. they would leave neither seed, nor leaf, nor stalk, behind them. all stood watching the flight with painful emotions. the swarm was still a full half-mile distant. they appeared to be coming no nearer,-- good! a ray of hope entered the mind of the field-cornet. he took off his broad felt hat, and held it up to the full stretch of his arm. the wind was blowing _from the north_, and the swarm was directly _to the west_ of the kraal. the cloud of locusts had approached from the north, as they almost invariably do in the southern parts of africa. "yes," said hendrik, who having been in their midst could tell what way they were drifting, "they came down upon us from a northerly direction. when we headed our horses homewards, we soon galloped out from them, and they did not appear to fly after us; i am sure they were passing southwards." von bloom entertained hopes that as none appeared due north of the kraal, the swarm might pass on without extending to the borders of his farm. he knew that they usually followed the direction of the wind. unless the wind changed they would not swerve from their course. he continued to observe them anxiously. he saw that the selvedge of the cloud came no nearer. his hopes rose. his countenance grew brighter. the children noticed this and were glad, but said nothing. all stood silently watching. an odd sight it was. there was not only the misty swarm of the insects to gaze upon. the air above them was filled with birds--strange birds and of many kinds. on slow, silent wing soared the brown "oricou," the largest of africa's vultures; and along with him the yellow "chasse fiente," the vulture of kolbe. there swept the bearded "lamvanger," on broad extended wings. there shrieked the great "caffre eagle," and side by side with him the short-tailed and singular "bateleur." there, too, were hawks of different sizes and colours, and kites cutting through the air, and crows and ravens, and many species of _insectivora_. but far more numerous than all the rest could be seen the little _springhaan-vogel_, a speckled bird of nearly the size and form of a swallow. myriads of these darkened the air above--hundreds of them continually shooting down among the insects, and soaring up again, each with a victim in its beak. "locust-vultures" are these creatures named, though not vultures in kind. they feed exclusively on these insects, and are never seen where the locusts are not. they follow them through all their migrations, building their nests, and rearing their young, in the midst of their prey! it was, indeed, a curious sight to look upon, that swarm of winged insects, and their numerous and varied enemies; and all stood gazing upon it with feelings of wonder. still the living cloud approached no nearer, and the hopes of von bloom continued to rise. the swarm kept extending to the south--in fact, it now stretched along the whole western horizon; and all noticed that it was gradually getting lower down--that is, its top edge was sinking in the heavens. were the locusts passing off to the west? no. "da am goin' roost for da nacht--now we'll get 'em in bagfull," said swartboy, with a pleased look; for swartboy was a regular locust-eater, as fond of them as either eagle or kite,--ay, as the "springhaan-vogel" itself. it was as swartboy had stated. the swarm was actually settling down on the plain. "can't fly without sun," continued the bushman. "too cold now. dey go dead till da mornin." and so it was. the sun had set. the cool breeze weakened the wings of the insect travellers, and they were compelled to make halt for the night upon the trees, bushes, and grass. in a few minutes the dark mist that had hid the blue rim of the sky, was seen no more; but the distant plain looked as if a fire had swept over it. it was thickly covered with the bodies of the insects, that gave it a blackened appearance, as far as the eye could reach. the attendant birds, perceiving the approach of night, screamed for awhile, and then scattered away through the heavens. some perched upon the rocks, while others went to roost among the low thickets of mimosa; and now for a short interval both earth and air were silent. von bloom now bethought him of his cattle. their forms were seen afar off in the midst of the locust-covered plain. "let 'em feed um little while, baas," suggested swartboy. "on what?" inquired his master. "don't you see the grass is covered!" "on de springhaan demself, baas," replied the bushman; "good for fatten big ox--better dan grass--ya, better dan _mealies_." but it was too late to leave the cattle longer out upon the plain. the lions would soon be abroad--the sooner because of the locusts, for the king of the beasts does not disdain to fill his royal stomach with these insects--when he can find them. von bloom saw the necessity of bringing his cattle at once to their kraal. a third horse was saddled, which the field-cornet himself mounted, and rode off, followed by hendrik and swartboy. on approaching the locusts they beheld a singular sight. the ground was covered with these reddish-brown creatures, 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 they were guided by instinct to follow a particular course. nothing can interrupt them in their onward march unless the sea or some broad and rapid river. small streams they can swim across; and large ones, too, where they run sluggishly; walls and houses they can climb--even the chimneys--going straight over them; and the moment they have reached the other side of any obstacle, they continue straight onward in the old direction. "in attempting to cross broad rapid rivers, they are drowned in countless myriads, and swept off to the sea. when it is only a small migration, the farmers sometimes keep them off by means of fires, as you have heard. on the contrary, when large numbers appear, even the fires are of no avail." "but how is that, brother?" inquired hendrik. "i can understand how fires would stop the kind you speak of, since you say they are without wings. but since they are so, how do they get through the fires? jump them?" "no, not so," replied hans. "the fires are built too wide and large for that." "how then, brother?" asked hendrik. "i'm puzzled." "so am i," said little jan. "and i," added truey. "well, then," continued hans, "millions of the insects crawl into the fires and put them out!" "ho!" cried all in astonishment. "how? are they not burned?" "of course," replied hans. "they are scorched and killed--myriads of them quite burned up. but their bodies crowded thickly on the fires choke them out. the foremost ranks of the great host thus become victims, and the others pass safely across upon the holocaust thus made. so you see, even fires cannot stop the course of the locusts when they are in great numbers. "in many parts of africa, where the natives cultivate the soil, as soon as they discover a migration of these insects, and perceive that they are heading in the direction of their fields and gardens, quite a panic is produced among them. they know that they will lose their crops to a certainty, and hence dread a visitation of locusts as they would an earthquake, or some other great calamity." "we can well understand their feelings upon such an occasion," remarked hendrik, with a significant look. "the flying locusts," continued hans, "seem less to follow a particular direction than their larvae. the former seem to be guided by the wind. frequently this carries them all into the sea, where they perish in vast numbers. on some parts of the coast their dead bodies have been found washed back to land in quantities incredible. at one place the sea threw them upon the beach, until they lay piled up in a ridge four feet in height, and fifty miles in length! it has been asserted by several well-known travellers that the effluvium from this mass tainted the air to such an extent that it was perceived one hundred and fifty miles inland!" "heigh!" exclaimed little jan. "i didn't think anybody had so good a nose." at little jan's remark there was a general laugh. von bloom did not join in their merriment. he was in too serious a mood just then. "papa," inquired little truey, perceiving that her father did not laugh, and thinking to draw him into the conversation,--"papa! were these the kind of locusts eaten by john the baptist when in the desert? his food, the bible says, was `locusts and wild honey.'" "i believe these are the same," replied the father. "i think, papa," modestly rejoined hans, "they are not exactly the same, but a kindred species. the locust of scripture was the true _gryllus migratorius_, and different from those of south africa, though very similar in its habits. but," continued he, "some writers dispute that point altogether. the abyssinians say it was beans of the locust-tree, and not insects, that were the food of saint john." "what is your own opinion, hans?" inquired hendrik, who had a great belief in his brother's book-knowledge. "why, i think," replied hans, "there need be no question about it. it is only torturing the meaning of a word to suppose that saint john ate the locust fruit, and not the insect. i am decidedly of opinion that the latter is meant in scripture; and what makes me think so is, that these two kinds of food, `locusts and wild honey,' are often coupled together, as forming at the present time the subsistence of many tribes who are denizens of the desert. besides, we have good evidence that both were used as food by desert-dwelling people in the days of scripture. it is, therefore, but natural to suppose that saint john, when in the desert, was forced to partake of this food; just as many a traveller of modern times has eaten of it when crossing the deserts that surround us here in south africa. "i have read a great many books about locusts," continued hans; "and now that the bible has been mentioned, i must say for my part, i know no account given of these insects so truthful and beautiful as that in the bible itself. shall i read it, papa?" "by all means, my boy," said the field-cornet, rather pleased at the request which his son had made, and at the tenor of the conversation. little truey ran into the inner room and brought out an immense volume bound in gemsbok skin, with a couple of strong brass clasps upon it to keep it closed. this was the family bible; and here let me observe, that a similar book may be found in the house of nearly every boor, for these dutch colonists are a protestant and bible-loving people--so much so, that they think nothing of going a hundred miles, _four times in the year_, to attend the _nacht-maal_, or sacramental supper! what do you think of that? hans opened the volume, and turned at once to the book of the prophet joel. from the readiness with which he found the passage, it was evident he was well acquainted with the book he held in his hands. he read as follows:-- "a day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains; a great people and a strong: there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be any more after it, even to the years of many generations. a fire devoureth before them, and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them. the appearance of them is as the appearance of horses; and as horsemen, so shall they run. like the noise of chariots on the tops of mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong people set in battle array." "the earth shall quake before them; the heavens shall tremble; the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining." "how do the beasts groan! the herds of cattle are perplexed, because they have no pasture; yea, the flocks of sheep are made desolate." even the rude swartboy could perceive the poetic beauty of this description. but swartboy had much to say about the locusts, as well as the inspired joel. thus spoke swartboy:-- "bushman no fear da springhaan. bushman hab no garden--no maize--no buckwheat--no nothing for da springhaan to eat. bushman eat locust himself--he grow fat on da locust. ebery thing eat dem dar springhaan. ebery thing grow fat in da locust season. ho! den for dem springhaan!" these remarks of swartboy were true enough. the locusts are eaten by almost every species of animal known in south africa. not only do the _carnivora_ greedily devour them, but also animals and birds of the game kind--such as antelopes, partridges, guinea-fowls, bustards, and, strange to say, the giant of all--the huge elephant--will travel for miles to overtake a migration of locusts! domestic fowls, sheep, horses, and dogs, devour them with equal greediness. still another strange fact--the locusts eat one another! if any one of them gets hurt, so as to impede his progress, the others immediately turn upon him and eat him up! the bushmen and other native races of africa submit the locusts to a process of cookery before eating them; and during the whole evening swartboy had been engaged in preparing the bagful which he had collected. he "cooked" them thus:-- he first boiled, or rather _steamed_ them, for only a small quantity of water was put into the pot. this process lasted two hours. they were then taken out, and allowed to dry; and after that shaken about in a pan, until all the legs and wings were broken off from the bodies. a winnowing process--swartboy's thick lips acting as a fan--was next gone through; and the legs and wings were thus got rid of. the locusts were then ready for eating. a little salt only was required to render them more palatable, when all present made trial of, and some of the children even liked them. by many, locusts prepared in this way are considered quite equal to shrimps! sometimes they are pounded when quite dry into a sort of meal, and with water added to them, are made into a kind of stir-about. when well dried, they will keep for a long time; and they frequently form the only store of food, which the poorer natives have to depend upon for a whole season. among many tribes--particularly among those who are not agricultural-- the coming of the locusts is a source of rejoicing. these people turn out with sacks, and often with pack-oxen to collect and bring them to their villages; and on such occasions vast heaps of them are accumulated and stored, in the same way as grain! conversing of these things the night passed on until it was time for going to bed. the field-cornet went out once again to observe the wind; and then the door of the little kraal was closed and the family retired to rest. chapter five. the locust-flight. the field-cornet slept but little. anxiety kept him awake. he turned and tossed, and thought of the locusts. he napped at intervals, and dreamt about locusts, and crickets, and grasshoppers, and all manner of great long-legged, goggle-eyed insects. he was glad when the first ray of light penetrated through the little window of his chamber. he sprang to his feet; and, scarce staying to dress himself, rushed out into the open air. it was still dark, but he did not require to see the wind. he did not need to toss a feather or hold up his hat. the truth was too plain. a strong breeze was blowing--it was blowing _from the west_! half distracted, he ran farther out to assure himself. he ran until clear of the walls that enclosed the kraals and garden. he halted and felt the air. alas! his first impression was correct. the breeze blew directly from the west--directly from the locusts. he could perceive the effluvium borne from the hateful insects: there was no longer cause to doubt. groaning in spirit, von bloom returned to his house. he had no longer any hope of escaping the terrible visitation. his first directions were to collect all the loose pieces of linen or clothing in the house, and pack them within the family chests. what! would the locusts be likely to eat them? indeed, yes--for these voracious creatures are not fastidious. no particular vegetable seems to be chosen by them. the leaves of the bitter tobacco plant appear to be as much to their liking as the sweet and succulent blades of maize! pieces of linen, cotton, and even flannel, are devoured by them, as though they were the tender shoots of plants. stones, iron, and hard wood, are about the only objects that escape their fierce masticators. von bloom had heard this. hans had read of it, and swartboy confirmed it from his own experience. consequently, everything that was at all destructible was carefully stowed away; and then breakfast was cooked and eaten in silence. there was a gloom over the faces of all, because he who was the head of all was silent and dejected. what a change within a few hours! but the evening before the field-cornet and his little family were in the full enjoyment of happiness. there was still one hope, though a slight one. might it yet rain? or might the day turn out cold? in either case swartboy said the locusts could not take wing--for they cannot fly in cold or rainy weather. in the event of a cold or wet day they would have to remain as they were, and perhaps the wind might change round again before they resumed their flight. oh, for a torrent of rain, or a cold cloudy day! vain wish! vain hope! in half-an-hour after the sun rose up in african splendour, and his hot rays, slanting down upon the sleeping host, warmed them into life and activity. they commenced to crawl, to hop about, and then, as if by one impulse, myriads rose into the air. the breeze impelled them in the direction in which it was blowing,--in the direction of the devoted maize-fields. in less than five minutes, from the time they had taken wing, they were over the kraal, and dropping in tens of thousands upon the surrounding fields. slow was their flight, and gentle their descent, and to the eyes of those beneath they presented the appearance of a shower of _black_ snow, falling in large feathery flakes. in a few moments the ground was completely covered, until every stalk of maize, every plant and bush, carried its hundreds. on the outer plains too, as far as eye could see, the pasture was strewed thickly; and as the great flight had now passed to the eastward of the house, the sun's disk was again hidden by them as if by an eclipse! they seemed to move in a kind of _echellon_, the bands in the rear constantly flying to the front, and then halting to feed, until in turn these were headed by others that had advanced over them in a similar manner. the noise produced by their wings was not the least curious phenomenon; and resembled a steady breeze playing among the leaves of the forest, or the sound of a water-wheel. for two hours this passage continued. during most of that time, von bloom and his people had remained within the house, with closed doors and windows. this they did to avoid the unpleasant shower, as the creatures impelled by the breeze, often strike the cheek so forcibly as to cause a feeling of pain. moreover, they did not like treading upon the unwelcome intruders, and crushing them under their feet, which they must have done, had they moved about outside where the ground was thickly covered. many of the insects even crawled inside, through the chinks of the door and windows, and greedily devoured any vegetable substance which happened to be lying about the floor. at the end of two hours von bloom looked forth. the thickest of the flight had passed. the sun was again shining; but upon what was he shining? no longer upon green fields and a flowery garden. no. around the house, on every side, north, south, east, and west, the eye rested only on black desolation. not a blade of grass, not a leaf could be seen--even the very bark was stripped from the trees, that now stood as if withered by the hand of god! had fire swept the surface, it could not have left it more naked and desolate. there was no garden, there were no fields of maize or buckwheat, there was no longer a farm--the kraal stood in the midst of a desert! words cannot depict the emotions of the field-cornet at that moment. the pen cannot describe his painful feelings. such a change in two hours! he could scarce credit his senses--he could scarce believe in its reality. he knew that the locusts would eat up his maize, and his wheat, and the vegetables of his garden; but his fancy had fallen far short of the extreme desolation that had actually been produced. the whole landscape was metamorphosed--grass was out of the question--trees, whose delicate foliage had played in the soft breeze but two short hours before, now stood leafless, scathed by worse than winter. the very ground seemed altered in shape! he would not have known it as his own farm. most certainly had the owner been absent during the period of the locust-flight, and approached without any information of what had been passing, he would not have recognised the place of his own habitation! with the phlegm peculiar to his race, the field-cornet sat down, and remained for a long time without speech or movement. his children gathered near, and looked on--their young hearts painfully throbbing. they could not fully appreciate the difficult circumstances in which this occurrence had placed them; nor did their father himself at first. he thought only of the loss he had sustained, in the destruction of his fine crops; and this of itself, when we consider his isolated situation, and the hopelessness of restoring them, was enough to cause him very great chagrin. "gone! all gone!" he exclaimed, in a sorrowing voice. "oh! fortune-- fortune--again art thou cruel!" "papa! do not grieve," said a soft voice; "we are all alive yet, we are here by your side;" and with the words a little white hand was laid upon his shoulder. it was the hand of the beautiful truey. it seemed as if an angel had smiled upon him. he lifted the child in his arms, and in a paroxysm of fondness pressed her to his heart. that heart felt relieved. "bring me the book," said he, addressing one of the boys. the bible was brought--its massive covers were opened--a verse was chosen--and the song of praise rose up in the midst of the desert. the book was closed; and for some minutes all knelt in prayer. when von bloom again stood upon his feet, and looked around him, the desert seemed once more to "rejoice and blossom as the rose." upon the human heart such is the magic influence of resignation and humility. chapter six. "inspann and trek!" with all his confidence in the protection of a supreme being, von bloom knew that he was not to leave everything to the divine hand. that was not the religion he had been taught; and he at once set about taking measures to extricate himself from the unpleasant position in which he was placed. _unpleasant_ position! ha! it was more than unpleasant, as the field-cornet began to perceive. it was a position of _peril_! the more von bloom reflected, the more was he convinced of this. there they were, in the middle of a black naked plain, that without a green spot extended beyond the limits of vision. how much farther he could not guess; but he knew that the devastations of the migratory locust sometimes cover an area of thousands of miles! it was certain that the one that had just swept past was on a very extensive scale. it was evident he could no longer remain by his kraal. his horses, and cattle, and sheep, could not live without food; and should these perish, upon what were he and his family to subsist? he must leave the kraal. he must go in search of pasture, without loss of time,--at once. already the animals, shut up beyond their usual hour, were uttering their varied cries, impatient to be let out. they would soon hunger; and it was hard to say when food could be procured for them. there was no time to be lost. every hour was of great importance,--even minutes must not be wasted in dubious hesitation. the field-cornet spent but a few minutes in consideration. whether should he mount one of his best horses, and ride off alone in search of pasture? or whether would it not be better to "inspann" his wagon, and take everything along with him at once? he soon decided in favour of the latter course. in any case he would have been compelled to move from his present location,--to leave the kraal altogether. he might as well take everything at once. should he go out alone, it might cost him a long time to find grass and water--for both would be necessary--and, meantime, his stock would be suffering. these and other considerations decided him at once to "inspann" and "trek" away, with his wagon, his horses, his cattle, his sheep, his "household gods," and his whole family circle. "inspann and trek!" was the command: and swartboy, who was proud of the reputation he had earned as a wagon-driver, was now seen waving his bamboo whip like a great fishing-rod. "inspann and trek!" echoed swartboy, tying upon his twenty-feet lash a new cracker, which he had twisted out of the skin of the hartebeest antelope. "inspann and trek!" he repeated, making his vast whip crack like a pistol; "yes, baas, i'll inspann;" and, having satisfied himself that his "voorslag" was properly adjusted, swartboy rested the bamboo handle against the side of the house, and proceeded to the kraal to collect the yoke-oxen. a large wagon, of a sort that is the pride and property of every cape farmer, stood to one side of the house. it was a vehicle of the first class,--a regular "cap-tent" wagon,--that had been made for the field-cornet in his better days, and in which he had been used to drive his wife and children to the "nacht-maal" and upon _vrolykheids_ (parties of pleasure.) in those days a team of eight fine horses used to draw it along at a rattling rate. alas! oxen had now to take their place; for von bloom had but five horses in his whole stud, and these were required for the saddle. but the wagon was almost as good as ever it had been,--almost as good as when it used to be the envy of the field-cornet's neighbours, the boors of graaf reinet. nothing was broken. everything was in its place,--"voor-kist," and "achter-kist," and side-chests. there was the snow-white cap, with its "fore-clap" and "after-clap," and its inside pockets, all complete; and the wheels neatly carved, and the well planed boxing and "disselboom" and the strong "trektow" of buffalo-hide. nothing was wanting that ought to be found about a wagon. it was, in fact, the best part of the field-cornet's property that remained to him,--for it was equal in value to all the oxen, cattle, and sheep, upon his establishment. while swartboy, assisted by hendrik, was catching up the twelve yoke-oxen, and attaching them to the disselboom and trektow of the wagon, the "baas" himself, aided by hans, totty, and also by truey and little jan, was loading up the furniture and implements. this was not a difficult task. the _penates_ of the little kraal were not numerous, and were all soon packed either inside or around the roomy vehicle. in about an hour's time the wagon was loaded up, the oxen were inspanned, the horses saddled, and everything was ready for "trekking." and now arose the question, _whither_? up to this time von bloom had only thought of getting away from the spot--of escaping beyond the naked waste that surrounded him. it now became necessary to determine the direction in which they were to travel--a most important consideration. important, indeed, as a little reflection showed. they might go in the direction in which the locusts had gone, or that in which they had _come_? on either route they might travel for scores of miles without meeting with a mouthful of grass for the hungry animals; and in such a case these would break down and perish. or the travellers might move in some other direction, and find grass, but not water. without water, not only would they have to fear for the cattle, but for themselves--for their own lives. how important then it was, which way they turned their faces! at first the field-cornet bethought him of heading towards the settlements. the nearest water in that direction was almost fifty miles off. it lay to the eastward of the kraal. the locusts had just gone that way. they would by this time have laid waste the whole country-- perhaps to the water or beyond it! it would be a great risk going in that direction. northward lay the kalihari desert. it would be hopeless to steer north. von bloom knew of no oasis in the desert. besides the locusts had come from the north. they were drifting southward when first seen; and from the time they had been observed passing in this last direction, they had no doubt ere this wasted the plains far to the south. the thoughts of the field-cornet were now turned to the west. it is true the swarm had last approached from the west; but von bloom fancied that they had first come down from the north, and that the sudden veering round of the wind had caused them to change direction. he thought that by trekking westward he would soon get beyond the ground they had laid bare. he knew something of the plains to the west--not much indeed, but he knew that at about forty miles distance there was a spring with good pasturage around it, upon whose water he could depend. he had once visited it, while on a search for some of his cattle, that had wandered thus far. indeed, it then appeared to him a better situation for cattle than the one he held, and he had often thought of moving to it. its great distance from any civilised settlement was the reason why he had not done so. although he was already far beyond the frontier, he still kept up a sort of communication with the settlements, whereas at the more distant point such a communication would be extremely difficult. now that other considerations weighed with him, his thoughts once more returned to this spring; and after spending a few minutes more in earnest deliberation, he decided upon "trekking" westward. swartboy was ordered to head round, and strike to the west. the bushman promptly leaped to his seat upon the voor-kist, cracked his mighty whip, straightened out his long team, and moved off over the plain. hans and hendrik were already in their saddles; and having cleared the kraals of all their live-stock, with the assistance of the dogs, drove the lowing and bleating animals before them. truey and little jan sat beside swartboy on the fore-chest of the wagon; and the round full eyes of the pretty springbok could be seen peeping curiously out from under the cap-tent. casting a last look upon his desolate kraal, the field-cornet turned his horse's head, and rode after the wagon. chapter seven. "water! water!" on moved the little caravan, but not in silence. swartboy's voice and whip made an almost continual noise. the latter could be plainly heard more than a mile over the plain, like repeated discharges of a musket. hendrik, too, did a good deal in the way of shouting; and even the usually quiet hans was under the necessity of using his voice to urge the flock forward in the right direction. occasionally both the boys were called upon to give swartboy a help with the leading oxen when these became obstinate or restive, and would turn out of the track. at such times either hans or hendrik would gallop up, set the heads of the animals right again, and ply the "jamboks" upon their sides. this "jambok" is a severe chastener to an obstinate ox. it is an elastic whip made of rhinoceros or hippopotamus skin,--hippopotamus is the best,--near six feet long, and tapering regularly from butt to tip. whenever the led oxen misbehaved, and swartboy could not reach them with his long "voorslag," hendrik was ever ready to tickle them with his tough jambok; and, by this means, frighten them into good behaviour. indeed, one of the boys was obliged to be at their head nearly all the time. a "leader" is used to accompany most teams of oxen in south africa. but those of the field-cornet had been accustomed to draw the wagon without one, ever since the hottentot servants fan away; and swartboy had driven many miles with no other help than his long whip. but the strange look of everything, since the locusts passed, had made the oxen shy and wild; besides the insects had obliterated every track or path which oxen would have followed. the whole surface was alike,--there was neither trace nor mark. even von bloom himself could with difficulty recognise the features of the country, and had to guide himself by the sun in the sky. hendrik stayed mostly by the head of the leading oxen. hans had no difficulty in driving the flock when once fairly started. a sense of fear kept all together, and as there was no herbage upon any side to tempt them to stray, they moved regularly on. von bloom rode in front to guide the caravan. neither he nor any of them had made any change in their costume, but travelled in their everyday dress. the field-cornet himself was habited after the manner of most boors,--in wide leathern trousers, termed in that country "crackers;" a large roomy jacket of green cloth, with ample outside pockets; a fawn-skin waistcoat; a huge white felt hat, with the broadest of brims; and upon his feet a pair of brogans of african unstained leather, known among the boors as "feldt-schoenen" (country shoes). over his saddle lay a "kaross," or robe of leopard-skins, and upon his shoulder he carried his "roer"--a large smoothbore gun, about six feet in length, with an old-fashioned flint-lock,--quite a load of itself. this is the gun in which the boor puts all his trust; and although an american backwoodsman would at first sight be disposed to laugh at such a weapon, a little knowledge of the boor's country would change his opinion of the "roer." his own weapon--the small-bore rifle, with a bullet less than a pea--would be almost useless among the large game that inhabits the country of the boor. upon the "karoos" of africa there are crack shots and sterling hunters, as well as in the backwoods or on the prairies of america. curving round under the field-cornet's left arm, and resting against his side, was an immense powder-horn--of such size as could only be produced upon the head of an african ox. it was from the country of the bechuanas, though nearly all cape oxen grow horns of vast dimensions. of course it was used to carry the field-cornet's powder, and, if full, it must have contained half-a-dozen pounds at least! a leopard-skin pouch hanging under his right arm, a hunting-knife stuck in his waist-belt, and a large meerschaum pipe through the band of his hat, completed the equipments of the trek-boor, von bloom. hans and hendrik were very similarly attired, armed, and equipped. of course their trousers were of dressed sheep-skin, wide--like the trousers of all young boors--and they also wore jackets and "feldt-schoenen," and broad-brimmed white hats. hans carried a light fowling-piece, while hendrik's gun was a stout rifle of the kind known as a "yager"--an excellent gun for large game. in this piece hendrik had great pride, and had learnt to drive a nail with it at nearly a hundred paces. hendrik was _par excellence_ the marksman of the party. each of the boys also carried a large crescent-shaped powder-horn, with a pouch for bullets; and over the saddle of each was strapped the robe or kaross, differing only from their father's in that his was of the rarer leopard-skin, while theirs were a commoner sort, one of antelope, and the other of jackal-skin. little jan also wore wide trousers, jacket, "feldt-schoenen," and broad-brimmed beaver,--in fact, jan, although scarce a yard high, was, in point of costume, a type of his father,--a diminutive type of the boor. truey was habited in a skirt of blue woollen stuff, with a neat bodice elaborately stitched and embroidered after the dutch fashion, and over her fair locks she wore a light sun-hat of straw with a ribbon and strings. totty was very plainly attired in strong homespun, without any head-dress. as for swartboy, a pair of old leathern "crackers" and a striped shirt were all the clothing he carried, beside his sheep-skin kaross. such were the costumes of our travellers. for full twenty miles the plain was wasted bare. not a bite could the beasts obtain, and water there was none. the sun during the day shone brightly,--too brightly, for his beams were as hot as within the tropics. the travellers could scarce have borne them had it not been that a stiff breeze was blowing all day long. but this unfortunately blew directly in their faces, and the dry karoos are never without dust. the constant hopping of the locusts with their millions of tiny feet had loosened the crust of earth; and now the dust rose freely upon the wind. clouds of it enveloped the little caravan, and rendered their forward movement both difficult and disagreeable. long before night their clothes were covered, their mouths filled, and their eyes sore. but all that was nothing. long before night a far greater grievance was felt,--the want of water. in their hurry to escape from the desolate scene at the kraal, von bloom had not thought of bringing a supply in the wagon--a sad oversight, in a country like south africa, where springs are so rare, and running streams so uncertain. a sad oversight indeed, as they now learnt--for long before night they were all crying out for water--all were equally suffering from the pangs of thirst. von bloom thirsted, but he did not think of himself, except that he suffered from self-accusation. he blamed himself for neglecting to bring a needful supply of water. he was the cause of the sufferings of all the rest. he felt sad and humbled on account of his thoughtless negligence. he could promise them no relief--at least none until they should reach the spring. he knew of no water nearer. it would be impossible to reach the spring that night. it was late when they started. oxen travel slowly. half the distance would be as much as they could make by sundown. to reach the water they would have to travel all night; but they could not do that for many reasons. the oxen would require to rest--the more so that they were hungered; and now von bloom thought, when too late, of another neglect he had committed--that was, in not collecting, during the flight of the locusts, a sufficient quantity of them to have given his cattle a feed. this plan is often adopted under similar circumstances; but the field-cornet had not thought of it: and as but few locusts fell in the kraals where the animals had been confined, they had therefore been without food since the previous day. the oxen in particular showed symptoms of weakness, and drew the wagon sluggishly; so that swartboy's voice and long whip were kept in constant action. but there were other reasons why they would have to halt when night came on. the field-cornet was not so sure of the direction. he would not be able to follow it by night, as there was not the semblance of a track to guide him. besides it would be dangerous to travel by night, for then the nocturnal robber of africa--the fierce lion--is abroad. they would be under the necessity, therefore, of halting for the night, water or no water. it wanted yet half-an-hour of sundown when von bloom had arrived at this decision. he only kept on a little farther in hopes of reaching a spot where there was grass. they were now more than twenty miles from their starting-point, and still the black "spoor" of the locusts covered the plain. still no grass to be seen, still the bushes bare of their leaves, and barked! the field-cornet began to think that he was trekking right in the way the locusts had come. westward he was heading for certain; he knew that. but he was not yet certain that the flight had not advanced from the west instead of the north. if so, they might go for days before coming upon a patch of grass! these thoughts troubled him, and with anxious eyes he swept the plain in front, as well as to the right and left. a shout from the keen-eyed bushman produced a joyful effect. he saw grass in front. he saw some bushes with leaves! they were still a mile off, but the oxen, as if the announcement had been understood by them, moved more briskly forward. another mile passed over, and they came upon grass, sure enough. it was a very scanty pasture, though--a few scattered blades growing ever the reddish surface, but in no place a mouthful for an ox. there was just enough to tantalise the poor brutes without filling their stomachs. it assured von bloom, however, that they had now got beyond the track of the locusts; and he kept on a little farther in hopes that the pasture might get better. it did not, however. the country through which they advanced was a wild, sterile plain--almost as destitute of vegetation as that over which they had hitherto been travelling. it no longer owed its nakedness to the locusts, but to the absence of water. they had no more time to search for pasture. the sun was already below the horizon when they halted to "outspann." a "kraal" should have been built for the cattle, and another for the sheep and goats. there were bushes enough to have constructed them, but who of that tired party had the heart to cut them down and drag them to the spot? it was labour enough--the slaughtering a sheep for supper, and collecting sufficient wood to cook it. no kraal was made. the horses were tied around the wagon. the oxen, cattle, and sheep and goats, were left free to go where they pleased. as there was no pasture near to tempt them, it was hoped that, after the fatigue of their long journey, they would not stray far from the camp-fire, which was kept burning throughout the night. chapter eight. the fate of the hero. but they _did_ stray. when day broke, and the travellers looked around them, not a head of the oxen or cattle was to be seen. yes, there was one, and one only--the milch-cow. totty, after milking her on the previous night, had left her tied to a bush where she still remained. all the rest were gone, and the sheep and goats as well. whither had they strayed? the horses were mounted, and search was made. the sheep and goats were found among some bushes not far off; but it soon appeared that the other animals had gone clean away. their spoor was traced for a mile or two. it led back on the very track they had come; and no doubt any longer existed that they had returned to the kraal. to overtake them before reaching that point, would be difficult, if at all possible. their tracks showed that they had gone off early in the night, and had travelled at a rapid rate--so that by this time they had most likely arrived at their old home. this was a sad discovery. to have followed them on the thirsting and hungry horses would have been a useless work; yet without the yoke-oxen how was the wagon to be taken forward to the spring? it appeared to be a sad dilemma they were in; but after a short consultation the thoughtful hans suggested a solution of it. "can we not attach the horses to the wagon?" inquired he. "the five could surely draw it on to the spring?" "what! and leave the cattle behind?" said hendrik. "if we do not go after them, they will be all lost, and then--" "we could go for them afterwards," replied hans; "but is it not better first to push forward to the spring; and, after resting the horses a while, return then for the oxen? they will have reached the kraal by this time. there they will be sure of water anyhow, and that will keep them alive till we get there." the course suggested by hans seemed feasible enough. at all events, it was the best plan they could pursue; so they at once set about putting it in execution. the horses were attached to the wagon in the best way they could think of. fortunately some old horse-harness formed part of the contents of the vehicle, and these were brought out and fitted on, as well as could be done. two horses were made fast to the disselboom as "wheelers;" two others to the trektow cut to the proper length; and the fifth horse was placed in front as a leader. when all was ready, swartboy again mounted the voor-kist, gathered up his reins, cracked his whip, and set his team in motion. to the delight of every one, the huge heavy-laden wagon moved off as freely as if a full team had been inspanned. von bloom, hendrik, and hans, cheered as it passed them; and setting the milch-cow and the flock of sheep and goats in motion, moved briskly after. little jan and truey still rode in the wagon; but the others now travelled afoot, partly because they had the flock to drive, and partly that they might not increase the load upon the horses. they all suffered greatly from thirst, but they would have suffered still more had it not been for that valuable creature that trotted along behind the wagon--the cow--"old graaf," as she was called. she had yielded several pints of milk, both the night before and that morning; and this well-timed supply had given considerable relief to the travellers. the horses behaved beautifully. notwithstanding that their harness was both incomplete and ill fitted, they pulled the wagon along after them as if not a strap or buckle had been wanting. they appeared to know that their kind master was in a dilemma, and were determined to draw him out of it. perhaps, too, they smelt the spring-water before them. at all events, before they had been many hours in harness, they were drawing the wagon through a pretty little valley covered with green, meadow-looking sward; and in five minutes more were standing halted near a cool crystal spring. in a short time all had drunk heartily, and were refreshed. the horses were turned out upon the grass, and the other animals browsed over the meadow. a good fire was made near the spring, and a quarter of mutton cooked--upon which the travellers dined--and then all sat waiting for the horses to fill themselves. the field-cornet, seated upon one of the wagon-chests, smoked his great pipe. he could have been contented, but for one thing--the absence of his cattle. he had arrived at a beautiful pasture-ground--a sort of oasis in the wild plains, where there were wood, water, and grass,--everything that the heart of a "vee-boor" could desire. it did not appear to be a large tract, but enough to have sustained many hundred head of cattle--enough for a very fine "stock farm." it would have answered his purpose admirably; and had he succeeded in bringing on his oxen and cattle, he would at that moment have felt happy enough. but without them what availed the fine pasturage? what could he do there without them to stock it? they were his wealth--at least, he had hoped in time that their increase would become wealth. they were all of excellent breeds; and, with the exception of his twelve yoke-oxen, and one or two long-horned bechuana bulls, all the others were fine young cows calculated soon to produce a large herd. of course his anxiety about these animals rendered it impossible for him to enjoy a moment's peace of mind, until he should start back in search of them. he had only taken out his pipe to pass the time, while the horses were gathering a bite of grass. as soon as their strength should be recruited a little, it was his design to take three of the strongest of them, and with hendrik and swartboy, ride back to the old kraal. as soon, therefore, as the horses were ready for the road again, they were caught and saddled up; and von bloom, hendrik, and swartboy, mounted and set out, while hans remained in charge of the camp. they rode at a brisk rate, determined to travel all night, and, if possible, reach the kraal before morning. at the last point on the route where there was grass, they off-saddled, and allowed their horses to rest and refresh themselves. they had brought with them some slices of the roast mutton, and this time they had not forgotten to fill their gourd-canteens with water--so that they should not again suffer from thirst. after an hour's halt they continued their journey. it was quite night when they arrived at the spot where the oxen had deserted them; but a clear moon was in the sky, and they were able to follow back the wheel-tracks of the wagon, that were quite conspicuous under the moonlight. now and then to be satisfied, von bloom requested swartboy to examine the spoor, and see whether the cattle had still kept the back-track. to answer this gave no great trouble to the bushman. he would drop from his horse, and bending over the ground, would reply in an instant. in every case the answer was in the affirmative. the animals had certainly gone back to their old home. von bloom believed they would be sure to find them there, but should they find them _alive_? that was the question that rendered him anxious. the creatures could obtain water by the spring, but food--where? not a bite would they find anywhere, and would not hunger have destroyed them all before this? day was breaking when they came in sight of the old homestead. it presented a very odd appearance. not one of the three would have recognised it. after the invasion of the locusts it showed a very altered look, but now there was something else that added to the singularity of its appearance. a row of strange objects seemed to be placed upon the roof ridge, and along the walls of the kraals. what were these strange objects, for they certainly did not belong to the buildings? this question was put by von bloom, partly to himself, but loud enough for the others to hear him. "_da vogels_!" (the vultures), replied swartboy. sure enough, it was a string of vultures that appeared along the walls. the sight of these filthy birds was more than ominous. it filled von bloom with apprehension. what could they be doing there? there must be carrion near? the party rode forward. the day was now up, and the vultures had grown busy. they flapped their shadowy wings, rose from the walls, and alighted at different points around the house. "surely there must be carrion," muttered von bloom. there _was_ carrion, and plenty of it. as the horsemen drew near the vultures rose into the air, and a score of half-devoured carcasses could be seen upon the ground. the long curving horns that appeared beside each carcass, rendered it easy to tell to what sort of animals they belonged. in the torn and mutilated fragments, von bloom recognised the remains of his lost herd! not one was left alive. there could be seen the remains of all of them, both cows and oxen, lying near the enclosures and on the adjacent plain--each where it had fallen. but how had they fallen? that was the mystery. surely they could not have perished of hunger, and so suddenly? they could not have died of thirst, for there was the spring bubbling up just beside where they lay? the vultures had not killed them! what then? von bloom did not ask many questions. he was not left long in doubt. as he and his companions rode over the ground, the mystery was explained. the tracks of lions, hyenas, and jackals, made everything clear enough. a large troop of these animals had been upon the ground. the scarcity of game, caused by the migration of the locusts, had no doubt rendered them more than usually ravenous, and in consequence the cattle became their prey. where were they now? the morning light, and the sight of the house perhaps, had driven them off. but their spoor was quite fresh. they were near at hand, and would be certain to return again upon the following night. von bloom felt a strong desire to be revenged upon the hideous brutes; and, under other circumstances, would have remained to get a shot at them. but just then that would have been both imprudent and unprofitable work. it would be as much as their horses could accomplish, to get back to camp that night; so, without even entering the old house, they watered their animals, refilled their calabashes at the spring, and with heavy hearts once more rode away from the kraal. chapter nine. a lion "couchant." they had not proceeded an hundred steps when an object appeared before them that caused all three to draw bridle suddenly and simultaneously. that object was a lion! he was couched upon the plain directly in the path they intended to take--the very same path by which they had come! how was it they had not seen him before? he was under the lee of a low bush; but, thanks to the locusts, this bush was leafless, and its thin naked twigs formed no concealment for so large a creature as a lion. his tawny hide shone conspicuously through them. the truth is, he had not been there when the horsemen passed towards the kraal. he had just fled from among the carcasses, on seeing them approach; and had skulked around the walls, and then run to their rear. he had executed this manoeuvre to avoid an encounter--for a lion reasons as a man does, though not to the same extent. seeing the horsemen come that way, his reasoning powers were strong enough to tell him that they were not likely to return by the same path. it was more natural they should continue on. a man, ignorant of all the preceding events connected with their journey would have reasoned much in the same way. if you have been at all observant, you have seen other animals--such as dogs, deer, hares, or even birds--act just as the lion did on this occasion. beyond a doubt the intellectual process described passed through the mind of this lion; and he had skulked round to shun an encounter with the three travellers. now a lion will not always act so--though he will in five cases out of six, or oftener. hence very erroneous views are held in relation to the courage of this animal. some naturalists, led away by what appears to be a feeling of envy or anger, accuse the lion of downright _cowardice_, denying him a single noble quality of all those that have from earliest times been ascribed to him! others, on the contrary, assert that he knows no fear, either of man or beast; and these endow him with many virtues besides courage. both parties back up their views, not by mere assertions, but by an ample narration of well-attested facts! how is this? there is a dilemma here. both cannot be right in their opinions? and yet, odd as it may appear to say so, both _are_ right in a certain sense. the fact is, _some lions are cowardly, while others are brave_. the truth of this might be shown by whole pages of facts, but in this little volume we have not room. i think, however, boy reader, i can satisfy you with an analogy. answer me--do you know any species of animal, the individuals of which are exactly alike in character? think over the dogs _of your acquaintance_! are they alike, or anything near it? are not some of them noble, generous, faithful, brave to the death? are not others mean, sneaking, cowardly curs? so is it with lions. now, you are satisfied that my statement about the lions may be true. there are many causes to affect the courage and ferocity of the lion. his age--the state of his stomach--the season of the year--the hour of the day--but, above all, the _sort of hunters that belong to the district he inhabits_. this last fact appears quite natural to those who believe in the _intellect_ of animals, which of course _i_ do. it is perfectly natural that the lion, as well as other animals, should soon learn the character of his enemy, and fear him or not, as the case may be. is this not an old story with us? if i remember aright, we had a talk upon this subject when speaking of the crocodiles of america. we remarked that the alligator of the mississippi rarely attacks man in modern times; but it has not been always so. the rifle of the alligator-leather hunter has tamed its ferocity. the very _same species_ in south america eats indians by scores every year; and the crocodile of africa is dreaded in some parts even more than the lion! it is asserted that the lions of the cape are more cowardly in some districts than in others. they are less brave in those districts where they have been "jaged" by the courageous and stalwart boor with his long loud-cracking "roer." beyond the frontier, where they have no enemy but the tiny arrow of the bushman (who does not desire to kill them!) and the slender "assegai" of the bechuana, the lion has little or no fear of man. whether the one, before the eyes of our party, was naturally a brave one, could not yet be told. he was one with a huge black mane, or "schwart-fore life," as the boors term it; and these are esteemed the fiercest and most dangerous. the "yellow-maned,"--for there is considerable variety in the colour of the cape lions--is regarded as possessing less courage; but there is some doubt about the truth of this. the young "black-manes" may often be mistaken for the true yellow variety, and their character ascribed to him to his prejudice,--for the swarthy colour of the mane only comes after the lion is many years of age. whether the "schwart-fore life" was a fierce and brave one, von bloom did not stay to think about. it was evident that the edge had been taken off the animal's appetite. it was evident he did not meditate an attack; and that had the horsemen chosen to make a detour, and ride peacefully away, they might have continued their journey without ever seeing or hearing of him again. but the field-cornet had no such intention. he had lost his precious oxen and cattle. _that_ lion had pulled down some of them, at least. the dutch blood was up, and if the beast had been the strongest and fiercest of his tribe, he was bound to be brought out of that bush. ordering the others to remain where they were, von bloom advanced on horseback until within about fifty paces of where the lion lay. here he drew up, coolly dismounted, passed the bridle over his arm, stuck his loading-rod into the ground, and knelt down behind it. you will fancy he would have been safer to have kept his saddle, as the lion cannot overtake a horse. true; but the lion would have been safer too. it is no easy matter to fire correctly from any horse, but when the mark happens to be a grim lion, he is a well-trained steed that will stand sufficiently firm to admit of a true aim. a shot from the saddle under such circumstances is a mere chance shot; and the field-cornet was not in the mood to be satisfied with a chance shot. laying his roer athwart the loading-rod, and holding the long barrel steady against it, he took deliberate aim through the ivory sights. during all this time the lion had not stirred. the bush was between him and the hunter; but he could hardly have believed that it sufficed to conceal him. far from it. his yellow flanks were distinctly visible through the thorny twigs, and his head could be seen with his muzzle and whiskers stained red with the blood of the oxen. no--he did not believe himself hid. a slight growl, with one or two shakes of his tail, proved the contrary. he lay still however, as lions usually do, until more nearly approached. the hunter, as already stated, was full fifty yards from him. excepting the motion of his tail, he made no other till von bloom pulled trigger; and then with a scream he sprang several feet into the air. the hunter had been afraid of the twigs causing his bullet to glance off; but it was plain it had told truly, for he saw the fur fly from the side of that lion where it struck him. it was but a wound; and not deadly, as soon appeared. with long bounds the angry brute came on--lashing his tail, and showing his fearful teeth. his mane, now on end, seemed to have doubled his size. he looked as large as a bull! in a _few_ seconds time he had crossed the distance that separated him from the hunter, but the latter was gone far from that spot. the moment he had delivered his fire, he leaped upon his well-trained horse, and rode off towards the others. all three were for a short while together--hendrik holding his yager cocked and ready, while swartboy grasped his bow and arrows. but the lion dashed forward before either could fire; and they were obliged to spur and gallop out of his way. swartboy had ridden to one side, while von bloom and hendrik took the other; and the game was now between the two parties--both of which had pulled up at some distance off. the lion, after the failure of his charge, halted, and looked first at one, then at the other--as if uncertain which to pursue. his appearance at this moment was terrible beyond expression. his whole fierce nature was roused. his mane stood erect--his tail lasher his flanks--his mouth, widely open, showed the firm-set trenchant teeth-- their white spikes contrasting with the red blood that clotted his cheeks and snout, while his angry roaring added horror to his appearance. but none of the three were terrified out of their senses. hendrik at this moment covered him with his rifle, took cool aim, and fired; while at the same instant swartboy sent an arrow whistling through the air. both had aimed truly. both bullet and arrow struck; and the shaft of the latter could be seen sticking in the lion's thigh. the fierce brute that up to this time had exhibited the most determined courage, now seemed overcome with a sudden fear. either the arrow or one of the bullets must have sickened him with the combat; for, dropping his mop-like tail to a level with the line of his back, he broke away; and, trotting sulkily forward, sprang in at the door of the kraal! chapter ten. a lion in the trap. there was something singular in the lion seeking shelter in so unusual a place; but it showed his sagacity. there was no other cover within convenient distance, and to have reached any bush that would have afforded him concealment, since the passage of the locusts, would have been difficult. the mounted hunters could easily have overtaken him, had he attempted to run off. he was aware that the house was uninhabited. he had been prowling around it all the night--perhaps within it--and therefore knew what sort of place it was. the brute's instinct was correct. the walls of the house would protect him from the guns of his enemies at a distance; and for these to approach near would be his advantage and their danger. an odd incident occurred as the lion entered the kraal. there was a large window in one end of the house. of course it was not glazed--it never had been. a glass window is a rarity in these parts. a strong wooden shutter alone closed it. this was still hanging on its hinges, but in the hurried "flitting," the window had been left open. the door also had been standing ajar. as the lion sprang in at the latter, a string of small foxy wolf-like creatures came pouring out through the former, and ran with all their might across the plain. they were jackals! as it afterwards appeared, one of the oxen had been chased into the house either by lions or hyenas, and killed there. his carcass had been overlooked by the larger carnivora, and the cunning jackals had been making a quiet breakfast upon it, when so unceremoniously disturbed. the entrance of their terrible king in such angry mood, by the door, caused the fox-wolves to beat a quick retreat by the window; and the appearance of the horsemen without had still further frightened these cowardly brutes, so that they ran away from the kraal at top speed, and never halted until they were out of sight. the three hunters could not restrain a laugh; but their tone was suddenly changed by another incident that happened almost at the same moment. von bloom had brought with him his two fine dogs, to assist in driving back the cattle. during the short halt the party had made by the spring, these had fastened upon a half-eaten carcass behind the walls; and, being extremely hungry, had stuck to it, even after the horsemen, had ridden off. neither of the dogs had seen the lion, until the moment when the savage brute charged forward, and was making for the kraal. the shots, the growling of the lion, and the loud wings of the vultures as they flew off affrighted, told the dogs that something was going on in front, at which they ought to be present; and, forsaking their pleasant meal, both came bounding over the walls. they reached the open space in front, just as the lion leaped into the door; and without hesitation the brave noble animals rushed on, and followed him inside the house. for some moments there was heard a confused chorus of noises--the barking and worrying of the dogs, the growling and roaring of the lion. then a dull sound followed as of some heavy object dashed against the wall. then came a mournful howl--another, another--a noise like the cracking of bones--the "purr" of the great brute with its loud rough bass--and then a deep silence. the struggle was over. this was evident, as the dogs no longer gave tongue. most likely they were killed. the hunters remained watching the door with feelings of intense anxiety. the laugh had died upon their lips, as they listened to those hideous sounds, the signs of the fearful combat. they called their dogs by name. they hoped to see them issue forth, even if wounded. but no. the dogs came not forth--they never came forth--they were dead! a long-continued silence followed the noise of the conflict. von bloom could no longer doubt that his favourite and only dogs had been killed. excited by this new misfortune he almost lost prudence. he was about to rush forward to the door, where he might deliver his fire close to the hated enemy, when a bright idea came into the brain of swartboy; and the bushman was heard calling out,-- "baas! baas! we shut him up! we close da skellum up." there was good sense in this suggestion--there was plausibility in it. von bloom saw this; and, desisting from his previous intention, he determined to adopt swartboy's plan. but how was it to be executed? the door still hung upon its hinges, as also the window-shutter. if they could only get hold of these, and shut them fast, they would have the lion secure, and might destroy him at their leisure. but how to shut either door or window in safety? that was the difficulty that now presented itself. should they approach either, the lion would be certain to see them from within; and, enraged as he now was, would be sure to spring upon them. even if they approached on horseback to effect their purpose, they would not be much safer. the horses would not stand quiet while they stretched out to lay hold of latch or handle. all three of the animals were already dancing with excitement. they knew the lion was inside, an occasional growl announced his presence there--they would not approach either door or window with sufficient coolness; and their stamping and snorting would have the effect of bringing the angry beast out upon them. it was clear, then, that to shut either door or window would be an operation of great danger. so long as the horsemen were in open ground, and at some distance from the lion, they had no cause to fear; but should they approach near and get entangled among the walls, some one of them would be most likely to fall a victim to the ferocious brute. low as may be the standard of a bushman's intellect, there is a species of it peculiar to him in which he appears to excel. in all matters of hunter-craft, his intelligence, or instinct you might almost call it, is quite a match for the more highly--developed mind of the caucasian. this arises, no doubt, from the keen and frequent exercise of those particular faculties,--keen and frequent, because his very existence often depends on their successful employment. huge ill-shapen head as swartboy carried on his shoulders, there was an ample stock of brains in it; and a life of keen endeavour to keep his stomach supplied had taught him their exercise. at that moment swartboy's brains came to the relief of the party. "baas!" he said, endeavouring to restrain the impatience of his master, "vyacht um bige, mein baas! leave it to da ole bushy to close da door. he do it." "how?" inquired von bloom. "vyacht um bige, mein baas! no long to wait,--you see." all three had ridden up together within less than an hundred yards of the kraal. von bloom and hendrik sat silent, and watched the proceedings of the bushman. the latter drew from his pocket a clew of small cord, and, having carefully uncoiled it, attached one end to an arrow. he then rode up to within thirty yards of the house, and dismounted--not directly opposite the entrance, but a little to the one side--so that the face of the wooden door, which was fortunately but three-quarters open, was thus fair before him. keeping the bridle over his arm, he now bent his bow, and sent the arrow into the woodwork of the door. there it was, sticking near the edge, and just under the latch! as soon as swartboy delivered the shaft, he had leaped back into his saddle--to be ready for retreat in case the lion should spring out. he still, however, kept hold of the string, one end of which was attached to the arrow. the "thud" of the arrow, as it struck the door, had drawn the attention of the lion. of course, none of them saw him, but his angry growl told them that it was so. he did not show himself, however, and was again silent. swartboy now drew the string taut,--first felt it with a steady pull; and then, satisfied of its strength, gave it a stronger jerk, and brought the door to. the latch acted beautifully, and the door remained shut even after the strain was taken off the cord. to have opened the door now the lion must have had the sagacity to lift the latch, or else must have broken through the thick, strong planks-- neither of which was to be feared. but the window still remained open, and through it the lion could easily leap out. swartboy, of course, designed closing it in the same manner as he had done the door. but now arose a particular danger. he had only one piece of cord. that was attached to the arrow that still stuck fast. how was he to detach and get possession of it? there appeared to be no other way but by going up to the door and cutting it from the shaft. in this lay the danger; for, should the lion perceive him and rush out by the window, it would be all over with the bushman. like most of his race, swartboy was more cunning than brave--though he was far from being a coward. still he was by no means inclined at that moment to go up to the door of the kraal. the angry growls from within would have made a stouter heart than swartboy's quail with fear. in this dilemma hendrik came to his relief. hendrik had conceived a way of getting possession of the string, without going near the door! calling to swartboy to be on his guard, he rode within thirty yards of the entrance--but on the other side from where swartboy was--and there halted. at the place there stood a post with several forks upon it, that had been used as a bridle-post. hendrik dismounted, hooked his rein over one of these forks; rested his yager across another; and then, sighting the shaft of the arrow, pulled trigger. the rifle cracked, the broken stick was seen to fly out from the door, and the string was set free! all were ready to gallop off; but the lion, although he growled fiercely on hearing the shot, still lay close. swartboy now drew in the string; and, having adjusted it to a fresh arrow, moved round so as to command a view of the window. in a few minutes the shaft had cut through the air and stuck deep into the yielding wood, and then the shutter swung round on its hinges and was drawn close. all three now dismounted ran silently and rapidly up, and secured both door and shutter with strong reins of raw-hide. hurrah! the lion was caged! chapter eleven. the death of the lion. yes, the fierce brute was fairly in the trap. the three hunters breathed freely. but how was the affair to end? both door and window-shutter fitted strongly and closely; and, although it was possible to glance through the chinks, nothing could be seen inside--since, both being shut, it was quite dark within. even could the lion have been seen, there was no hole through which to thrust the muzzle of a gun and fire at him. he was just as safe as his captors; and, so long as the door remained closed, they could do him no more harm than he could them! they might leave him shut up, and let him starve. he could live for a while upon what the jackals had left, with the carcasses of the two dogs, but that would not sustain him long, and in the end he would have to give up and miserably perish. after all, this did not seem so certain to von bloom and his companions. finding that he was caged in earnest, the brute might attack the door, and with his sharp claws and teeth manage to cut his way through. but the angry field-cornet had not the slightest intention of leaving the lion such a chance. he was determined to destroy the beast before leaving the ground; and he now set to thinking how this could be accomplished in the speediest and most effectual manner. at first he thought of cutting a hole in the door with his knife, large enough to see through and admit the barrel of his roer. should he not succeed in getting a view of the beast through that one, he would make another in the window-shutter. the two being on adjacent sides of the house, would give him the command of the whole interior--for the former dwelling of the field-cornet comprised only a single apartment. during his residence there, there had been two, thanks to a partition of zebra-skins; but these had been removed, and all was now in one room. at first von bloom could think of no other plan to get at the enemy, and yet this one did not quite please him. it was safe enough, and, if carried out, could only end in the death of the lion. a hole in both door and window-shutter would enable them to fire at the brute as many bullets as they pleased, while they would be quite secure from his attack. but the _time_ that would be required to cut these holes--that was why the plan did not please the field-cornet. he and his party had no time to spare: their horses were weak with hunger, and a long journey lay before them ere a morsel could be obtained. no,--the time could not be spared for making a breach. some more expeditious mode of attack must be devised. "father," said hendrik, "suppose we set the house on fire?" good. the suggestion was a good one. von bloom cast his eyes up to the roof--a sloping structure with long eaves. it consisted of heavy beams of dry wood with rafters and laths, and all covered over with a thatch of rushes, a foot in thickness. it would make a tremendous blaze, and the smoke would be likely enough to suffocate the lion even before the blaze could get at him. the suggestion of hendrik was adopted. they prepared to fire the house. there was still a large quantity of rubbish,--the collected firewood which the locusts had not devoured. this would enable them to carry out their purpose; and all three immediately set about hauling it up, and piling it against the door. one might almost have fancied that the lion had fathomed their design; for, although he had been for a long while quite silent, he now commenced a fresh spell of roaring. perhaps the noise of the logs, striking against the door outside, had set him at it; and, finding himself thus shut up and baited, he had grown impatient. what he had sought as a _shelter_ had been turned into a _trap_, and he was now anxious to get out of it. this was evident by the demonstrations he began to make. they could hear him rushing about--passing from door to window--striking both with his huge paws, and causing them to shake upon their hinges--all the while uttering the most fiendish roars. though not without some apprehensions, the three continued their work. they had their horses at hand, ready to be mounted in case the lion might make his way through the fire. in fact, they intended to take to their saddles--as soon as the fire should be fairly under way--and watch the conflagration from a safe distance. they had dragged up all the bush and dry wood, and had piled them in front of the door. swartboy had taken out his flint and steel, and was about to strike, when a loud scratching was heard from the inside, unlike anything that had yet reached their ears. it was the rattling of the lion's claws against the wall, but it had an odd sound as if the animal was struggling violently; at the same time his voice seemed hoarse and smothered, and appeared to come from a distance. what was the brute doing? they stood for a moment, looking anxiously in each other's faces. the scratching continued--the hoarse growling at intervals--but this ended at length; and then came a snort, followed by a roar so loud and clear, that all three started in airtight. they could not believe that trails were between them and their dangerous enemy! again echoed that horrid cry. great heaven! it proceeded no longer from the inside--it came from above them! was the lion upon the roof? all three rushed backward a step or two, and looked up. a sight was before them that rendered them almost speechless with surprise and terror. above the funnel of the chimney appeared the head of the lion; his glaring yellow eyes and white teeth showing more fearful from contrast with the black soot that begrimed him. he was dragging his body up. one foot was already above the capstone; and with this and his teeth he was widening the aperture around him. it was a terrible sight to behold--at least to those below. as already stated, they _were_ alarmed; and would have taken to their horses, had they not perceived that the animal had _stuck fast_! it was evident that this was the case, but it was equally evident that in a few moments he would succeed in clearing himself from the chimney. his teeth and claws were hard at work, and the stones and mortar were flying in all directions. the funnel would soon be down below his broad chest, and then-- von bloom did not stay to think what then. he and hendrik, guns in hand, ran up near the bottom of the wall. the chimney was but a score of feet in height; the long roer was pointed upward, reaching nearly half that distance. the yager was also aimed. both cracked together. the lion's eyes suddenly closed, his head shook convulsively, his paw dropped loose over the capstone, his jaws fell open, and blood trickled down his tongue. in a few moments he was dead! this was apparent to every one. but swartboy was not satisfied, until he had discharged about a score of his arrows at the head of the animal, causing it to assume the appearance of a porcupine. so tightly had the huge beast wedged himself, that even after death he still remained in his singular situation. under other circumstances he would have been dragged down for the sake of his skin. but there was no time to spare for skinning him; and without further delay, von bloom and his companions mounted their horses and rode off. chapter twelve. a talk about lions. as they rode back they conversed about lions, to beguile the time. all of them knew something about these animals; but swartboy, who had been born and brought up in the bush, in the very midst of their haunts as it were, of course was well acquainted with their habits--ay, far better than monsieur buffon himself. to describe the personal appearance of a lion would be to waste words. every one of my readers must know the lion by sight, either from having seen one in a zoological collection, or the stuffed skin of one in a museum. every one knows the form of the animal, and his great shaggy mane. every one knows, moreover, that the lioness is without this appendage, and in shape and size differs considerably from the male. though there are not two _species_ of lions, there are what are termed _varieties_, but these differ very little from each other--far less than the varieties of most other animals. there are seven acknowledged varieties. the barbary lion, the lion of senegal, the indian lion, the persian, the yellow cape, the black cape, and the maneless lion. the difference among these animals is not so great, but that at a glance any one may tell they were all of one species and kind. the persian variety is rather smaller than the others; the barbary is of darker brown and heavily maned; the lion of senegal is of light shining yellow colour, and thinly maned; while the maneless lion, as its name imports, is without this appendage. the existence of the last species is doubted by some naturalists. it is said to be found in syria. the two cape lions differ principally in the colour of the mane. in the one it is black or dark brown--in the other of a tawny yellow, like the rest of the body. of all lions, those of south africa are perhaps the largest, and the black variety the most fierce and dangerous. lions inhabit the whole continent of africa, and the southern countries of asia. they were once common in parts of europe, where they exist no longer. there are no lions in america. the animal known in spanish-american countries as the lion (_leon_) is the cougar or puma (_felis concolor_), which is not one-third the lion's size, and resembles the king of beasts only in being of the same tawny colour. the puma is not unlike a lion's cub six months old. africa is peculiarly the country of the lion. he is found throughout the whole extent of that continent--excepting of course a few thickly inhabited spots, from which he has been expelled by man. the lion has been called the "king of the forest." this appears to be a misnomer. he is not properly a _forest_ animal. he cannot climb trees, and therefore in the forest would less easily procure his food than in the open plain. the panther, the leopard, and the jaguar, are all tree-climbers. they can follow the bird to its roost, and the monkey to its perch. the forest is their appropriate home. they are forest animals. not so the lion. it is upon the open plains--where the great ruminants love to roam, and among the low bushy thickets that skirt them, that the lion affects to dwell. he lives upon flesh,--the flesh of many kinds of animals, though he has his favourites, according to the country in which he is found. he kills these animals for himself. the story of the jackal being his "provider,"--killing them for him,--is not true. more frequently he himself provides the skulking jackals with a meal. hence their being often seen in his company--which they keep, in order to pick up his "crumbs." the lion "butchers" for himself, though he will not object to have it done for him; and will take away their game from wolf, jackal, or hyena--from the hunter if he can. the lion is not a fast runner--none of the true _felidae_ are. nearly all the ruminant animals can outrun him. how, then, does he capture them? by stratagem, by the suddenness of his attack, and by the length and velocity of his bound. he lies in wait, or steals upon them. he springs from his crouching place. his peculiar anatomical structure enables him to spring to an immense distance--in fact, to an almost incredible distance. sixteen paces have been alleged by writers, who say they were eye-witnesses, and carefully measured the leap! should he fail to capture his prey at the first bound, the lion follows it no farther, but turns and trots away in an opposite direction. sometimes, however, the intended victim tempts him to a second spring, and even to a third; but failing then, he is sure to give up the pursuit. the lion is not gregarious, although as many as ten or a dozen are often seen together. they hunt in company at times, and drive the game towards one another! they attack and destroy all other species of animals that inhabit the country around them--even the strong heavy rhinoceros is not feared by them, though the latter frequently foils and conquers them. young elephants sometimes become their prey. the fierce buffalo, the giraffe, the oryx, the huge eland, and the eccentric gnoo, all have to succumb to their superior strength and armature. but they are not universally victorious over these animals. sometimes they are vanquished by one or other of them, and in turn become victims. sometimes both combatants leave their bodies upon the scene of the struggle. the lion is not hunted as a profession. his spoils are worthless. his skin sells for but little, and he yields no other trophy of any value. as hunting him is attended with great danger, and the hunter, as already stated, may avoid him if he wishes, but few lions would be destroyed, were it not for a certain offensive habit to which they are addicted-- that of robbing the vee-boor of his horses and his cattle. this brings a new passion into play,--the vengeance of the farmer; and with such a motive to urge on the hunt, the lion in some parts is chased with great zeal and assiduity. but where there are no cattle-farms, no such motive exists; and there but little interest is felt in the chase of this animal. nay, what is still stranger: the bushmen and other poor wandering tribes do not kill the lion at all, or very seldom. they do not regard him with feelings of hostility. the lion acts towards _them_ as a "provider!" hendrik, who had heard of this, asked swartboy if it was true. the bushman answered at once in the affirmative. his people, he said, were in the habit of watching the lion, or following his spoor, until they came upon either himself, or the quarry he had killed. sometimes the vultures guided them to it. when the "tao" chanced to be on the spot, or had not yet finished his meal, his trackers would wait, until he had taken his departure, after which they would steal up and appropriate what remained of the spoil. often this would be the half, or perhaps three parts of some large animal, which they might have found a difficulty in killing for themselves. knowing the lion will rarely attack them, the bushmen are not much afraid of these animals. on the contrary, they rather rejoice at seeing them numerous in their district, as they are then provided with hunters able to _furnish_ them with food! chapter thirteen. the travellers benighted. our travellers would have talked much more about lions, but for the condition of their horses. this made them feel uneasy. with the exception of a few hours grazing, the poor brutes had been without food since the appearance of the locusts. horses do not travel well upon soft grass, and of course they were now suffering severely. it would be far in the night before the horsemen could reach the camp-- although they were pushing on as fast as the horses could travel. it was quite dark, when they arrived at the spot where they had halted the previous evening. in fact, it was very dark. neither moon nor stars were to be seen in the sky; and thick black clouds covered the whole canopy of the heavens. it looked as though a rain-storm might be expected--still no rain had as yet fallen. it was the intention of the travellers to halt at this place, and let their horses graze a while. with this view they all dismounted; but, after trying one or two places, they could find no grass! this appeared strange, as they had certainly observed grass at that very spot the day before. now there was none! the horses put their noses to the ground, but raised them up again, snorting as they did so, and evidently disappointed. they were hungry enough to have eaten grass had there been any, for they eagerly snatched at the leaves of the bushes as they passed along! had the locusts been there also? no. the mimosa-bushes still retained their delicate foliage, which would not have been the case had the locusts visited the spot. our travellers were astonished that there was no grass. surely there was some the day before? had they got upon a new track? the darkness prevented them from having a view of the ground; yet von bloom could not be mistaken about the route--having travelled it four times already. though he could not see the surface, every now and again he caught a glimpse of some tree or bush, which he had marked in his former journeys, and these assured him they were still upon the right track. surprised at the absence of grass where they had so lately observed it, they would have examined the surface more carefully; but they were anxious to push on to the spring, and at length gave up the idea of halting. the water in their gourds had been used up long before this; and both they and their horses were once more suffering from thirst. besides, von bloom was not without some anxiety about the children at the wagon. he had been separated from them now a full day and a half, and many a change might take place--many a danger might arise in that time. in fact, he began to blame himself for having left them alone. it would have been better to have let his cattle perish. so thought he now. a presentiment that all was not right was gradually forming in his mind; and he grew more anxious to proceed as he reflected. they rode on in silence. it was only on hendrik expressing a doubt about the way, that the conversation recommenced. swartboy also thought they were taking a wrong course. at first von bloom assured them they were right: but after going a little farther, he admitted that he was in doubt; and then, after another half-mile's travelling, he declared that he had lost the track. he could no longer recognise any one of the marks or bearings he had taken. the proper thing to be done under these circumstances was to leave the horses to themselves; and this all three well knew. but the animals were suffering the pangs of hunger, and when left to themselves, would not journey forward, but rushed up to the mimosa-bushes, and eagerly commenced devouring their leaves. the consequence was, that their riders were obliged to keep them going with whip and spur; and in that way there was no certainty of the horses taking the right direction. after several hours' advancing, all the while in a state of suspense, and as yet no appearance of either wagon or camp-fire, the travellers resolved upon coming to a halt. it was of no use going forward. they believed they could not be far from the camp; but they were now as likely to be riding _from_ as _towards_ it; and they concluded at length, that it would be wiser to remain where they were until the day broke. they all dismounted therefore, and fastened their horses to the bushes-- so that the animals could browse upon the leaves till morning--which could not now be very far off. they rolled themselves up in their karosses, and lay down upon the earth. hendrik and swartboy were soon asleep. von bloom would have slept too, for he was tired enough; but the heart of the father was too full of anxiety to allow repose to his eyes, and he lay awake watching for the dawn. it came at length, and at the first light his eyes swept the surface of the surrounding country. the party had by chance halted on an eminence that commanded a good view for miles on each side, but the field-cornet had not glanced half around the circle, when an object came before his eyes that brought gladness to his heart. it was the white tent of the wagon! the joyful exclamation he uttered awoke the sleepers, who immediately sprang to their feet; and all three stood gazing at the welcome sight. as they continued to gaze, their joy gradually gave place to feelings of surprise. was it _their_ wagon, after all? it certainly looked like theirs; but it was a full half-mile off, and at such a distance one wagon would look just like another. but what led them to doubt its being theirs? it was the _appearance of the place in which they saw it_. surely it was not the same place in which they had outspanned! theirs had been left in an oblong valley between two gentle ridges--in such a valley was this one standing. near a small pool formed by a spring--here, too, was the same, for they could perceive the water shining. but in all other respects the situation was different. the surface of the valley in which their wagon had been left was covered, both sides and bottom, with a verdant carpet of grass; whereas the one now before their eyes was brown and bare! not a blade of grass was to be seen--the trees seeming to be the only things that had any verdure. even the low bushes appeared to be destitute of leaves! the scene had no resemblance whatever to that where they had outspanned. it must be the camp of some other travellers, thought they. they had fully arrived at this conclusion, when swartboy, whose eyes had been rolling about everywhere, now rested upon the ground at his feet. after a moment's observation--which the increasing light now enabled him to make--he turned suddenly to the others, and directed their attention to the surface of the plain. this they saw was covered with tracks, as if a thousand hoofs had passed over it. in fact, it presented the appearance of a vast sheep-pen; so vast, that as far as their sight extended, they beheld the same tracked and trampled appearance! what could this mean? hendrik did not know. von bloom was in doubt. swartboy could tell at the first glance. it was no new sight to him. "all right, baas," he said, looking up in his master's face. "da's da ole wagon!--da same spring an' vley--da same place--dar hab been um _trek-boken_!" "a trek-boken!" cried von bloom and hendrik, in a breath. "ya, baas--a mighty big one too; das de spoor of dem antelope--see!" von bloom now comprehended all. the bareness of the country, the absence of the leaves on the lower bushes, the millions of small hoof-tracks, all were now explained. a migration of the springbok antelope, a "trek-boken," had swept over the spot. that it was that had caused such a mighty change. the wagon they saw was theirs, after all. they lost no time, but, catching their horses, bridled them, and rode rapidly down the hill. though somewhat relieved at seeing the wagon, von bloom was still apprehensive. as they approached, they perceived the two horses standing beside it, and tied to the wheels, the cow also was there--but neither goats nor sheep were in the neighbourhood. there was a fire burning in the rear of the hind-wheels, and a dark mass underneath the wagon, but no human form could be observed. the hearts of the horsemen beat loudly as they advanced. their eyes were bent earnestly upon the wagon. they felt keen anxiety. they had got within three hundred yards, and still no one stirred--no human form made its appearance. von bloom and hendrik now suffered intensely. at this moment the two horses by the wagon neighed loudly; the dark mass under the wagon moved, rolled outward, rose up, and stood erect. totty was recognised! and now the "after-clap" of the wagon was hurriedly drawn aside, and three young faces were seen peeping forth. a shout of joy burst from the horsemen, and the next moment little jan and truey leaped out from the cap-tent into the arms of their father-- while the mutual congratulations of hans and hendrik, swartboy and totty, produced for some moments a scene of joyful confusion quite indescribable. chapter fourteen. the "trek-boken." those who remained by the camp had had their adventures too; and their tale was by no means a merry one, for it disclosed the unpleasant fact, that the sheep and goats were all lost. the flock had been carried off, in a most singular manner; and there was but little hope of their ever being seen again. hans began his tale:-- "nothing unusual occurred on the day you left us. i was busy all the afternoon in cutting `wait-a-bit' thorns for a kraal. totty helped me to drag them up, while jan and truey looked after the flock. the animals did not stray out of the valley here, as the grass was good, and they had had enough of trotting lately. "well--totty and i got the kraal, as you see, all ready. so, when night came, we drove the flock in; and, after milking the cow and getting our supper, we all went to bed. we were precious tired, and all of us slept soundly throughout the night without being disturbed. both jackals and hyenas came around, but we knew they would not break into that kraal." hans pointed to the circular enclosure of thorn-bushes, that had been well constructed. he then proceeded with his narration:-- "in the morning we found everything right. totty again milked the cow; and we had breakfast. the flock was let out upon the grass, and so were the cow and the two horses. "just about midday i began to think what we were to have for dinner, for the breakfast had cleared up everything. i did not like to kill another sheep, if it could be helped. so bidding jan and truey stay close by the wagon, and leaving totty to look after the flock, i took my gun and started off in search of game. i took no horse, for i thought i saw springboks out on the plain; and i would stalk them better afoot. "sure enough, there _were_ springboks. when i got out of the valley here, and had a better view, i saw what astonished me, i can assure you. "i could scarce credit my eyes. the whole plain, towards the west, appeared to be one vast crowd of animals; and by their bright yellow sides, and the snow-white hair on their rumps, i knew they were springboks. they were all in motion, some browsing along, while hundreds of them were constantly bounding up into the air full ten feet high, and leaping a-top of each other. i assure you all it was tone of the strangest sights i ever beheld, and one of the pleasantest too; for i knew that the creatures that covered the plain, instead of being fierce wild beasts, were nothing but graceful and beautiful little gazelles. "my first thought was to get near them, and have a shot; and i was about to start off over the plain, when i perceived that the antelopes were coming towards me. i saw that they were approaching with considerable rapidity; and if i only remained where i was, they would save me the trouble of stalking in upon them. i lay down behind a bush and waited. "i had not very long to wait. in less than a quarter of an hour the foremost of the herd drew near, and in five minutes more a score of them were within shot. "i did not fire for some time. i knew they would come still nearer; and i lay watching the motions of those pretty creatures. i took notice of their light handsome forms, their smooth slender limbs, their cinnamon-coloured backs, and white bellies, with the band of chestnut along each side. i looked at the lyre-shaped horns of the bucks, and above all, at the singular flaps on their croup, that unfolded each time that they leaped up, displaying a profusion of long silky hair, as white as snow itself. "all these points i noticed, and at length, tired of admiring them, i singled out a fine-looking doe--for i was thinking of my dinner, and knew that doe-venison was the most palatable. "after aiming carefully, i fired. the doe fell, but, to my astonishment, the others did not run off. a few of the foremost only galloped back a bit, or bounded up into the air; but they again set to browsing quite unconcerned, and the main body advanced as before! "i loaded as quickly as i could, and brought down another,--this time a buck--but as before without frightening the rest! "i proceeded to load for the third time; but before i had finished, the front ranks had passed on both sides of me, and i found myself in the midst of the herd! "i saw no need for covering myself any longer behind the bush, but rose to my knees, and, firing at the nearest, brought it down also. its comrades did not pause, but ran over its body in thousands! "i loaded again, and stood right up on my feet. "now for the first time it occurred to me to reflect on the strange conduct of the springboks; for, instead of making off at my appearance, they only bounded a little to one side, and then kept on their course. they seemed possessed by a species of infatuation. i remembered hearing that such was their way when upon one of their migrations, or `trek-bokens.' this, then, thought i, must be a `trek-boken.' "i was soon convinced of this, for the herd every moment grew thicker and thicker around me, until at length they became so crowded, that i began to feel very singularly situated. not that i was afraid of the creatures, as they made no demonstration of using their horns upon me. on the contrary, they did all they could to get out of my way. but the nearest only were alarmed; and, as my presence in no way terrified those that were an hundred yards off, the latter made no attempt to give ground. of course the nearest ones could only get a few paces from me, by pushing the others closer, or springing up over their backs--so that with the ones thus constantly bounding up into the air there was all the time a ring around me two deep! "i cannot describe the strange feelings i had in this unusual situation, or how long i might have kept my place. perhaps i might have loaded and fired away for some time, but just at the moment the sheep came into my mind. "they'll be carried away, thought i. i had heard that such a thing was common enough. "i saw that the antelopes were heading towards the valley--the foremost were already into it, and would soon be on the spot, where i had just seen our little flock feeding! "in hopes of yet heading the springboks, and driving the sheep into the kraal, before the former crowded on them, i started towards the valley. but, to my chagrin, i could get no faster than the herd was going! "as i approached the creatures, to make my way through their mass, they leaped about and sprang over one another, but could not for their lives open a way for me as fast as i wanted one. i was so near some of them that i could have knocked them down with my gun! "i commenced hallooing, and, brandishing the gun about, i was making a lane more rapidly, when i perceived in front what appeared to be a large open space. i pushed forward for this, but the nearer i came to its border the more densely i found the creatures packed. i could only see that it was an open space by leaping up. i did not know what was causing it. i did not stay to reflect. i only wished to get forward as rapidly as possible, thinking about our flock. "i continued to clear my way, and at length found myself in the position i had coveted; while the lane i had made, in getting there, closed instantaneously behind me. i was about to rush on, and take advantage of the bit of clear ground, when, what should i see in the centre, and directly before me, but a great yellow lion! "that accounted for the break in the herd. had i known what had been causing it, i should have fought my way in any other direction but that; but there was i, out in the open ground, the lion not ten paces from me, and a fence of springboks two deep around both of us! "i need not say i was frightened, and badly too. i did not for some moments know how to act. my gun was still loaded--for, after thinking of saving our little flock, i did not care to empty it at the antelopes. i could get one, thought i, at any time when i had secured the sheep in the kraal. the piece, therefore, was loaded and with bullets. "should i take aim at the lion, and fire? i asked myself this question, and was just on the point of deciding in the affirmative, when i reflected that it would be imprudent. i observed that the lion, whose back was turned to me, had either not seen, or as yet took no notice of me. should i only wound him--and from the position he was in i was not likely to do more,--how then? i would most likely be torn to pieces. "these were my reflections, all of which scarce occupied a second of time. i was about to `back out' or back in among the springboks, and make my way in some other direction, and had even got near the edge, when, in looking over my shoulder, i saw the lion suddenly halt and turn round. i halted too, knowing that to be the safest plan; and, as i did so, i glanced back at the lion's eyes. "to my relief, i saw they were not upon _me_. he seemed to have taken some fancy in his head. his appetite, perhaps, had returned; for the next moment he ran a few yards, and then, rising with a terrific bound, launched himself far into the herd, and came down right upon the back of one of the antelopes! the others sprang right and left, and a new space was soon opened around him. "he was now nearer than ever to where i stood, and i could see him distinctly crouched over his victim. his claws held its quivering body, and his long teeth grasped the poor creature by the neck. but, with the exception of his tail, he was making not the slightest motion, and that vibrated gently from side to side, just as a kitten that had caught a tiny mouse. i could see, too, that his eyes were close shut, as though he were asleep! "now i had heard that under such circumstances the lion may be approached without much danger. not that i wished to go any nearer--for i was near enough for my gun--but it was this recollection, i believe, that put me in the notion of firing. at all events, something whispered me i would succeed, and i could not resist trying. "the broad blind jaw of the brute was fair before me. i took aim, and pulled trigger; but, instead of waiting to see the effect of my shot, i ran right off in an opposite direction. "i did not halt till i had put several _acres_ of antelopes between myself and the place where i had last stood; and then i made the best of my way to the wagon. "long before i had reached it, i could see that jan, and truey, and totty, were safe under the tent. that gave me pleasure, but i also saw that the sheep and goats had got mixed up with the springboks, and were moving off with them as if they belonged to the same species! i fear they are all lost." "and the lion?" inquired hendrik. "yonder he lies!" answered hans, modestly pointing to a yellow mass out upon the plain, over which the vultures were already beginning to hover. "yonder he lies, you could hardly have done it better yourself, brother hendrik." as hans said this, he smiled in such a manner as to show, that he had no idea of making a boast of his achievements. hendrik was loud in acknowledging that it was a most splendid feat, and also in regretting that he had not been on the ground to witness the wonderful migration of the springboks. but there was no time for much idle talk. von bloom and his party were in a very unpleasant situation. his flocks were all gone. the cow and horses alone remained; and for these not a blade of grass had been left by the antelopes. upon what were they to be fed? to follow the spoor of the migratory springboks with the hope of recovering their flock would be quite useless. swartboy assured them of this. the poor animals might be carried hundreds of miles before they could separate themselves from the great herd, or bring their involuntary journey to an end! the horses could travel but little farther. there was nought to feed them on but the leaves of the mimosas, and this was but poor food for hungry horses. it would be fortunate if they could be kept alive until they should reach some pasture; and where now was pasture to be found? locusts and antelopes between them seemed to have turned all africa into a desert! the field-cornet soon formed his resolution. he would remain there for the night, and early on the morrow set out in search of some other spring. fortunately hans had not neglected to secure a brace of the springboks; and their fat venison now came into general use. a roast of that, and a drink of cool water from the spring, soon refreshed the three wearied travellers. the horses were let loose among the mimosa-trees, and allowed to shift for themselves; and although under ordinary circumstances they would have "turned up their noses" at such food as mimosa-leaves, they now turned them up in a different sense, and cleared the thorny branches like so many giraffes. some naturalist of the "buffon" school has stated that neither wolf, fox, hyena, nor jackal, will eat the carcass of a lion,--that their fear of the royal despot continues even after his death. the field-cornet and his family had proof of the want of truth in this assertion. before many hours both jackals and hyenas attacked the carcass of the king of beasts, and in a very short while there was not a morsel of him there but his bones. even his tawny skin was swallowed by these ravenous creatures, and many of the bones broken by the strong jaws of the hyenas. the respect which these brutes entertain for the lion ends with his life. when dead, he is eaten by them with as much audacity as if he were the meanest of animals. chapter fifteen. spooring for a spring. von bloom was in the saddle at an early hour. swartboy accompanied him, while all the others remained by the wagon to await his return. they took with them the two horses that had remained by the wagon, as these were fresher than the others. they rode nearly due westward. they were induced to take this direction by observing that the springboks had come from the north. by heading westward they believed they would sooner get beyond the wasted territory. to their great satisfaction an hour's travelling carried them clear of the track of the antelope migration; and although they found no water, there was excellent grass. the field-cornet now sent swartboy back for the other horses and the cow, pointing out a place where he should bring them to graze, while he himself continued on in search of water. after travelling some miles farther, von bloom perceived to the north of him a long line of cliff rising directly up from the plain, and running westward as far as he could see. thinking that water would be more likely to be found near these cliffs, he turned his horse's head towards them. as he approached nearer to their base, he was charmed with the beautiful scenery that began to open before his eyes. he passed through grassy plains of different sizes, separated from each other by copses of the delicate-leaved mimosa; some of these forming large thickets, while others consisted of only a few low bushes. towering high over the mimosas, grew many trees of gigantic size, and of a species von bloom had never seen before. they stood thinly upon the ground; but each, with its vast leafy head, seemed a little forest of itself. the whole country around had a soft park-like appearance, which contrasted well with the dark cliff that rose beyond--the latter stepping up from the plain by a precipice of several hundred feet in height, and seemingly as vertical as the walls of a house. the fine landscape was gratifying to the eyes of the traveller--such a fine country in the midst of so much barrenness; for he knew that most of the surrounding region was little better than a wild karoo. the whole of it to the north for hundreds of miles was a famous desert--the desert of kalihari--and these cliffs were a part of its southern border. the "vee-boor" would have been rejoiced at such a sight under other circumstances. but what to him now were all these fine pastures--now that he was no longer able to stock them? notwithstanding the beauty of the scene, his reflections were painful. but he did not give way to despair. his present troubles were sufficiently grievous to prevent him from dwelling much on the future. his first care was to find a place where his horses might be recruited; for without them he could no longer move anywhere--without them he would be helpless indeed. water was the desired object. if water could not be found, all this beautiful park through which he was passing would be as valueless to him as the brown desert. surely so lovely a landscape could not exist without that most essential element! so thought the field-cornet; and at the turning of every new grove his eyes wandered over the ground in search of it. "_ho_!" he joyfully exclaimed as a covey of large namaqua partridges whirred up from his path. "a good sign that: _they_ are seldom far from water." shortly after, he saw a flock of beautiful pintados, or guinea-hens, running into a copse. this was a still further proof that water was nigh. but surest of all, on the top of a tall _cameel-doorn_ tree, he next observed the brilliant plumage of a parrot. "now," muttered he to himself, "i must be very near to some spring or pool." he rode cheerfully forward: and after a little while arrived upon the crest of an elevated ridge. here he halted to observe the flight of the birds. presently he noticed a covey of partridges flying in a westerly direction, and shortly after, another covey going the same way. both appeared to alight near a gigantic tree that grew in the plain about five hundred yards from the bottom of the cliffs. this tree stood apart from any of the others, and was by far the largest von bloom had yet seen. as he remained gazing at its wonderful dimensions, he observed several pairs of parrots alighting upon it. these, after chattering a while among its branches, flew down upon the plain not far from its base. "surely," thought von bloom, "there must be water there. i shall ride forward and see." but his horse had scarcely waited for him to form this design. the animal had been already dragging upon the bridle; and as soon as his head was turned in the direction of the tree, he started forward with outstretched neck, snorting as he rushed along. the rider, trusting to the instinct of his horse, surrendered up the bridle; and in less than five minutes both horse and rider were drinking from the sweet water of a crystal fountain that gushed out within a dozen yards of the tree. the field-cornet would now have hastened back to the wagon: but he thought that by allowing his horse to browse an hour or so upon the grass, he would make the return-journey with more spirit, and in quite as good time. he, therefore, took off the bridle, gave the animal his liberty, while he stretched himself under the shade of the great tree. as he lay, he could not help admiring the wonderful production of nature that towered majestically above him. it was one of the largest trees he had ever beheld. it was of the kind known as the "nwana" tree, a species of _ficus_, with large sycamore-shaped leaves that grew thickly over its magnificent head. its trunk was full twenty-feet in diameter, rising to more than that height without a branch, and then spreading off into numerous limbs that stretched far out in a horizontal direction. through the thick foliage von bloom could perceive shining egg-shaped fruits as large as cocoa-nuts; and upon these the parrots and several other kinds of birds appeared to be feeding. other trees of the same species stood out upon the plain at long distances apart; and though they were all taller than the surrounding timber, none were so large or conspicuous as the one that grew by the spring. the field-cornet, as he enjoyed the cool shade which its umbrageous frondage afforded, could not help thinking what an admirable spot it would be to build a kraal. the inmates of a dwelling placed beneath its friendly shelter, need never dread the fierce rays of the african sun; even the rain could scarce penetrate its leafy canopy. in fact, its dense foliage almost constituted a roof of itself. had his cattle still remained to him, no doubt the vee-boor would have resolved at once to make this spot his future home. but, tempting as it was, what now could he do in such a place? to him it would be only a wilderness. there was no species of industry he could follow in such a remote quarter. true, he might sustain himself and his family by hunting. he saw that game was plenteous all around. but that would be but a sorry existence, with no promise for the future. what would his children do hereafter? were they to grow up with no other end than to become poor hunters--no better than the wild bushmen? no! no! no! to make a home there would be out of the question. a few days to recruit his wearied horses, and then he would make a struggle and trek back to the settlements. but what after he had got back? he knew not what then. his future was gloomy and uncertain. after indulging in such reflections for an hour or more, he bethought him that it was time to return to the camp; and having caught and bridled his horse, he mounted and set forth. the animal, refreshed by the sweet grass and cool water, carried him briskly along; and in less than two hours he came up with swartboy and hendrik where they were pasturing the horses. these were taken back to the wagon and harnessed in; and then the great vehicle once more "trekked" across the plains. before the sun had set, the long white cap-tent was gleaming under the leafy screen of the gigantic "nwana." chapter sixteen. the terrible "tsetse." the verdant carpet that stretched away around them--the green leaves upon the trees--the flowers by the fountain--the crystal water in its bed--the black bold rocks towering up at a distance--all combined to make a lovely picture. the eyes of the wayfarers were glad as they beheld it; and while the wagon was outspanning, every one gave utterance to their delightful emotions. the place seemed to please every one. hans loved its quiet and sylvan beauty. it was just such a place as he would choose to ramble in, book in hand, and dream away many a pleasant hour. hendrik liked it much, because he had already observed what he termed "extensive spoor" about the spot: in other words, he had noticed the tracks of many of africa's largest wild animals. little truey was delighted to see so many beautiful flowers. there were bright scarlet geraniums, and starlike sweet-scented jessamines, and the gorgeous belladonna lily, with its large blossoms of rose-colour and white; and there were not only plants in flower, but bushes, and even trees, covered with gaudy and sweetly-perfumed blossoms. there was the "sugar-bush" (_protea mellifera_), the most beautiful of its family, with its large cup-shaped corollas of pink, white, and green; and there, too, was the "silver-tree" (_leucodendron argenteum_), whose soft silvery leaves playing in the breeze, looked like a huge mass of silken flowers; and there were the mimosas covered with blossoms of golden yellow that filled the air with their strong and agreeable perfume. rare forms of vegetation were around or near at hand: the arborescent aloes, with their tall flower-spikes of coral red, and euphorbias of many shapes; and _zamia_, with its palm-like fronds; and the soft-leaved _strelitzia reginae_. all these were observed in the neighbourhood of this new-discovered fountain. but what received little truey's admiration more than any other was the beautiful blue waterlily (_nympha caerulea_), which is certainly one of the loveliest of africa's flowers. close by the spring, but a little farther in the direction of the plain, was a vley, or pool--in fact, it might have been termed a small lake--and upon the quiet bosom of its water the sky-blue corollas lay sleeping in all their gorgeous beauty. truey, leading her little pet in a string, had gone down on the bank to look at them. she thought she could never cease gazing at such pretty things. "i hope papa will stay here a long time," she said to her companion, little jan. "and i hope so too. oh! truey, what a fine tree yon is! look! nuts as big as my head, i declare. bless me, sis! how are we to knock some, of them down?" and so the children conversed, both delighted with the new scenes around them. although all the young people were inclined to be happy, yet they were checked in their expression of it, by observing that there was a cloud on the brow of their father. he had seated himself under the great tree, but his eyes were upon the ground, as though he were busy with painful reflections. all of them noticed this. his reflections were, indeed, painful--they could not well have been otherwise. there was but one course left for him--to return to the settlements, and begin life anew. but how to begin it? what could he do? his property all gone, he could only serve some of his richer neighbours; and for one accustomed all his life to independence, this would be hard indeed. he looked towards his five horses, now eagerly cropping the luxuriant grass that grew under the shadow of the cliffs. when would they be ready to trek back again? in three or four days he might start. fine animals, most of them were--they would carry the wagon lightly enough. so ran the reflections of the field-cornet. he little thought at the moment that those horses would never draw wagon more, nor any other vehicle. he little thought that those five noble brutes were doomed! yet so it was. in less than a week from that time, the jackals and hyenas were quarrelling over their bones. even at that very moment, whilst he watched them browsing, the poison was entering their veins, and their death-wounds were being inflicted. alas! alas! another blow awaited von bloom. the field-cornet had noticed, now and again, that the horses seemed uneasy as they fed. at times they started suddenly, whisked their long tails, and rubbed their heads against the bushes. "some fly is troubling them," thought he, and had no more uneasiness about the matter. it was just that--just a fly that was troubling them. had von bloom known what that fly was, he would have felt a very different concern about his horses. had he known the nature of that little fly, he would have rushed up with all his boys, caught the horses in the greatest hurry, and led them far away from those dark cliffs. but he knew not the "tsetse" fly. it still wanted some minutes of sunset, and the horses were permitted to browse freely, but von bloom observed that they were every moment getting more excited--now striking their hoofs upon the turf,--now running a length or two--and at intervals snorting angrily. at the distance they were off--a quarter of a mile or so--von bloom could see nothing of what was disturbing them; but their odd behaviour at length induced him to walk up to where they were. hans and hendrik went along with him. when they arrived near the spot, they were astonished at what they then beheld. each horse seemed to be encompassed by a swarm of bees! they saw, however, they were not bees, but insects somewhat smaller, of a brown colour, resembling gad-flies, and exceedingly active in their flight. thousands of them hovered above each horse, and hundreds could be seen lighting upon the heads, necks, bodies, and legs of the animals,--in fact, all over them. they were evidently either biting or stinging them. no wonder the poor brutes were annoyed. von bloom suggested that they should drive the horses farther out into the plain, where these flies did not seem to haunt. he was only concerned about the _annoyance_ which the horses received from them. hendrik also pitied their sufferings; but hans, alone of all the three, guessed at the truth. he had read of a fatal insect that frequented some districts in the interior of south africa, and the first sight of these flies aroused his suspicions that it might be they. he communicated his thoughts to the others, who at once shared his alarm. "call swartboy hither!" said von bloom. the bushman was called, and soon made his appearance, coming up from the spring. he had for the last hour been engaged in unpacking the wagon, and had taken no notice of the horses or the interest they were exciting. as soon, however, as he got near, and saw the winged swarm whirring around the horses, his small eyes opened to their widest extent, his thick lips fell, and his whole face yielded itself to an expression of amazement and alarm. "what is it, swart?" inquired his master. "mein baas! mein baas! der duyvel um da--dar skellum is da `tsetse!'" "and what if it be the tsetse?" "mein baas!--all dead--dead--ebery horse!" swartboy then proceeded to explain, with a loud and continuous "clicking," that the fly which they saw was fatal in its bite, that the horses would surely die--sooner or later, according to the number of stings they had already received; but, from the swarm of insects around them, the bushman had no doubt they had been badly stung and a single week would see all five of the horses dead. "wait, mein baas--morrow show." and to-morrow _did_ show; for before twelve o'clock on the next day, the horses were swollen all over their bodies and about their heads. their eyes were quite closed up; they refused any longer to eat, but staggered blindly among the luxuriant grass, every now and then expressing the pain they felt by a low melancholy whimpering. it was plain to every one they were going to die. von bloom tried bleeding, and various other remedies; but to no purpose. there is no cure for the bite of the tsetse fly! chapter seventeen. the long-horned rhinoceros. great, indeed, was now the affliction of the field-cornet. fortune seemed to be adverse in everything. step by step he had been sinking for years, every year becoming poorer in worldly wealth. he had now reached the lowest point--poverty itself. he owned nothing whatever. his horses might be regarded as dead. the cow had escaped from the tsetse by avoiding the cliffs, and keeping out upon the plain; and this animal now constituted his whole live-stock,--his whole property! true, he still had his fine wagon; but of what use would that be without either oxen or horses? a wagon without a team! better a team without a wagon. what could he do? how was he to escape from the position he was placed in? to say the least, it was an awkward one--nearly two hundred miles from any civilised settlement, and no means of getting there,--no means except by walking; and how were his children to walk two hundred miles? impossible! across desert tracts, exposed not only to terrible fatigue, but to hunger, thirst, and fierce carnivorous animals. it appeared impossible that they could accomplish such a task. and what else was there to be done? asked the field-cornet of himself. were they to remain there all their lives, subsisting precariously on game and roots? were his children to become "bush-boys,"--himself a bushman? with these reflections passing through his mind, no wonder that von bloom felt deeply afflicted. "merciful heaven!" he exclaimed, as he sat with his head between his hands, "what will become of me and mine?" poor von bloom! he had reached the lowest point of his fortunes. he had, in reality, reached the _lowest_ point; for on that very day,-- even within that very hour--an incident occurred, that not only gave relief to his afflicted spirit, but that promised to lay the foundation of future wealth and prosperity. in one hour from that time the prospects of the field-cornet had undergone a complete change,--in one hour from that time he was a happy man, and all around him were as happy as he! you are impatient to hear how this change was effected? what little fairy had sprung out of the spring, or come down from the cliffs, to befriend the good field-cornet in his hour of misery? you are impatient to hear! then you _shall_ hear. the sun was just going down. they were all seated under the great tree, and near a fire, upon which they had cooked their supper. there was no talking, no cheerful conversation,--for the children saw that their father was in trouble, and that kept them silent. not a word passed between them, or only an occasional whisper. it was at this moment that von bloom gave utterance to his sad thoughts in words as above. as if seeking for an answer, his eyes were raised to heaven, and then wandered around the plain. all at once they became fixed upon a singular object, that appeared at some distance off, and was just emerging from the bushes. it was an animal of some kind, and from its vast size von bloom and the others at first took it to be an elephant. none of them, except swartboy, were accustomed to elephants in their wild state,--for, although these animals once inhabited the most southerly portion of africa, they have long since deserted the settled districts, and are now only to be found far beyond the frontier of the colony. but they knew that there were elephants in these parts--as they had already observed their tracks--and all now supposed the huge creature that was approaching must be one. not all, swartboy was an exception. as soon as his eyes fell upon the animal he cried out,-- "chukuroo--a chukuroo!" "a rhinoster, is it?" said von bloom, knowing that "chukuroo" was the native name for the rhinoceros, or "rhinoster," as he called it in dutch. "ya, baas," replied swartboy; "and one o' da big karles--da `kobaoba,' da long-horn white rhinoster." what swartboy meant by this was that the animal in question was a large species of rhinoceros, known among the natives as the "kobaoba." now i dare say, young reader, you have been all your life under the impression that there was but one species of rhinoceros in the world-- that is _the_ rhinoceros. is it not so? yes. well, permit me to inform you, that you have been under a wrong impression. there is quite a number of distinct species of this very singular animal. at least eight distinct kinds i know of; and i do not hesitate to say that when the central parts of africa have been fully explored, as well as south asia and the asiatic islands, nearly half as many more will be found to exist. in south africa four distinct species are well-known; one in north africa differs from all these; while the large indian rhinoceros bears but slight resemblance to any of them. a distinct species from any is the rhinoceros of sumatra, an inhabitant of that island; and still another is the java rhinoceros, found in the island of java. thus we have no less than eight kinds, all specifically differing from one another. the best known in museums, zoological collections, and pictures, is perhaps the indian animal. it is the one marked by the singular foldings of its skin, thickly embellished with protuberances or knobs, that give it a shield-like appearance. this distinguishes it from the african species, all of which are without these knobs, though the hides of some are knotty or warty. the abyssinian rhinoceros has also foldings of the skin, which approach it somewhat to the character of the indian species. both the sumatra and java kinds are small compared with their huge cousin, the indian rhinoceros, which inhabits only continental india, siam, and cochin china. the javan species more resembles the indian, in having scutellae over the skin and being one-horned. it is, however, without the singular folds which characterise the latter. that of sumatra has neither folds nor scutellae. its skin has a slight covering of hair, and a pair of horns gives it some resemblance to the two-horned species of africa. the natives of south africa are acquainted with four distinct species of rhinoceros, to which they give distinct names; and it may be remarked that this observation of species by native hunters is far more to be depended upon than the speculations of mere closet-naturalists, who draw their deductions from a tubercle, or the tooth, or a stuffed skin. if there be any value in a knowledge of animated nature, it is not to these we are indebted for that knowledge, but far oftener to the "rude hunters," whom they affect to despise, and who, after all, have taught us pretty much all we know of the habits of animals. such a "rude hunter" as gordon cumming, for example, has done more to increase the knowledge of african zoology than a whole college full of "speculating" _savans_. this same gordon cumming, who has been accused of exaggeration (but in my opinion very wrongfully accused), has written a very modest and truthful book, which tells you that there are four kinds of rhinoceroses in southern africa; and no man is likely to know better than he. these four kinds are known among the natives as the "borele," the "keitloa," the "muchocho," and "kobaoba." the two first are "black rhinoceroses,"--that is, the general colour of their skin is dark--while the "muchocho" and "kobaoba" are white varieties, having the skin of a dingy whitish hue. the black rhinoceroses are much smaller--scarce half the size of the others, and they differ from them in the length and set of their horns, as _well_ as in other particulars. the horns of the "borele" are placed--as in all rhinoceroses,--upon a bony mass over the nostrils,--hence the word "rhinoceros" (_rhis_, the nose, _chiras_, a horn.) in the "borele" they stand erect, curving slightly backwards, and one behind the other. the anterior horn is the longer--rarely above eighteen inches in length--but it is often broken or rubbed shorter, and in no two individuals is there equality in this respect. the posterior horn in this species is only a sort of knob; whereas in the "keitloa," or two-horned black rhinoceros, both horns are developed to a nearly equal length. in the "muchocho" and "kobaoba," the after horns can hardly be said to exist, but the anterior one in both species far exceeds in length those of the borele and keitloa. in the muchocho it is frequently three feet in length, while the kobaoba is often seen with a horn four feet long, jutting out from the end of its ugly snout--a fearful weapon! the horns of the two last do not curve back, but point forward; and as both these carry their heads low down the long sharp spike is often borne horizontally. in the form and length of their neck, the set of their ears, and other respects, the black rhinoceroses differ materially from the white ones. in fact, their habits are quite unlike. the former feed chiefly on the leaves and twigs of thorns, such as the _acacia horrida_, or "wait-a-bits," while the latter live upon grass. the former are of fiercer disposition--will attack man or any other animal on sight; and even sometimes seem to grow angry with the bushes, charging upon them and breaking them to pieces! the white rhinoceroses, although fierce enough when wounded or provoked, are usually of pacific disposition, and will permit the hunter to pass without molestation. these become very fat, and make excellent eating. the flesh of no african animal is esteemed superior to the calf of the white rhinoceros, whereas the black varieties never grow fat, and their flesh is tough and unpalatable. the horns of all four are used by the natives for many purposes, being solid, of fine texture, and susceptible of a high polish. out of the longer horns the natives manufacture "knobkerries" (clubs), and loading-rods for their guns. the shorter ones afford material for mallets, drinking-cups, handles for small tools, and the like. in abyssinia, and other parts of northern africa, where swords are in use, sword-hilts are made from the horns of the rhinoceros. the hide is also used for different purposes, among others for making the whips known as "jamboks," though hippopotamus-hide is superior. the skin of the african rhinoceros, as already stated, is without the plaits, folds, and scutellae, that characterise its asiatic congener, yet it is far from being a soft one. it is so thick and difficult to pierce, that a bullet of ordinary lead will sometimes flatten upon it. to ensure its penetrating, the lead must be hardened with solder. the rhinoceros, though not a water animal, like the hippopotamus, is nevertheless fond of that element, and is rarely found at a great distance from it. all four kinds love to lie and wallow in mud, just as hogs in a summer's day; and they are usually seen coated all over with this substance. during the day they may be observed lying down or standing under the shade of some thick mimosa-tree, either asleep or in a state of easy indolence; and it is during the night that they wander about in search of food and water. if approached from the lee side they can easily be got at, as their small sparkling eyes do not serve them well. on the contrary, if the hunter go to windward, they will scent him at a great distance, as their sense of smell is most acute. if their eyes were only as keen as their nostrils, it would be a dangerous game to attack them, for they can run with sufficient rapidity to overtake a horse in the first charge. in charging and running, the black variety far excels the white. they are easily avoided, however, by the hunter springing quickly to one side, and letting them rush blindly on. the black rhinoceros is about six feet high at the shoulder, and full thirteen in length; while the white kinds are far larger. the "kobaoba" is full seven feet high, and fourteen in length! no wonder that an animal of these extraordinary dimensions was at first sight taken for the elephant. in fact, the kobaoba rhinoceros is the quadruped next to the elephant in size; and with his great muzzle--full eighteen inches broad--his long clumsy head, his vast ponderous body, this animal impresses one with an idea of strength and massive grandeur as great, and some say greater than the elephant himself. he looks, indeed, like a caricature of the elephant. it was not such a bad mistake, then, when our people by the wagon took the "kobaoba" for the "mighty elephant." swartboy, however, set them all right by declaring that the animal they saw was the white rhinoceros. chapter eighteen. a heavy combat. when they first saw the kobaoba, he was, as stated, just coming out of the thicket. without halting, he headed in the direction of the vley already mentioned; and kept on towards it, his object evidently being to reach the water. this little lake, of course, owed its existence to the spring--though it was full two hundred yards from the latter--and about the same from the great tree. it was nearly circular in shape, and about one hundred yards in diameter, so that its superficial area would thus be a little over two english acres. it merited, then, the name of "lake;" and by that name the young people already called it. on its upper side--that in the direction of the spring--its shore was high, and in one or two places rocky, and these rocks ran back to the spring along the channel of a little rivulet. on the west or outer side of the lake the land lay lower, and the water at one or two points lipped up nearly to the level of the plain. for this reason it was, that upon that side, the bank was paddled all over with tracks of animals that had been to drink. hendrik the hunter had observed among them the footprints of many kinds he knew nothing about. it was for the lower end of the lake the kobaoba was making--no doubt with him an old and favourite drinking-place. there was a point where the water was easier of access than elsewhere--a little to one side of where the wash or waste-stream of the lake ran out. it was a sort of cove with bright sandy beach, and approachable from the plain by a miniature gorge, hollowed out, no doubt, by the long usage of those animals who came to drink at the vley. by entering this cove, the tallest animals might get deep water and good bottom, so that they could drink without much straining or stooping. the kobaoba came on in a direct line for the lake; and as he drew near, they could see him heading for the gorge that led into the little cove. it proved he had been there before. next moment he passed through the gap, and stood knee-deep in the water. after swallowing several copious draughts--now sneezing, and then wheezing--he plunged his broad snout, horn and all, into the water, tossed it till it foamed, and then lying down in it, commenced wallowing like a hog. the place was shallow, and most of his huge body was above the surface-- though there was deep enough water in the lake to have given him a bath had he desired it. the first thought of von bloom, as well as of hendrik, was how to "circumvent" the rhinoceros, and of course destroy him. not that they simply wished his destruction; but swartboy had already represented what fine food the species was, and there was no stock of provision in camp. hendrik had another object in wishing the death of the creature. he wanted a new loading-rod for his rifle; and he had gazed covetously at the kobaoba's long horn. but it was easier to desire the death of the rhinoceros than to accomplish it. they had no horses--at least none that could be mounted--and to attack the animal on foot would be a game as dangerous as idle. he would be like enough to impale one of them on his great spike, or else trample them brutally under his huge feet. if he did not do one or the other, he would easily make his escape--as any kind of rhinoceros can outrun a man. how were they to manage him then? perhaps they might get near--fire at him from an ambush, and with a lucky shot stretch him out. a single bullet sometimes kills the rhinoceros--but only when correctly placed, so as to penetrate the heart, or some other of the "vitals." this was, probably, the best plan. they might easily get near enough. there was some bush cover close to the spot. it was probable the old kobaoba would not perceive them, if they approached from leeward, particularly as he seemed in the full tide of enjoyment at that moment. they were about to attempt the approach, and had got to their feet for that purpose, when a sudden fit seemed to have attacked swartboy. the latter commenced jumping over the ground, at the same time muttering in a low voice,-- "da klow! da klow!" a stranger would have fancied swartboy in a fit, but von bloom knew that by "da klow! da klow!" the bushman meant "the elephant! the elephant!" and therefore looked in the direction in which swartboy was pointing. sure enough, upon the western plain, looming up against the yellow sky, was a dark mass, that upon examination presented the outlines of an elephant. its rounded back was easily distinguished over the low bushes; and its broad hanging ears were moving as it marched. all saw at a glance that it was coming towards the lake, and almost in the same track that the rhinoceros had taken. of course this new apparition quite disarranged the plans of the hunters. at sight of the mighty elephant, they scarce any longer gave a thought to the kobaoba. not that they had formed any very great hopes of being able to kill the gigantic animal, yet some such thought was running through their minds. they had determined to try, at all events. before they could agree upon any plan, however, the elephant had got up to the edge of the lake. though moving only at a slow walk, with his immense strides he soon measured off a large quantity of ground, and advanced much more rapidly than one would have supposed. the hunters had scarce time to exchange thoughts, before the huge creature was up within a few yards of the water. here he halted, pointed his proboscis in different directions, stood quite silent, and seemed to listen. there was no noise to disturb him--even the kobaoba for the moment was quiet. after standing a minute or so, the huge creature moved forward again, and entered the gorge already described. they at the camp had now a full view of him, at less than three hundred yards distance. an immense mass he seemed. his body quite filled the gorge from side to side, and his long yellow tusks projecting more than two yards from his jaws, curved gracefully upward. he was an "old bull," as swartboy whispered. up to this time the rhinoceros had not had the slightest intimation of the elephant's approach; for the tread of the latter--big beast as he is--is as silent as a cat's. it is true that a loud rumbling noise like distant thunder proceeded from his inside as he moved along; but the kobaoba was in too high a caper just then to have heard or noticed any sound that was not very near and distinct. the huge body of the elephant coming suddenly into "his sunshine," and flinging its dark shadow over the vley, was distinct enough, and caused the kobaoba to get to his feet with an agility quite surprising for a creature of his build. at the same time a noise, something between a grunt and a whistle escaped him, as the water was ejected from his nostrils. the elephant also uttered his peculiar salute in a trumpet note, that echoed from the cliffs and halted in his tracks as soon as he saw the rhinoceros. no doubt both were surprised at the rencontre as both stood for some seconds eyeing each other with apparent astonishment. this, however, soon gave place to a different feeling. symptoms of anger began to show themselves. it was evident that bad blood was brewing between them. there was, in fact, a little dilemma. the elephant could not get comfortably at the water unless the rhinoceros left the cove; and the rhinoceros could not well get out of the cove, so long as the elephant blocked up the gorge with his immense thick limbs. it is true, the kobaoba might have sneaked through among the other's legs, or he might have swum off and landed at some other point, and in either way have left the coast clear. but of all animals in the world a rhinoceros is, perhaps, the most unaccommodating. he is, also, one of the most fearless, dreading neither man nor beast--not even the boasted lion, whom he often chases like a cat. hence the old kobaoba had no intention of yielding ground to the elephant; and from his attitude, it was plain that he neither intended to sneak off under the other's belly, nor swim a single stroke for him. no--not a stroke. it remained to be seen how the point of honour was to be decided. the attitude of affairs had become so interesting, that every one by the camp was gazing with fixed eyes upon the two great bulls--for the rhinoceros was also a "bull" and of the largest size known of his kind. for several minutes they stood eyeing each other. the elephant, although much the larger, knew his antagonist well. he had met his "sort" before, and knew better than to despise his powers. perhaps, ere now, he had had a touch of that long spit-like excrescence that stood out from the kobaoba's snout. at all events, he did not rush upon his adversary at once--as he would have done on some poor antelope that might have crossed him in the same way. his patience, however, became exhausted. his ancient dignity was insulted--his rule disputed--he wished to have his bath and his drink-- he could bear the insolence of the rhinoceros no longer. with a bellow that made the rocks ring again, he charged forward; placed his tusks firmly under the shoulder of his adversary,--gave a mighty "lift," and turned the rhinoceros over in the water! for a moment the latter plunged, and blowed, and snorted, his head half under water; but in a second's time he was on his feet again, and charging in turn. the spectators could see that he aimed right at the elephant's ribs with his horn, and that the latter did all he could to keep head towards him. again the elephant flung the kobaoba, and again the latter rose and charged madly upon his huge antagonist; and so both fought until the water around them was white with foam. the contest was carried on _in_ the water, until the elephant, seeming to think his adversary had an advantage there, backed himself into the gorge, and stood waiting with his head towards the lake. in this position the sides of the gorge did not protect him, as perhaps he fancied. they were too low, and his broad flanks rose far above them. they only kept him from turning round, and this interfered with the freedom of his movements. it could scarce have been design in the rhinoceros to act as he now did, though it appeared so to those who were watching. as the elephant took up his position in the gorge, the kobaoba clambered out upon the bank; and then, wheeling suddenly, with head to the ground and long horn projected horizontally, the latter rushed upon his antagonist and struck him right among the ribs. the spectators saw that the horn penetrated, and the loud scream that came from the elephant, with the quick motions of his trunk and tail, told plainly that he had received a severe wound. instead of standing any longer in the gorge he rushed forward, and did not stop until he was knee-deep in the lake. drawing the water up into his trunk, he raised it on high, and pointing it backwards, he discharged large volumes over his body, and upon the spot where he had received the thrust of the kobaoba's horn. he then ran out of the lake, and charged about in search of the rhinoceros; but long-horn was nowhere to be found! having escaped from the cove without compromising his dignity, and perhaps believing that he had gained the victory, the rhinoceros, as soon as he delivered the thrust, had galloped off and disappeared among the bushes. chapter nineteen. the death of the elephant. the battle between these two large quadrupeds did not continue for more than ten minutes. during that time the hunters made no advance towards attacking either of them--so much absorbed were they in watching the novel contest. it was only after the rhinoceros had retreated, and the elephant returned to the water, that they once more began to deliberate on some plan of assaulting this mightiest of african animals. hans now laid hold of his gun and joined them. the elephant, after looking about for his enemy had got back, and was standing knee-deep in the lake. he appeared restless and highly excited. his tail was continually in motion, and at intervals he uttered a piercing melancholy scream--far different to the usual trumpet-like bellow of his voice. he lifted his huge limbs, and then plunged them back again to the bottom, until the foam gathered upon the water with his continued churning. but the oddest of his actions was the manner in which he employed his long tubular trunk. with this he sucked up vast volumes of water, and then pointing it backwards ejected the fluid over his back and shoulders, as if from an immense syringe. this shower-bath he kept repeating time after time, though it was evident he was not at his ease. they all knew he was angry. swartboy said it would be exceedingly dangerous to be seen by him at that moment, without having a horse to gallop out of his way. on this account every one of them had concealed themselves behind the trunk of the nwana-tree, von bloom peeping past one side, and hendrik the other, in order to watch his movements. notwithstanding the danger, they at length resolved to attack him. they believed that if they did not do so soon, he would walk off, and leave them supperless--for they had hoped to sup upon a slice of his trunk. time, therefore, had grown precious, and they resolved to attack him without further ado. they intended to creep as near as was safe. all three would fire together, and then lie close in the bushes until they saw the effect of their shots. without further parley, von bloom, hans, and hendrik, leaving the tree, crept through the bushes towards the western end of the lake. it was not a continuous thicket, but only an assemblage of copses and clumps, so that they required to steal very cautiously from one to the other. von bloom led the way, while the boys kept in his tracks, following him closely. after some five minutes spent in this way they got under cover of a little clump near the water's edge, and near enough to the gigantic game. upon their hands and knees they now approached the verge of the underwood; and having parted the leaves, looked through. the mighty quadruped was right under their eyes, within twenty yards of them! he was still busy plunging about, and blowing volumes of water over his body. he gave no sign that he had any suspicion of their presence. they could take time, therefore, in choosing a part of his huge body at which to aim their pieces. when first seen from their new position, he was standing stern towards them. von bloom did not think it a good time to fire, as they could not give him a deadly wound in that situation. they waited, therefore, until he might turn his side, before they should deliver their volley. they kept their eyes all the while steadily fixed on him. he ceased at length to "churn" with his feet, and no longer raised water in his trunk; and now the hunters perceived that the lake was red for a space around him! it was his blood that had reddened it. they no longer doubted that he had been wounded by the rhinoceros; but whether the wound was a bad one they could not tell. it was in his side, and as yet they could only see his broad stern from the position in which he still continued to stand. but they waited with confidence-- as they knew that in turning to get out of the water, he would have to present his side towards them. for several minutes he kept the same position, but they noticed that his tail no longer switched about, and that his attitude was loose and drooping. now and then he turned his proboscis to the spot where he had received the thrust of the kobaoba's horn. it was evident that the wound was distressing him, and this became more apparent by the loud painful breathing the creature uttered through his trunk. the three began to grow impatient. hendrik asked leave to creep round to another point, and give him a shot that would turn him round. just at that moment the elephant made a motion, as though he was about to come out of the water. he had got fairly round--his head and forepart were over dry land--the three guns were pointed--the eyes of the three hunters were about to glance through the sights of their pieces, when all at once he was seen to rock and stagger,--and then roll over! with a loud plash, his vast body subsided into the water, sending great waves to every corner of the lake. the hunters uncocked their guns, and, springing from their ambush, rushed forward to the bank. they saw at a glance that the elephant was dead. they saw the wound upon his side,--the hole made by the horn of the rhinoceros. it was not very large, but the terrible weapon had penetrated far into his body, into his very vitals. no wonder, then, at the result it had produced--the death of the mightiest of quadrupeds. as soon as it became known that the elephant was dead, everybody was seen rushing forward to the spot. little truey and jan were called from their hiding-place--for they had both been hidden in the wagon--and totty, too, went down with the rest. swartboy was one of the first upon the spot, carrying an axe and a large knife--for swartboy had designs upon the carcass--while hans and hendrik both threw off their jackets to assist in the butchering operations. and what during this time was von bloom about? ha! that is a more important question than you think for. that was an important hour--the hour of a great crisis in the life of the field-cornet. he was standing with folded arms on the bank of the lake, directly over the spot where the elephant had fallen. he appeared to be wrapt in silent meditation, his eyes bent upon the huge carcass of the animal. no, not on the carcass. a close observer would have perceived that his eyes did not wander over that mountain of thick skin and flesh, but were resting upon a particular spot. was it the wound in the animal's side? and was von bloom meditating how the thrust had caused the death of such a huge creature? neither one nor the other. his thoughts were upon a very different theme from either. the elephant had fallen so that his head was clear of the water, and rested upon a little bank of sand; along which, his soft and limber trunk lay extended to its full length. curving like a pair of gigantic scimitars from its base, were the yellow enamelled tusks; those ivory arms that for years,--ay centuries, perhaps,--had served him to root up the trees of the forest, and rout his antagonists in many a dread encounter. precious and beautiful trophies were they, but alas! their world-wide fame had cost no less than life to many thousands of his race. shining in all their magnificence lay these mated crescents, gently curved and softly rounded. it was upon _these_ that the eyes of the field-cornet were bent. ay, and bent too with an eagerness unusual in his glance. his lips were compressed, his chest was visibly heaving. oh! there was a world of thoughts passing through the mind of von bloom at that moment. were they painful thoughts? the expression of his face told the contrary. the cloud that all that day sat perched upon his brow had vanished. not a trace of it remained, but in its place could be seen the lines of hope and joy, and these feelings at length found expression in words. "it is the hand of heaven!" he exclaimed aloud. "a fortune--a fortune!" "what is it, papa?" inquired little truey, who was near him; "what were you speaking about, dear papa?" and then all the others gathered around him, noticing his excited manner, and pleased at seeing him look so happy. "what is it, papa?" asked all together, while swartboy and totty stood eager as the rest to hear the answer. in the pleasant excitement of his thoughts, the fond father could no longer conceal from his children the secret of his new-born happiness. he would gratify them by disclosing it. pointing to the long crescents he said,-- "you see those beautiful tusks?" yes, of course, they all did. "well, do you know their value?" no. they knew they were worth something. they knew that it was from elephants' tusks that ivory was obtained, or, more properly, that elephants' tusks were ivory itself; and that it was used in the manufacture of hundreds of articles. in fact, little truey had a beautiful fan made out of it, which had been her mother's; and jan had a knife with an ivory handle. ivory was a very beautiful material and cost very dear, they knew. all this they knew, but the value of the two tusks they could not guess at. they said so. "well, my children," said von bloom, "as near as i can estimate them, they are worth twenty pounds each of english money." "oh! oh! such a grand sum!" cried all in a breath. "yes," continued the field-cornet; "i should think each tusk is one hundred pounds in weight, and as ivory at present sells for four shillings and sixpence the pound weight, these two would yield between forty and fifty pounds of sterling money." "why, it would buy a full span of best oxen!" cried hans. "four good horses!" said hendrik. "a whole flock of sheep!" added little jan. "but whom can we sell them to?" asked hendrik, after a pause. "we are away from the settlements. who is to give us either oxen, or horses, or sheep, for them? it would not be worth while to carry two tusks all the way--" "not _two_, hendrik," said his father, interrupting him; "but _twenty_ it might,--ay, twice twenty, or three times that number. now, do you understand what makes me so gay?" "oh!" exclaimed hendrik, as well as the others, who now began to perceive what their father was so joyed about, "you think we can obtain more tusks in these parts?" "precisely so. i think there are many elephants here. i feel certain of it from the quantity of their spoor i have already noticed. we have our guns, and fortunately, plenty of ammunition. we are all pretty fair shots--why can we not obtain more of these valuable trophies? "but we shall," continued von bloom. "i know we shall, because i recognise the hand of god in sending us this wealth in the midst of our misery--after we had lost everything. more will come by the guiding of the same hand. so be of good cheer, my children! we shall not want--we shall yet have plenty--we may be _rich_!" it was not that any of those young creatures cared much about being rich, but because they saw their father so happy, that they broke out into something more than a murmur of applause. it was, in fact, a cheer, in which both totty and swartboy joined. it rang over the little lake, and caused the birds about settling to roost to wonder what was going on. there was no happier group in all africa than stood at that moment upon the shore of that lonely little vley. chapter twenty. turned hunters. the field-cornet, then, had resolved upon turning hunter by profession-- a hunter of elephants; and it was a pleasant reflection to think, that this occupation promised, not only exciting sport, but great profit. he knew that it was not so easy a matter to succeed in killing such large and valuable game as elephants. he did not suppose that in a few weeks or months he would obtain any great quantities of their ivory spoils; but he had made up his mind to spend even years in the pursuit. for years he should lead the life of a bushman--for years his sons would be "bush-boys," and he hoped that in time his patience and toil would be amply rewarded. that night around the camp-fire all were very happy and very merry. the elephant had been left where he lay, to be cut up on the morrow. only his trunk had been taken off--part of which was cooked for supper. although all the flesh of the elephant is eatable, the trunk is esteemed one of the delicate bits. it tastes not unlike ox-tongue; and all of them liked it exceedingly. to swartboy, who had made many a meal upon "de ole klow," it was a highly-relished feast. they had plenty of fine milk, too. the cow, now upon the best of pasture, doubled her yield; and the quantity of this, the most delicious of all drinks, was sufficient to give every one a large allowance. while enjoying their new-fashioned dish of roast elephant-trunk, the conversation naturally turned upon these animals. everybody knows the appearance of the elephant, therefore a description of him is quite superfluous. but everybody does not know that there are two distinct kinds of this gigantic quadruped--the _african_ and _asiatic_. until a late period they were thought to be of the same species. now they are acknowledged to be, not only distinct, but very different in many respects. the asiatic, or, as it is more frequently called, the "indian" elephant is the larger of the two; but it is possible that domestication may have produced a larger kind, as is the rule with many animals. the african species exists only in a wild state; and it would appear that individuals of this kind have been measured having the dimensions of the largest of the _wild_ asiatic elephants. the most remarkable points of difference between the two are found in the ears and tusks. the ears of the african elephant are of enormous proportions, meeting each other above the shoulders, and hanging down below the breast. those of the indian elephant are scarce one-third the size. in his grand tusks the former has far the advantage--these in some individuals weighing nearly two hundred pounds each--while the tusks of the latter rarely reach the weight of one hundred. to this, however, there are some exceptions. of course a two hundred pound tusk is one of the very largest, and far above the average even of african elephants. in this species the females are also provided with tusks-- though not of such size as in the males--whereas the female of the indian elephant has either no tusks at all, or they are so small as to be scarcely perceptible outside the skin of the lips. the other chief points of difference between the two are that the front of the asiatic elephant is concave, while that of the african is convex; and the former has four horny toes or _sabots_ on the hind-foot, where only three appear upon that of the latter. the enamel of the teeth presents still another proof of these animals being different in species. nor are all asiatic elephants alike. in this species there are varieties which present very distinct features; and, indeed, these "varieties," as they are called, appear to differ from each other, nearly as much as any one of them does from the african kind. one variety known among orientals by the name of "mooknah," has straight tusks that _point downward_, whereas the usual habit of these singular appendages is to _curve upward_. asiatics recognise two main _castes_, or perhaps species, among their elephants. one known as "coomareah," is a deep-bodied, compact, and strong animal, with large trunk and short legs. the other called "merghee," is a taller kind, but neither so compact nor strong as the coomareah, nor has he so large a trunk. his long legs enable him to travel faster than the coomareah; but the latter having a larger trunk (a point of beauty among elephant-owners) and being capable of enduring more fatigue, is the favourite, and fetches a larger price in the oriental market. occasionally a _white_ elephant is met with. this is simply an "albino," but such are greatly prized in many countries of asia, and large sums are given for them. they are even held in superstitious veneration in some parts. the indian elephant at the present time inhabits most of the southern countries of asia, including the large islands, ceylon, java, sumatra, borneo, etcetera. of course every one knows that in these countries the elephant has been trained long ago to the use of man, and is one of the "domestic animals." but he also exists in a wild state, both upon the continent of asia and in its islands; and hunting the elephant is one of the grand sport of the east. in africa the elephant exists _only_ in a state of nature. none of the nations upon this little-known continent tame or train him to any purpose. he is only prized among them for his precious tusks, and his flesh as well. some have asserted that this species is more fierce than its indian congener, and could not be domesticated. this is altogether a mistake. the reason why the african elephant is not trained, is simply that none of the modern nations of africa have yet reached a high enough point of civilisation to avail themselves of the services of this valuable animal. the african elephant may be domesticated and trained to the "howdah," or castle, as easily as his indian cousin. the trial has been made; but that it can be done no better proof is required than that at one period it was done, and upon a large scale. the elephants of the carthaginian army were of this species. the african elephant at present inhabits the central and southern parts of africa. abyssinia on the east, and senegal on the west, are his northern limits, and but a few years ago he roamed southward to the very cape of good hope. the activity of the dutch ivory-hunters, with their enormous long guns, has driven him from that quarter; and he is no longer to be found to the south of the orange river. some naturalists (cuvier among others) believed the abyssinian elephant to be of the indian species. that idea is now exploded, and there is no reason to think that the latter inhabits any part of africa. it is very likely there are varieties of the african species in different parts of the continent. it is well-known that those of the tropical regions are larger than the others; and a _reddish and very fierce_ kind is said to be met with in the mountains of africa, upon the river niger. it is probable, however, that these _red_ elephants seen have been some whose bodies were coated with red dust, as it is a habit of elephants to powder themselves with dust on many occasions, using their trunks as "dredgers." swartboy spoke of a variety well-known among the hottentot hunters as the "koes-cops." this kind, he said, differed from the ordinary ones by its altogether wanting the tusks, and being of a far more vicious disposition. its encounter is more dreaded; but as it possesses no trophies to make it worth the trouble and danger of killing, the hunters usually give it a wide berth. such was the conversation that night around the camp-fire. much of the information here given was furnished by hans, who of course had gathered it from books; but the bushman contributed his quota--perhaps of a far more reliable character. all were destined ere long to make practical acquaintance with the haunts and habits of this huge quadruped, that to them had now become the most interesting of all the animal creation. chapter twenty one. "jerking" an elephant. next day was one of severe, but joyful labour. it was spent in "curing" the elephant, not in a _medical_ sense, but in the language of the provision-store. although not equal to either beef or mutton, or even pork, the flesh of the elephant is sufficiently palatable to be eaten. there is no reason why it should not be, for the animal is a clean feeder, and lives altogether on vegetable substances--the leaves and tender shoots of trees, with several species of bulbous roots, which he well knows how to extract from the ground with his tusks and trunk. it does not follow from this that his _beef_ should be well tasted--since we see that the hog, one of the most unclean of feeders, yields most delicious "pork;" while another of the same family (_pachydermatii_) that subsists only on sweet succulent roots, produces a flesh both insipid and bitter. i allude to the south american tapir. the quality of the food, therefore, is no criterion of the quality of the flesh. it is true that the beef of the elephant was not what von bloom and most of his family would have chosen for their regular diet. had they been sure of procuring a supply of antelope venison, the great carcass might have gone, not to the "dogs," but to their kindred the hyenas. but they were not sure of getting even a single antelope, and therefore decided upon "curing" the elephant. it would be a safe stock to have on hand, and need not interfere with their eating venison, or any other dainty that might turn up. the first thing done was to cut out the tusks. this proved a tough job, and occupied full two hours. fortunately there was a good axe on hand. but for this and swartboy's knowledge, double the time might have been wasted in the operation. the ivory having been extracted and put away in a safe place, the "cutting up" then commenced in earnest. von bloom and swartboy were the "baas-butchers," while hans and hendrik played the part of "swabs." as the carcass lay half under water, they would have had some difficulty in dealing with the under part. but this they did not design to touch. the upper half would be amply sufficient to provision them a long while; and so they set about removing the skin from that side that was uppermost. the rough thick outer coat they removed in broad sheets cut into sections; and then they peeled off several coats of an under-skin, of tough and pliant nature. had they needed water-vessels, swartboy would have saved this for making them--as it is used for such purposes by the bushmen and other natives. but they had vessels enough in the wagon, and this skin was thrown away. they had now reached the pure flesh, which they separated in large sheets from the ribs; and then the ribs were cut out, one by one, with the axe. this trouble they would not have taken--as they did not want the ribs--but they cut them away for another reason, namely, to enable them to get at the valuable fat, which lies in enormous quantities around the intestines. of course for all cooking purposes, the fat would be to them invaluable, and indeed almost necessary to render the flesh itself eatable. it is no easy matter to get at the fat in the inside of an elephant, as the whole of the intestines have first to be removed. but swartboy was not to be deterred by a little trouble; so _climbing into the interior_ of the huge carcass, he commenced cutting and delving, and every now and then passing a multitude of "inwards" out to the others, who carried them off out of the way. after a long spell of this work, the fat was secured, and carefully packed in a piece of clean under-skin; and then the "butchering" was finished. of course the four feet, which along with the trunk are considered the "tit-bits," had already been separated at the fetlock joint; and stood out upon the bank, for the future consideration of swartboy. the next thing to be done was to "cure" the meat. they had a stock of suit--that precious, though, as lately discovered, _not_ indispensable article. but the quantity--stowed away in a dry corner of the wagon-- was small, and would have gone but a short way in curing an elephant. they had no idea of using it for such a purpose. flesh can be preserved without salt; and not only swartboy, but von bloom himself, knew how to preserve it. in all countries where salt is scarce, the process of "jerking" meat is well understood, and consists simply in cutting it into thin strips and hanging it out in the sun. a few days of bright warm sunshine will "jerk" it sufficiently; and meat thus dried will keep good for months. a slow fire will answer the purpose nearly as well; and in the absence of sunshine, the fire is often resorted to. sun-dried meat in south africa is called "biltongue." the spaniards of mexico name it "tasajo," while those of peru style it "charqui." in english it is "jerked" meat. several hours were spent in cutting the elephant-beef into strips, and then a number of forked poles were set up, others were laid horizontally over the forks, and upon these the meat was suspended, and hung down in numberless festoons. before the sun went down, the neighbourhood of the camp presented a rare appearance. it looked somewhat like the enclosure of a yarn-bleacher, except that the hanging strips, instead of being white, were of a beautiful clear ruby colour. but the work was not yet completed. the feet remained to be "preserved," and the mode of curing these was entirely different. that was a secret known only to swartboy, and in the execution of it the bushman played first fiddle, with the important air of a _chef de cuisine_. he proceeded as follows:-- he first dug a hole in the ground, about two feet deep, and a little more in diameter--just large enough to admit one of the feet, which was nearly two feet diameter at the base. the earth which came out of this hole swartboy placed in the form of a loose embankment around the edge. by his direction the boys had already collected upon the spot a large quantity of dried branches and logs. these swartboy now built over the hole, into a pyramid of ten feet high, and then set the pile on fire. he next proceeded to make three other pits precisely similar, and built over each a fire like the first, until four large fires were burning upon the ground. the fires being now fairly under way, he could only wait until each had burned down. this would carry the process into the night, and so it turned out; but swartboy had a foresight of this. he knew he would get through with the more important portion of his work before bedtime. when the first fire had burned quite to red cinders, swartboy's hardest turn of duty began. with a shovel he lifted the cinders out of the hole, until it was empty; but he was more than an hour in performing this apparently simple labour. the difficulty arose from the intense heat he had to encounter, which drove him back after every few moments' work; so that he was compelled to retreat at intervals in order to cool himself. the "baas," as well as hendrik and hans, took turns with him, until all four were perspiring as if they had been shut up for half-an-hour in a baker's oven. when the hole was thoroughly scooped clean of coals, swartboy, assisted by von bloom, lifted one of the huge feet; and, carrying it as near as they dare go on account of the scorching heat, they dropped it in upon its base. the sandy earth which had been originally removed, and which was now as hot as molten lead, was pushed over, and around the foot; and then the cinders were raked on top, and over that another huge fire was kindled. the same process was gone through with the other three feet, and all four were to be left in the "oven" until the fires should be burned down, when they would be found sufficiently baked. swartboy would then rake off the cinders, take out the feet with a sharp wooden spit, beat them well to get rid of the dust, scrape the sand clear, then pare off the outside skin, when they would be ready either to be eaten or would keep for a long time. swartboy would do all this as soon as the four huge bonfires should burn down. but that would not be before the morning; so all of them, fatigued by the extraordinary exertions of the day, finished their suppers of broiled trunk, and went to rest under the protecting shadow of the nwana. chapter twenty two. the hideous hyena. fatigued as they were, they would soon have fallen asleep. but they were not permitted to do so. as they lay with closed eyes in that half-dreamy state that precedes sleep, they were suddenly startled by strange voices near the camp. these voices were uttered in peals of loud laughter; and no one, unacquainted with them, would have pronounced them to be anything else than the voices of human beings. they exactly resembled the strong treble produced by the laugh of a maniac negro. it seemed as if some bedlam of negroes had been let loose, and were approaching the spot. i say approaching, because each moment the sounds grew clearer and louder; and it was evident that whatever gave utterance to them was coming nearer to the camp. that there was more than one creature was evident--ay, and it was equally evident that there was more than one _kind_ of creature; for so varied were the voices, it would have puzzled a ventriloquist to have given imitations of them all. there was howling, and whining, and grunting, and growling, and low melancholy moaning as of some one in pain, and hissing, and chattering, and short sharp intonations, as if it were the barking of dogs, and then a moment or two of deep silence, and again that chorus of human-like laughter, that in point of horror and hideous suggestions surpassed all the other sounds. you will suppose that such a wild concert must have put the camp in a state of great alarm. not a bit of it. nobody was frightened the least--not even innocent little truey, nor the diminutive jan. had they been strangers to these sounds, no doubt they would have been more than frightened. they would have been terrified by them; for they were calculated to produce such an effect upon any one to whose ears they were new. but von bloom and his family had lived too long upon the wild karoo to be ignorant of those voices. in the howling, and chattering, and yelping, they heard but the cries of the jackal; and they well knew the maniac laugh of the hideous hyena. instead of being alarmed, and springing from their beds, they lay still and listened--not dreading any attack from the noisy creatures. von bloom and the children slept in the wagon; swartboy and totty upon the ground--but these lay close to the fires, and therefore did not fear wild beasts of any kind. but the hyenas and jackals upon this occasion appeared to be both numerous and bold. in a few minutes after they were first heard, their cries rose around the camp on all sides, so near and so loud as to be positively disagreeable--even without considering the nature of the brutes that uttered them. at last they came so close, that it was impossible to look in any direction without seeing a pair of green or red eyes gleaming under the light of the fires! white teeth, too, could be observed, as the hyenas opened their jaws, to give utterance to their harsh laughter-like cries. with such a sight before their eyes, and such sounds ringing in their ears, neither von bloom nor any of his people--tired as they were--could go to sleep. indeed, not only was sleep out of the question, but, worse than that, all--the field-cornet himself not excepted--began to experience some feelings of apprehension, if not actual alarm. they had never beheld a troop of hyenas so numerous and fierce. there could not be less than two dozen of them around the camp, with twice that number of jackals. von bloom knew that although, under ordinary circumstances, the hyena is not a dangerous animal, yet there are places and times when he will attack human beings. swartboy knew this well, and hans, too, from having read of it. no wonder, then, that some apprehension was felt by all of them. the hyenas now behaved with such boldness, and appeared so ravenous, that sleep was out of the question. some demonstration must be made to drive the brutes away from the camp. von bloom, hans, and hendrik, laid hold of their guns, and got out of the wagon, while swartboy armed himself with his bow and arrows. all four stood close by the trunk of the nwana, on the other side from that where the fires were. in this place they were in the shadow, where they could best observe anything that should come under the light of the fires without being themselves seen. their position was well chosen. they had scarcely fixed themselves in it, when they perceived a great piece of neglect they had been guilty of. now, for the first time it occurred to them what had brought the hyenas around them in such numbers. beyond a doubt it was the flesh of the elephant,--the _biltongue_. that was what the beasts were after; and all now saw that a mistake had been committed in hanging the meat too low. the hyenas might easily get at it. this was soon made manifest; for, even at the moment while they stood watching the red festoons, plainly visible under the light of swartboy's fires, a shaggy spotted brute rushed forward, reared up on his hind-legs, seized one of the pieces, dragged it down from the pole, and then ran off with it into the darkness. a rushing sound could be heard as the others joined him to get share of his plunder; and, no doubt, in less than half a minute the morsel was consumed; for, at the end of that time, glancing eyes and gleaming teeth showed that the whole troop was back again and ready to make a fresh seizure. none of the hunters had fired, as the nimbleness with which the brutes moved about rendered it difficult to take aim at any one of them; and all knew that powder and lead were too precious to be wasted on a "flying shot." emboldened by their success, the hyenas had now drawn nearer, and in a moment more would have made a general charge upon the scaffolds of flesh, and, no doubt, would have succeeded in carrying off a large quantity of it. but just then it occurred to von bloom that it would be best to lay aside their guns and remedy the mistake they had made, by putting the biltongue out of reach. if they did not do so, they would either have to remain awake all night and guard it, or else lose every string of it. how was it to be put out of reach? at first they thought of collecting it into a heap and stowing it away in the wagon. that would not only be an unpleasant job, but it would interfere with their sleeping-quarters. an alternative, however, presented itself. they saw that if the scaffolds were only high enough, the meat might be easily hung so as to be out of reach of the hyenas. the only question was, how to place the cross-poles a little higher. in the darkness they could not obtain a new set of uprights, and therein lay the difficulty. how were they to get over it? hans had the credit of suggesting a way: and that was, to take out some of the uprights, splice them to the others, with the forked ends uppermost, and then rest the horizontal poles on the upper forks. that would give a scaffold tall enough to hang the meat beyond the reach of either jackals or hyenas. hans's suggestion was at once adopted. half of the uprights were taken up and spliced against the others so as to raise their forks full twelve feet in the air; and then the cross-poles were rested over their tops. by standing upon one of the wagon-chests, von bloom was able to fling the strips of meat over the horizontal poles, and in such a manner that it hung only a few inches down, and was now quite beyond the reach of the ravenous brutes. when the business was finished, the party resumed their station under the shadow of the tree, intending to watch for a while, and see how the wolfish intruders would act. they had not long to watch. in less than five minutes the troop approached the biltongue, howling, and gibbering, and laughing, as before; only this time uttering peculiar cries, as if to express disappointment. they saw at a glance that the tempting festoons were no longer within their reach! they were not going to leave the ground, however, without assuring themselves of this fact; and several of the largest approached boldly under the scaffolds, and commenced leaping up to try the height. after several attempts, springing each time as high as they were able, they appeared to grow discouraged; and no doubt would in time have imitated the fox with the grapes, and gone quietly away. but von bloom, indignant at being roused after such a fashion, from his pleasant rest, was determined to take some revenge upon his tormenters; so he whispered the word to the others, and a volley was delivered from behind the tree. the unexpected discharge caused a quick scattering of both hyenas and jackals, and the pattering of their numerous feet could be heard as they ran off. when the ground under the scaffold was examined, two of the larger of these ravenous quadrupeds, and one of the smaller, were found to have bitten the dust. swartboy had discharged his arrow along with the guns, and it was he that had slain the jackal, for the poisoned shaft was seen sticking between the animal's ribs. the guns were again loaded, the party took their stations as before; but, although they waited another half-hour, neither hyena nor jackal made their appearance. they had not gone far away, however, as their wild music testified; but the reason they did not return was, that they had now discovered the half carcass of the elephant that lay in the lake, and upon that they were making their supper. their plunging in the water could be distinctly heard from the camp, and during the whole night they quarrelled and growled, and laughed and yelled, as they gorged themselves on their ample prey. of course von bloom and his people did not sit up all night to listen to this medley of noises. as soon as they perceived that the brutes were not likely to come any more near the camp, they laid aside their weapons, returned to their respective sleeping-places, and were all soon buried in the sweet slumber that follows a day of healthy exercise. chapter twenty three. stalking the ourebi. next morning the hyenas and jackals had disappeared from the scene, and, to the surprise of all, not a particle of flesh was left upon the bones of the elephant. there lay the huge skeleton picked clean, the bones even polished white by the rough tongues of the hyenas. nay, still stranger to relate, two of the horses--these poor brutes had been long since left to themselves,--had been pulled down during the night, and their skeletons lay at a short distance from the camp as cleanly picked as that of the elephant! all this was evidence of the great number of ravenous creatures that must have their home in that quarter,--evidence, too, that game animals abounded, for where these are not numerous the beasts of prey cannot exist. indeed, from the quantity of tracks that were seen upon the shores of the vley, it was evident that animals of various kinds had drunk there during the night. there was the round solid hoof of the quagga, and his near congener the dauw; and there was the neat hoof-print of the gemsbok, and the larger track of the eland; and among these von bloom did not fail to notice the spoor of the dreaded lion. although they had not heard his roaring that night, they had no doubt but there were plenty of his kind in that part of the country. the presence of his favourite prey,--the quaggas, the gemsboks, and the elands,--were sure indications that the king of beasts was not far off. not much work was done that day. the heavy labour of curing the biltongue, that had occupied them the whole of the preceding day, and their disturbed rest, had rendered them all listless; and neither von bloom nor the others had any inclination for work. so they moved around the camp and did very little. swartboy took his elephant's feet from the oven, and cleaned them; and also let down the biltongue and arranged it so as to be better exposed to the sun. von bloom himself shot the three remaining horses, having driven them to a good distance from the camp. he did this to put an end to the suffering of the poor brutes,--for it was plain to every one that they could survive but a day or two longer; and to send a bullet through the heart of each was an act of mercy to them. out of all the live-stock of the field-cornet, the cow alone remained, and she was now tended with the greatest care. without the precious milk, which she yielded in such quantity, their diet would have been savage enough; and they fully appreciated the service she rendered them. each day she was driven out to the best pasture, and at night shut up in a safe kraal of wait-a-bit thorns, that had been built for her at a little distance from the tree. these thorns had been placed in such a manner that their shanks all radiated inward, while the bushy tops were turned out, forming a _chevaux-de-frise_, that scarce any animal would have attempted to get through. such a fence will turn even the lion, unless when he has been rendered fierce and reckless by provocation. of course a gap had been left for the cow to pass in and out, and this was closed by one immense bush, which served all the purpose of a gate. such was the kraal of "old graaf." besides the cow, the only living thing that remained in camp was truey's little pet, the fawn of the gazelle. but on that very day another pet was added, a dear little creature, not less beautiful than the springbok, and of still more diminutive proportions. that was the fawn of an "ourebi,"--one of the elegant little antelopes that are found in such variety over the plains and in the "bush" of southern africa. it was to hendrik they were indebted not only for this pet, but for a dinner of delicate venison, which they had that day eaten, and which all of them, except swartboy, preferred to elephant-beef. hendrik had procured the venison by a shot from his rifle, and in the following manner. about midday he went out--having fancied that upon a large grassy meadow near the camp he saw some animal. after walking about half a mile, and keeping among bushes, around the edge of the meadow, he got near enough to be sure that it _was_ an animal he had observed, for he now saw _two_ in the place he had marked. they were of a kind he had not met with before. they were very small creatures,--smaller even than springboks,--but, from their general form and appearance, hendrik knew they were either antelopes or deer; and, as hans had told him there were _no deer in southern africa_, he concluded they must be some species of antelope. they were a buck and doe,--this he knew because one of them only carried horns. the buck was _under two feet_ in height, of slender make, and pale tawny colour. he was white-bellied, with white arches above the eyes, and some long white hair under the throat. below his knees were yellowish tufts of long hair, and his horns--instead of being lyrate, like those of the springbok--rose nearly vertical to the height of four inches. they were black in colour, round-shaped, and slightly ringed. the doe was without horns, and was a much smaller animal than her mate. from all these marks hendrik thought the little antelopes were "ourebis;" and such they were. he continued to stalk in upon them, until he was as close as he could get. but he was still more than two hundred yards from them, and of course far from being within shooting distance with his small rifle. a thick _jong dora_ bush concealed him, but he dared not go farther else the game would have taken the alarm. he could perceive that they were shy creatures. every now and gain the buck would raise his graceful neck to its full stretch, utter a slight blearing call, and look suspiciously around him. from these symptoms hendrik drew the inference that it was shy game, and would not be easily approached. he lay for a moment, thinking what he should do. he was to leeward of the game, as he had purposely gone there; but after a while, to his chagrin, he saw that they were _feeding up the wind_, and of course widening the distance between them and himself. it occurred to hendrik that it might be their habit to browse up the wind, as springboks and some other species do. if so, he might as well give it up, or else make a long circuit and _head_ them. to do this would be a work of labour and of time, and a very uncertain stalk it would be in the end. after all his long tramping, and creeping, and crouching, the game would be like enough to scent him before they came within shot--for it is for this very reason that their instinct teaches them to browse _against_, and not _with_ the wind. as the plain was large, and the cover very distant, hendrik was discouraged and gave up the design he had half formed of trying to head them. he was about to rise to his feet, and return home, when it occurred to him that perhaps he might find a decoy available. he knew there were several species of antelopes, with whom curiosity was stronger than fear. he had often lured the springbok within reach. why would not these obey the same impulse? he determined to make trial. at the worst he could only fail, and he had no chance of getting a shot otherwise. without losing a moment he thrust his hand into his pocket. he should have found there a large red handkerchief which he had more than once used for a similar purpose. to his chagrin it was not there! he dived into both pockets of his jacket, then into his wide trousers, then under the breast of his waistcoat. no. the handkerchief was not to be found. alas! it had been left in the wagon! it was very annoying. what else could he make use of? take off his jacket and hold it up? it was not gay enough in colour. it would not do. should he raise his hat upon the end of his gun? that might be better, but still it would look too much like the human form, and hendrik knew that all animals feared that. a happy thought at length occurred to him. he had heard, that with the curious antelopes, strange forms or movements attract almost as much as glaring colours. he remembered a trick that was said to be practised with success by the hunters. it was easy enough, and consisted merely in the hunter standing upon his hands and head, and kicking his heels in the air! now hendrik happened to be one of those very boys who had often practised this little bit of gymnastics for amusement; and he could stand upon his head like an acrobat. without losing a moment he placed his rifle upon the ground, between his hands, and hoisting his feet into the air, commenced kicking them about, clinking them together, and crossing them in the most fantastic manner. he had placed himself so that his face was turned towards the animals, while he stood upon his head. of course he could not see them while in this position, as the grass was a foot high; but, at intervals, he permitted his feet to descend to the earth; and then, by looking between his legs, he could tell how the ruse was succeeding. it _did_ succeed. the buck, on first perceiving the strange object, uttered a sharp whistle, and darted off with the swiftness of a bird-- for the "ourebi" is one of the swiftest of african antelopes. the doe followed, though not so fast, and soon fell into the rear. the buck, perceiving this, suddenly halted--as if ashamed of his want of gallantry--wheeled round, and galloped back, until he was once more between the doe and the odd thing that had alarmed him. what could this odd thing be? he now seemed to inquire of himself. it was not a lion, nor a leopard, nor a hyena, nor yet a jackal. it was neither fox, nor fennec, nor earth-wolf, nor wild hound, nor any of his well-known enemies. it was not a bushman neither, for they are not double-headed as it appeared. what _could_ it be? it had kept its place--it had not pursued him. perhaps it was not at all dangerous. no doubt it was harmless enough. so reasoned the ourebi. his curiosity overcame his fear. he would go a little nearer. he would have a better view of the thing before he took to flight. no matter what it was, it could do no hurt at that distance; and as to _overtaking him_, pah! there wasn't a creature, biped or quadruped, in all africa that he could not fling dust in the face of. so he went a little nearer, and then a little nearer still, and continued to advance by successive runs, now this way and now that way, zigzagging over the plain, until he was within less than a hundred paces of the odd object that at first light had so terrified him. his companion, the doe, kept close after him; and seemed quite as curious as himself--her large shining eyes opened to their full extent, as she stopped to gaze at intervals. sometimes the two met each other in their course; and halted a moment, as though they held consultation in whispers; and asked each other if they had yet made out the character of the stranger. it was evident, however, that neither had done so--as they still continued to approach it with looks and gestures of inquiry and wonder. at length the odd object disappeared for a moment under the grass; and then reappeared,--but this time in an altered form. something about it glanced brightly under the sun, and this glancing quite fascinated the buck, so that he could not stir from the spot, but stood eyeing it steadily. fatal fascination! it was his last gaze. a bright flash shot up-- something struck him through the heart, and he saw the shining object no more! the doe bounded forward to where her mate had fallen, and stood bleating over him. she knew not the cause of his sudden death, but she saw that he was dead. the wound in his side--the stream of red blood--were under her eyes. she had never witnessed death in that form before, but she knew her lover was dead. his silence--his form stretched along the grass motionless and limber--his glassy eyes--all told her he had ceased to live. she would have fled, but she could not leave him--she could not bear to part even from his lifeless form. she would remain a while, and mourn over him. her widowhood was a short one. again flashed the priming,--again cracked the shining tube--and the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of her mate. the young hunter rose to his feet, and ran forward. he did not, according to usual custom, stop to load before approaching his quarry. the plain was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon it. what was his surprise on reaching the antelopes, to perceive that there was a _third_ one of the party still alive! yes, a little fawn, not taller than a rabbit, was bounding about through the grass, running around the prostrate body of its mother, and uttering its tiny bleat. hendrik was surprised, because he had not observed this creature before; but, indeed, he had not seen much of the antelopes until the moment of taking aim, and the grass had concealed the tiny young one. hunter as hendrik was, he could not help feeling strongly as he regarded the _tableau_ before him. but he felt that he had not wantonly destroyed these creatures for mere amusement, and that satisfied his conscience. the little fawn would make a famous pet for jan, who had often wished for one, to be equal with his sister. it could be fed upon the cow's milk, and, though it had lost both father and mother, hendrik resolved that it should be carefully brought up. he had no difficulty in capturing it, as it refused to leave the spot where its mother lay, and hendrik soon held the gentle creature in his arms. he then tied the buck and doe together; and, having fastened a strong cord round the horns of the latter, he set off dragging the two antelopes behind him. as these lay upon the ground, heads foremost, they were drawn _with the grain of the hair_, which made it much easier; and as there was nothing but grass sward to be passed over, the young hunter succeeded in taking the whole of his game to camp without any great difficulty. the joy of all was great, at seeing such a fine lot of venison, but jan's rejoicing was greater than all; and he no longer envied truey the possession of her little gazelle. chapter twenty four. little jan's adventure. it would have been better that jan had never seen the little "ourebi,"-- better both for jan and the antelope, for that night the innocent creature was the cause of a terrible panic in the camp. they had all gone to sleep as on the previous night,--von bloom and the four children in the wagon, while the bushman and totty slept upon the grass. the latter lay under the wagon; but swartboy had kindled a large fire at a little distance from it, and beside this had stretched himself, rolled up in his sheep-skin kaross. they had all gone to sleep without being disturbed by the hyenas. this was easily accounted for. the three horses that had been shot that day occupied the attention of these gentry, for their hideous voices could be heard off in the direction where the carcasses lay. having enough to give them a supper, they found no occasion to risk themselves in the neighbourhood of the camp, where they had experienced such a hostile reception on the previous night. so reasoned von bloom, as he turned over and fell asleep. he did not reason correctly, however. it was true that the hyenas were just then making a meal upon the horses; but it was a mistake to suppose that that would satisfy these ravenous brutes, who never seem to have enough. long before morning, had von bloom been awake he would have heard the maniac laugh closer to the camp, and might have seen the green eyes of the hyena glancing under the expiring blaze of swartboy's camp-fire. indeed, he had heard the beasts once that he awoke; but, knowing that the biltongue had been this night placed out of their reach, and thinking that there was nothing to which they could do any harm, he gave no heed to their noisy demonstrations, and went to sleep again. he was awakened, however, by a shrill squeak, as of some animal in the agonies of death; and then there was a second squeak, that seemed to be suddenly interrupted by the stifling of the creature's utterance! in these cries von bloom, as well as the others--who were now also awake--recognised the bleat of the ourebi, for they had heard it several times during the afternoon. "the hyenas are killing it!" thought they. but they had not time to say so, before another and far different cry reached their ears, and caused them all to start as if a bomb-shell had burst under the wagon. that cry was the voice of jan, and sounded in the same direction whence came the scream of the stifled antelope! "o heaven! what could it mean?" the child's voice first reached them in a sudden screech--then there was a confused noise resembling a scuffle--and jan was again heard crying aloud for help, while at the same time his voice was interrupted, and each call appeared to come from a greater distance! _something or somebody was carrying him off_! this idea occurred to von bloom, hans, and hendrik, at the same instant. of course it filled them with consternation; and, as they were scarce yet awake, they knew not what to do. the cries of jan, however, soon brought them to their senses; and to run towards the direction whence these came was the first thought of all. to grope for their guns would waste time, and all three leaped out of the wagon without them. totty was upon her feet and jabbering, but she knew no more than they what had happened. they did not stop long to question her. the voice of swartboy, uttered in loud barks and clicks, summoned them elsewhere; and they now beheld a red flaming brand rushing through the darkness, which no doubt was carried in the hands of that worthy. they started off in the direction of the blazing torch, and ran as fast as they could. they still heard the bushman's voice, and to their dismay _beyond it_ the screams of little jan! of course they could not tell what was causing all this. they only pressed on with fearful apprehensions. when they had got within some fifty paces of the torch, they perceived it suddenly descend, then raised again, and again brought down, in a rapid and violent manner! they could hear the voice of the bushman barking and clicking louder than ever, as though he was engaged in chastising some creature. but jan's voice they no longer heard--he was screaming no more--was he dead? with terrible forebodings they rushed on. when they arrived upon the spot, a singular picture presented itself to their eyes. jan lay upon the ground, close in by the roots of some bushes which he was holding tightly in his grasp. from one of his wrists extended a stout thong, or _rheim_, which passed through among the bushes to the distance of several feet; and, fast to its other end, was the ourebi fawn, dead, and terribly mangled! over the spot stood swartboy with his burning tree, which blazed all the brighter that he had just been using it over the back of a ravenous hyena. the latter was not in sight. it had long since skulked off, but no one thought of pursuit, as all were too anxious about jan. no time was lost in lifting the child to his feet. the eyes of all ran eagerly over him to see where he was wounded; and an exclamation of joy soon broke forth when they saw that, except the scratches of the thorns, and the deep track of a cord upon his wrist, nothing in the shape of a wound could be discovered upon his diminutive body. he had now come to himself, and assured them all that he was not hurt a bit. hurrah! jan was safe! it now fell to jan's lot to explain all this mysterious business. he had been lying in the wagon along with the rest, but not like them asleep. no. he could not sleep a wink for thinking on his new pet, which, for want of room in the wagon, had been left below tied to one of the wheels. jan had taken it into his head that he would like to have another look at the ourebi before going to sleep. so, without saying a word to any one, he crept out of the cap-tent, and descended to where the antelope was tied. he unloosed it gently, and then led it forward to the light of the fire, where he sat down to admire the creature. after gazing upon it for some time with delight, he thought that swartboy could not do otherwise than share his feelings; and without more ado, he shook the bushman awake. the latter had no great stomach for being roused out of sleep to look at an animal, hundreds of which he had eaten in his time. but jan and swartboy were sworn friends, and the bushman was not angry. he, therefore, indulged his young master in the fancy he had taken; and the two sat for a while conversing about the pet. at length swartboy proposed sleep. jan would agree to this only upon the terms that swartboy would allow him to sleep alongside of him. he would bring his blanket from the wagon, and would not trouble swartboy by requiring part of the latter's kaross. swartboy objected at first; but jan urged that he had felt cold in the wagon, and that was partly why he had come down to the fire. all this was sheer cunning in the little imp. but swartboy could not refuse him anything, and at length consented. he could see no harm in it, as there were no signs of rain. jan then returned to the wagon, climbed noiselessly up, drew out his own blankets, and brought them to the fire. he then wrapped himself up, and lay down alongside of swartboy, with the ourebi standing near, and in such a situation that he could still have his eyes upon it, even when lying. to secure it from wandering, he had fastened a strong rheim around its neck, the other end of which he had looped tightly upon his own wrist. he lay for some time contemplating his beautiful pet. but sleep at length overcame him, and the image of the ourebi melted before his eyes. beyond this jan could tell little of what happened to him. he was awakened by a sudden jerking at his wrist, and hearing the antelope scream. but he had not quite opened his eyes, before he felt himself dragged violently over the ground. he thought at first it was swartboy playing some trick upon him; but as he passed the fire, he saw by its light that it was a huge black animal that had seized the ourebi, and was dragging both him and it along. of course he then began to scream for help, and caught at everything he could to keep himself from being carried away. but he could lay hold of nothing, until he found himself among thick bushes, and these he seized and held with all his might. he could not have held out long against the strength of the hyena; but it was just at that moment that swartboy came up with his firebrand, and beat off the ravisher with a shower of blows. when they got back to the light of the fire they found that jan was all right. but the poor ourebi--it had been sadly mangled, and was now of no more value than a dead rat. chapter twenty five. a chapter upon hyenas. hyenas are wolves--only wolves of a particular kind. they have the same general habits as wolves, and much of their look. they have heavier heads, broader thicker muzzles, shorter and stouter necks, and altogether a coarser and shaggier coat. one of the most characteristic marks of the hyena is the inequality in the development of its limbs. the hind-legs appear weaker and shorter than the fore ones, so that the rump is far lower than the shoulders; and the line of the back, instead of being horizontal, as in most animals, droops obliquely towards the tail. the short thick neck and strong jaws are characteristics; the former so much so, that in the days of fabulous natural history the hyena was said to be without cervical vertebrae. its thick neck and powerful jaw-bones have their uses. it is by virtue of these that the hyena can make a meal upon bones, which would be of no use whatever to the ordinary wolf or other beast of prey. it can break almost the largest and strongest joints, and not only extract their marrow, but crush the bones themselves, and swallow them as food. here, again, we have proof of nature's adaptation. it is just where these large bones are found in greatest plenty that we find the hyena. nature suffers nothing to be wasted. hyenas are the wolves of africa--that is, they are in africa the representatives of the large wolf, which does not exist there. it is true the jackal is a wolf in every respect, but only a small one; and there is no true wolf in africa of the large kind, such as the gaunt robber of the pyrenees, or his twin brother of america. but the hyena is the _wolf of africa_. and of all wolves he is the ugliest and most brute-like. there is not a graceful or beautiful bit about him. in fact, i was about to pronounce him the ugliest animal in creation, when the baboons came into my mind. they of course exhibit the _ne plus ultra_ of ugliness; and, indeed, the hyenas are not at all unlike them in general aspect, as well as in some of their habits. some early writers even classed them together. now we have been speaking of the hyena, as if there was but one species. for a long time but one was known--the common or "striped hyena" (_hyena vulgaris_), and it was about this one that so many false stories have been told. perhaps no other animal has held so conspicuous a place in the world of mystery and horror. neither vampire nor dragon have surpassed him. our ancestors believed that he could fascinate any one with his glance, lure them after him, and then devour them--that he changed his sex every year--that he could transform himself into a comely youth, and thus beguile young maidens off into the woods to be eaten up--that he could imitate the human voice perfectly--that it was his custom to conceal himself near a house, listen until the name of one of the family should be mentioned, then call out as if for assistance, pronouncing the name he had heard, and imitating the cries of one in distress. this would bring out the person called, who of course on reaching the spot would find only a fierce hyena ready to devour him! strange as it may seem, all these absurd stories were once very generally believed, and, strange as it may seem in me to say, not one of them but has _some_ foundation. exaggerated as they are, they all owe their origin to natural facts. at present i shall refer to only two of these. there is a peculiarity about the glance of the hyena that has given birth to the notion of his possessing the power to "charm" or fascinate, although i never heard of his luring any one to destruction by it; there is a peculiarity about the animal's voice that might well gain him credit for imitating the human voice, for the simple reason that the former bears a very near resemblance to the latter. i do not say that the voice of the hyena is like the ordinary human voice, but there are some voices it does exactly resemble. i am acquainted with several people who have _hyena voices_. in fact, one of the closest imitations of a human laugh is that of the "spotted hyena." no one can hear it, hideous as it is, without being amused at its close approximation to the utterance of a human being. there is a dash of the maniac in its tones, and it reminds me of the sharp metallic ring which i have noticed in the voices of negroes. i have already compared it to what i should fancy would be the laugh of a _maniac negro_. the striped hyena, although the best known, is in my opinion the least interesting of his kind. he is more widely distributed than any of his congeners. found in most parts of africa, he is also an asiatic animal, is common enough throughout all the southern countries of asia, and is even found as far north as the caucasus and the altai. he is the only species that exists in asia. all the others are natives of africa, which is the true home of the hyena. naturalists admit but _three_ species of hyena. i have not the slightest doubt that there are twice that number as distinct from each other as these three are. five, at least, i know, without reckoning as hyenas either the "wild hound" of the cape, or the little burrowing hyena (_proteles_)--both of which we shall no doubt meet with in the course of our hunting adventures. first, then, we have the "striped" hyena already mentioned. he is usually of an ashy grey colour with a slight yellowish tinge, and a set of irregular _striae_, or stripes of black or dark brown. these are placed transversely to the length of his body, or rather obliquely, following nearly the direction of the ribs. they are not equally well defined or conspicuous in different individuals of the species. the hair--like that of all hyenas--is long, harsh, and shaggy, but longer over the neck, shoulders, and back, where it forms a mane. this becomes erect when the animal is excited. the same may be observed among dogs. the common hyena is far from being either strong or brave, when compared with the others of his kind. he is, in fact, the weakest and least ferocious of the family. he is sufficiently voracious, but lives chiefly on carrion, and will not dare attack living creatures of half his own strength. he preys only on the smallest quadrupeds, and with all his voracity he is an arrant poltroon. a child of ten years will easily put him to flight. a second species is the hyena which so much annoyed the celebrated bruce while travelling in abyssinia, and may be appropriately named "bruce's hyena." this is also a _striped_ hyena, and nearly all naturalists have set him down as of the same species with the _hyena vulgaris_. excepting the "stripes," there is no resemblance whatever between the two species; and even these are differently arranged, while the ground colour also differs. bruce's hyena is nearly twice the size of the common kind--with twice his strength, courage, and ferocity. the former will attack not only large quadrupeds, but man himself,--will enter houses by night, even villages, and carry off domestic animals and children. incredible as these statements may appear, about their truth there can be no doubt; such occurrences are by no means rare. this hyena has the reputation of entering graveyards, and disinterring the dead bodies to feed upon them. some naturalists have denied this. for what reason? it is well-known that in many parts of africa, the dead are not interred, but thrown out on the plains. it is equally well-known that the hyenas devour the bodies so exposed. it is known, too, that the hyena is a "terrier"--a burrowing animal. what is there strange or improbable in supposing that it burrows to get at the bodies, its natural food? the wolf does so, the jackal, the coyote,--ay, even the dog! i have seen all of them at it on the battle-field. why not the hyena? a third species is very distinct from either of the two described--the "spotted hyena" (_hyena crocuta_). this is also sometimes called the "laughing" hyena, from the peculiarity we have had occasion to speak of. this species, in general colour, is not unlike the common kind, except that, instead of stripes, his sides are covered with spots. he is larger than the _hyena vulgaris_, and in character resembles bruce's, or the abyssinian hyena. he is a native of the southern half of africa, where he is known among the dutch colonists as the "tiger-wolf;" while the common hyena is by them simply called "wolf." a fourth species is the "brown hyena" (_hyena villosa_). the name "brown" hyena is not a good one, as brown colour is by no means a characteristic of this animal. _hyena villosa_, or "hairy hyena," is better, as the long, straight hair falling down his sides gives him a peculiar aspect, and at once distinguishes him from any of the others. he is equally as large and fierce as any, being of the size of a saint bernard mastiff, but it is difficult to imagine how any one could mistake him for either a striped or spotted hyena. his colour is dark brown, or nearly black above, and dirty grey beneath. in fact, in general colour and the arrangement of his hair, he is not unlike a badger or wolverine. and yet many naturalists describe this as being of the same species as the common hyena--the learned de blainville among the rest. the most ignorant boor of south africa--for he is a south african animal--knows better than this. their very appellation of "straand-wolf" points out his different habits and haunts--for he is a seashore animal, and not even found in such places as are the favourite resorts of the common hyena. there is still another "brown hyena," which differs altogether from this one, and is an inhabitant of the great desert. he is shorter-haired and of uniform brown colour, but like the rest in habits and general character. no doubt, when the central parts of africa have been thoroughly explored, several species of hyena will be added to the list of those already known. the habits of the hyenas are not unlike those of the larger wolves. they dwell in caves, of clefts of rocks. some of them use the burrows of other animals for their lair, which they can enlarge for themselves-- as they are provided with burrowing claws. they are not tree-climbers, as their claws are not sufficiently retractile for that. it is in their teeth their main dependence lies, and in the great strength of their jaws. hyenas are solitary animals, though often troops of them are seen together, attracted by the common prey. a dozen or more will meet over a carcass, but each goes his own way on leaving it. they are extremely voracious; will eat up almost anything--even scraps of leather or old shoes! bones they break and swallow as though these were pieces of tender flesh. they are bold, particularly with the poor natives, who do not hunt them with a view to extermination. they enter the miserable kraals of the natives, and often carry off their children. it is positively true that hundreds of children have been destroyed by hyenas in southern africa! it is difficult for you to comprehend why this is permitted--why there is not a war of extermination carried on against the hyenas, until these brutes are driven out of the land. you cannot comprehend such a state of things, because you do not take into account the difference between savage and civilised existence. you will suppose that human life in africa is held of far less value than it is in england; but if you thoroughly understood political science, you would discover that many a law of civilised life calls for its victims in far greater numbers than do the hyenas. the empty review, the idle court fete, the reception of an emperor, all require, as their natural sequence, the sacrifice of many lives! chapter twenty six. a house among the tree-tops. von bloom now reflected that the hyenas were likely to prove a great pest to him. no meat, nor anything, would be safe from them--even his very children would be in danger, if left alone in the camp; and no doubt he would often be compelled to leave them, as he would require the older ones upon his hunting excursions. there were other animals to be dreaded still more than the hyenas. even during that night they had heard the roaring of lions down by the vley; and when it was morning, the spoor showed that several of these animals had drunk at the water. how could he leave little truey--his dear little truey--or jan, who was not a bit bigger--how could he leave them in an open camp while such monsters were roving about? he could not think of doing so. he reflected what course he should pursue. at first he thought of putting up a house. that would necessarily be a work of time. there was no good building material convenient. a stone house would cost a great deal of labour--as the stones would have to be carried nearly a mile, and in their hands too. that would never do, as von bloom might only remain a short while at that place. he might not find many elephants there, and of course would be under the necessity of going elsewhere. why not build a log-house? you will say. that would not be so much of a job, as part of the country was well wooded, and they had an axe. true, part of the country was wooded, but in a particular manner. with the exception of the nwana-trees, that stood at long distances apart-- and regularly, as if they had been planted--there was nothing that deserved the name of timber. all the rest was mere "bush,"--a thorny jungle of mimosas, euphorbias, arborescent aloes, strelitzias, and the horrid zamia plants, beautiful enough to the eye, but of no utility whatever in the building of a house. the nwanas, of course, were too large for house-logs. to have felled one of them would have been a task equal almost to the building of a house; and to have made planks of them would have required a steam saw-mill. a log-house was not to be thought of either. now a frail structure of poles and thatch would not have given sufficient security. an angry rhinoceros, or elephant, would level such a house to the ground in a few moments. suppose, too, that there were _man-eaters_ in the neighbourhood. swartboy believed that there were, and that that region was notorious for them. as it was not far from swartboy's native country, von bloom, who had reason to believe what the bushman told him, was inclined to credit this. what protection would a frail house afford against the _man-eater_? not much, indeed. von bloom was puzzled and perplexed. he could not commence his hunting excursions until this question was settled. some place must be prepared, where the children would be safe during his absence. while revolving the subject in his mind, he happened to cast his eyes upward among the branches of the nwana-tree. all at once his attention became fixed upon those huge limbs, for they had awakened within him a strange memory. he remembered having heard that, in some parts of the country, and perhaps not very far from where he then was, the natives _live in trees_. that sometimes a whole tribe, of fifty or more, make their home in a single tree; and do so to secure themselves against savage beasts, and sometimes equally savage men. that they build their houses upon platforms, which they erect upon the horizontal branches; and that they ascend by means of ladders, which are drawn up after them at night when they go to rest. all this von bloom had heard, and all of it is positively true. of course the reflection occurred to him, why could _he_ not do the same? why could he not build a house in the gigantic nwana? that would give him all the security he desired. there they could all sleep with perfect confidence of safety. there, on going out to hunt, he could leave the children, with the certainty of finding them on his return. an admirable idea!--how about its practicability? he began to consider this. if he only had planks to make a staging or platform, the rest would be easy. any slight roof would be sufficient up there. the leaves almost formed a roof. but the flooring--this was the difficulty. where were planks to be got? nowhere, in that neighbourhood. his eye, at that moment, chanced to fall upon the wagon. ha! there were planks there. but to break up his beautiful wagon? no--no--no! such a thing was not to be thought of. but stay! there was no need to _break_ it up--no need to knock out a single nail. it would serve every purpose without breaking a splinter off it. the fine vehicle was made to take to pieces, and put up again at will. he could take it to pieces. the broad bottom alone should remain whole. that of itself would be the platform. hurrah! the field-cornet, excited with the development of this fine plan, now communicated it to the others. all agreed that it was just the thing; and as the day was before them, they made no more ado, but set about carrying out the design. a ladder thirty feet long had first to be constructed. this occupied a good while; but at length a stout rough article was knocked up, which served the purpose admirably. it gave them access to the lowermost limb; and from this they could construct steps to all the others. von bloom ascended, and after careful examination chose the site of the platform. this was to rest upon two strong horizontal limbs of equal height, and diverging very gradually from each other. the quantity of thick branches in the great tree afforded him a choice. the wagon was now taken to pieces--a work of only a few minutes--and the first thing hauled up was the bottom. this was no slight performance, and required all the strength of the camp. strong "rheims" were attached to one end, and these were passed over a limb of the tree, still higher up than those on which the staging was to rest. one stood above to guide the huge piece of plank-work, while all the rest exerted their strength upon the ropes below. even little jan pulled with all his might--though a single pound avoirdupois weight would have been about the measure of _his_ strength. the piece was hoisted up, until it rested beautifully upon the supporting limbs; and then a cheer rose from below, and was answered by swartboy among the branches. the heaviest part of the work was over. the boxing of the wagon was passed up, piece by piece, and set in its place just as before. some branches were lopped off to make room for the cap-tent, and then it was also hauled up, and mounted. by the time the sun set, everything was in its place; and the aerial house was ready for sleeping in. in fact, that very night they slept in it, or, as hans jocularly termed it, they all went to "roost." but they did not consider their new habitation quite complete as yet. next day they continued to labour upon it. by means of long poles they extended their platform from the wagon quite up to the trunk of the tree, so as to give them a broad terrace to move about upon. the poles were fast wattled together by rods of the beautiful weeping-willow (_salix babylonica_), which is a native of these parts, and several trees of which grew by the side of the vley. upon the top of all, they laid a thick coating of clay, obtained from the edge of the lake; so that, if need be, they could actually kindle a fire, and took their suppers in the tree. to make a still finer flooring, they procured a quantity of the material of which the ant-hills are composed; which, being of a glutinous nature, makes a mortar almost as binding as roman cement. after the main building had been finished off, swartboy erected a platform for himself, and one for totty in another part of the ample nwana. above each of these platforms he had constructed a roof or screen, to shelter their occupants from rain or dew. there was something odd in the appearance of these two screens, each of which was about the size of an ordinary umbrella. their oddity consisted in the fact that they were _ears of the elephant_! chapter twenty seven. the battle of the wild peacocks. there was no longer anything to hinder the field-cornet from commencing the real business of his new life, viz. the hunting of the elephant. he resolved, therefore, to begin at once; for until he should succeed in "bagging" a few of these giant animals, he was not easy in his mind. he might not be able to kill a single one; and then what would become of all his grand hopes and calculations? they would end in disappointment, and he should find himself in as bad a condition as ever. indeed worse: for to fail in any undertaking is not only to lose time, but energy of mind. success begets genius, courage, and self-reliance--all of which contribute to new successes; while failure intimidates and leads to despair. in a psychological point of view it is a dangerous thing to fail in any undertaking; and, therefore, before undertaking anything, one should be well assured of its being possible and practicable. now von bloom was not sure that the great design he had formed was practicable. but in this case, he had no choice. no other means of livelihood was open to him just then; and he had resolved to make trial of this. he had faith in his calculations, and he had also good reason to hope he would succeed; but the thing was yet untried. no wonder he was in haste to begin the business--in haste to know what were his chances of success. by early day, therefore, he was up and out. hendrik and swartboy only accompanied him, for he could not yet bring himself to leave the children with no other protection than totty--almost as much a child as themselves. hans, therefore, remained by the camp. at first the hunters followed the little rivulet that ran from the spring and vley. they did so, because in this direction there was more "bush;" and they knew that elephants would be more likely to be found in woods than in open places. indeed, it was only near the banks of the stream that any great quantity of wood was to be seen. a broad belt of jungle extended upon each side of it. after that, there were straggling groves and clumps; and then came the open plains, almost treeless, though covered with a rich carpet of grass for some distance farther. to this succeeded the wild karoo, stretching eastward and westward beyond the reach of vision. along the north, as already mentioned, trended the line of "bluffs;" and beyond these there was nothing but the parched and waterless desert. to the south there lay the only thing that could be called "woods;" and although such a low jungle could lay no claim to the title of "forest," it was, nevertheless, a likely enough haunt for elephants. the trees consisted chiefly of mimosas--of several species; upon the leaves, roots, and tender shoots of which the great ruminant loves to browse. there were some "cameel-doorn" trees, with their shady umbrella-like tops. but above all rose the massive heads of the nwanas, giving a peculiar character to the landscape. the hunters noticed, as they went on, that the channel of the rivulet became wider and larger and that at times--no doubt after great rains--a large quantity of water must have run in its bed, forming a considerable river. but as the channel grew larger, the reverse was the case with the quantity of running water. the farther down they proceeded this became less and less; until, at the distance of a mile from camp, the current ceased altogether. for half-a-mile farther on they found water in stagnant pools, but none running. the wide, dry channel, however, continued on as before; and the "bush" extended on both sides without interruption, so thick that they could only make way by keeping in the channel itself. as they walked along, several kinds of small game were started. hendrik would gladly have taken a shot at some of these, but his father would not permit him to fire just then. it might frighten away the great "game" they were in search of, and which they might fall in with at any moment. on their return hendrik might do his best; and then the field-cornet intended to assist him in procuring an antelope, as there was no fresh venison in the camp. this, however, was a consideration of secondary importance, and the first thing to be done was to try and get a pair of tusks. there was no objection to swartboy using his bow, as that silent weapon would cause no alarm. swartboy had been taken along to carry the axe and other implements, as well as to assist in the hunt. of course he had brought his bow and quiver with him; and he was constantly on the watch for something at which to let fly on of his little poisoned arrows. he found a mark at length worthy of his attention. on crossing the plain to avoid a large bend in the channel, they came upon a glade or opening of considerable size, and in the middle of this glade a huge bird appeared standing erect. "an ostrich!" exclaimed hendrik. "no," replied swartboy; "um ar da pauw." "yes," said von bloom, confirming swartboy's statement, "it is the pauw." now a "pauw" in the dutch language is a "peacock." but there are no peacocks in africa. the peacock in its wild state inhabits only southern asia and the islands of the indian archipelago. the bird they saw, then, could not be a peacock. neither was it one. and yet it bore some resemblance to a peacock, with its long heavy tail and wings speckled and ocellated in a very striking manner, and something like the "marbled" feathers that adorn the peacock's back. it had none of the brilliant colours, however, of that proudest of birds, though it was quite as stately, and much larger and taller. in fact, its great height and erect attitude was why hendrik at first glance had taken it for an ostrich. it was neither peacock nor ostrich, but belonging to a different genus from either--to the genus _otis_ or bustard. it was the great bustard of south africa--the _otis kori_--called "pauw" by the dutch colonists, on account of its ocellated plumage and other points of resemblance to the indian peacock. now swartboy, as well as von bloom, knew that the pauw was one of the most delicious of fowls for the table. but they knew at the same time that it was one of the shyest of birds,--so shy that it is very difficult to get even a long shot at one. how, then, was it to be approached within range of the bushman's arrow? that was the point to be considered. where it stood, it was full two hundred yards from them; and had it perceived them, it would soon have widened that distance, by running off two hundred more. i say _running_ off, for birds of the bustard family rarely take to wing, but use their long legs to escape from an enemy. on this account they are often hunted by dogs, and caught after a severe chase. although but poor flyers, they are splendid runners,--swift almost as the ostrich itself. the pauw, however, had not observed the hunters as yet. they had caught a glimpse of it, before appearing out of the bushes, and had halted as soon as they saw it. how was swartboy to approach it? it was two hundred yards from any cover, and the ground was as clean as a new-raked meadow. true, the plain was not a large one. indeed, swartboy was rather surprised to see a pauw upon so small a one, for these birds frequent only the wide open karoos, where they can sight their enemy at a great distance. the glade was not large, but, after watching the bustard for some minutes, the hunters saw that it was resolved to keep near the centre, and showed no disposition to feed in the direction of the thicket on either side. any one but a bushman would have despaired of getting a shot at this kori; but swartboy did not despair. begging the others to remain quiet, he crept forward to the edge of the jungle, and placed himself behind a thick leafy bush. he then commenced uttering a call, exactly similar to that made by the male of the kori when challenging an adversary to combat. like the grouse, the bustard is polygamous, and of course terribly jealous and pugnacious, at certain seasons of the year. swartboy knew that it was just then the "fighting season" among the pauws, and hoped by imitating their challenge to draw the bird--a cock he saw it was-- within reach of his arrow. as soon as the kori heard the call, he raised himself to his full height, spread his immense tail, dropped his wings until the primary feathers trailed along the grass, and replied to the challenge. but what now astonished swartboy was, that instead of one answer to his call, he fancied he heard _two_, simultaneously uttered! it proved to be no fancy, for before he could repeat the decoy the bird again gave out its note of defiance, and was answered by a similar call from another quarter. swartboy looked in the direction whence came the latter; and there, sure enough, was a second kori, that seemed to have dropped from the region of the clouds, or, more likely, had run out from the shelter of the bushes. at all events, it was a good way towards the centre of the plain, before the hunter had observed it. the two were now in full view of each other; and by their movements any one might see that a combat was certain to come off. sure of this, swartboy did not call again; but remained silent behind his bush. after a good while spent in strutting, and wheeling round and round, and putting themselves in the most threatening attitudes, and uttering the most insulting expressions, the two koris became sufficiently provoked to begin the battle. they "clinched" in gallant style, using all three weapons,--wings, beak, and feet. now they struck each other with their wings, now pecked with their bills; and at intervals, when a good opportunity offered, gave each other a smart kick--which, with their long muscular legs, they were enabled to deliver with considerable force. swartboy knew that when they were well into the fight, he might stalk in upon them unobserved; so he waited patiently, till the proper moment should arrive. in a few seconds it became evident, he would not have to move from his ambush; for the birds were fighting towards him. he adjusted his arrow to the string, and waited. in five minutes the birds were fighting within thirty yards of the spot where the bushman lay. the twang of a bowstring might have been heard by one of the koris, had he been listening. the other could not possibly have heard it; for before the sound could have reached him, a poisoned arrow was sticking through his ears. the barb had passed through, and the shaft remained in his head, piercing it crosswise! of course the bird dropped dead upon the grass, less astonished than his antagonist. the latter at first imagined _he_ had done it, and began to strut very triumphantly around his fallen foe. but his eye now fell upon the arrow sticking through the head of the latter. he knew nothing about that. _he_ had not done _that_! what the deuce-- perhaps if he had been allowed another moment's reflection, he would have taken to his heels; but before he could make up his mind about the matter, there was another "twang" of the bowstring, another arrow whistled through the air, and another kori lay stretched upon the grass. swartboy now rushed forward, and took possession of the game; which proved to be a pair of young cocks, in prime condition for roasting. having hung the birds over a high branch, so as to secure them from jackals and hyenas, the hunters continued on; and shortly after, having re-entered the channel of the stream, continued to follow it downward. chapter twenty eight. upon the "spoor." they had not gone above an hundred yards farther, when they came to one of the pools, already spoken of. it was a tolerably large one; and the mud around its edges bore the hoof-prints of numerous animals. this the hunters saw from a distance, but on reaching the spot, swartboy a little in the advance, turned suddenly round, and, with rolling orbs and quivering lips, clicked out the words,-- "mein baas! mein baas! da klow! spoor ob da groot olifant!" there was no danger of mistaking the spoor of the elephant for that of any other creature. there, sure enough, were the great round tracks-- full twenty-four inches in length, and nearly as wide--deeply imprinted in the mud by the enormous weight of the animal's body. each formed an immense hole, large enough to have set a gatepost in. the hunters contemplated the spoor with emotions of pleasure--the more so that the tracks had been recently made. this was evident. the displaced mud had not yet crusted, but looked damp and fresh. it had been stirred within the hour. only one elephant had visited the pool that night. there were many old tracks, but only one fresh spoor,--and that of an old and very large bull. of course the tracks told this much. to make a spoor twenty-four inches long, requires the animal to be a very large one; and to be very large, he should be a bull, and an old one too. well, the older and larger the better, provided his tusks have not been broken by some accident. when that happens they are never recovered again. the elephant _does_ cast his tusks, but only in the juvenile state, when they are not bigger than lobster's claws; and the pair that succeeds these is permanent, and has to last him for life--perhaps _for centuries_--for no one can tell how long the mighty elephant roams over this sublunary planet. when the tusks get broken--a not uncommon thing--he must remain toothless or "tuskless" for the rest of his life. although the elephant may consider the loss of his huge tusks a great calamity, were he only a little wiser, he would break them off against the first tree. it would, in all probability, be the means of prolonging his life; for the hunter would not then consider him worth the ammunition it usually takes to kill him. after a short consultation among the hunters, swartboy started off upon the spoor, followed by von bloom and hendrik. it led straight out from the channel, and across the jungle. usually the bushes mark the course of an elephant, where these are of the sort he feeds upon. in this case he had not fed; but the bushman, who could follow spoor with a hound, had no difficulty in keeping on the track, as fast as the three were able to travel. they emerged into open glades; and, after passing through several of these, came upon a large ant-hill that stood in the middle of one of the openings. the elephant had passed close to the ant-hill--he had stopped there a while--stay, he must have lain down! von bloom did not know that elephants were in the habit of lying down. he had always heard it said that they slept standing. swartboy knew better than that. he said that they sometimes slept standing, but oftener lay down, especially in districts where they were not much hunted. swartboy considered it a good sign that this one had lain down. he reasoned from it that the elephants had not been disturbed in that neighbourhood, and would be the more easily approached and killed. they would be less likely to make off from that part of the country, until they--the hunters--had had a "good pull" out of them. this last consideration was one of great importance. in a district where elephants have been much hunted, and have learnt what the crack of a gun signifies, a single day's chase will often set them travelling; and they will not bring up again, until they have gone far beyond the reach of the hunters. not only the particular individuals that have been chased act in this way; but all the others,--as though warned by their companions,--until not an elephant remains in the district. this migratory habit is one of the chief difficulties which the elephant-hunter must needs encounter; and, when it occurs, he has no other resource but to change _his_ "sphere of action." on the other hand, where elephants have remained for a long time undisturbed, the report of a gun does not terrify them; and they will bear a good deal of hunting before "showing their heels" and leaving the place. swartboy, therefore, rejoiced on perceiving that the old bull had lain down. the bushman drew a world of conclusions from that circumstance. that the elephant had been lying was clear enough. the abrasion upon the stiff mud of the ant-heap showed where his back had rested,--the mark of his body was visible in the dust, and a groove-like furrow in the turf had been made by his huge tusk. a huge one it must have been, as the impression of it testified to the keen eyes of the bushman. swartboy stated some curious facts about the great quadruped,--at least, what he alleged to be facts. they were,--that the elephant never attempts to lie down without having something to lean his shoulders against,--a rock, an ant-hill, or a tree; that he does this to prevent himself from rolling over on his back,--that when he does by accident get into that position he has great difficulty in rising again, and is almost as helpless as a turtle; and, lastly, that he often sleeps standing beside a tree with the whole weight of his body leaning against the trunk! swartboy did not think that he leans against the trunk when first taking up his position; but that he seeks the tree for the shade it affords, and as sleep overcomes him he inclines towards it, finding that it steadies and rests him! the bushman stated, moreover, that some elephants have their favourite trees, to which they return again and again to take a nap during the hot midday hours,--for that is their time of repose. at night they do not sleep. on the contrary, the hours of night are spent in ranging about, on journeys to the distant watering-places, and in feeding; though in remote and quiet districts they also feed by day--so that it is probable that most of their nocturnal activity is the result of their dread of their watchful enemy, man. swartboy communicated these facts, as the hunters all together followed upon the spoor. the traces of the elephant were now of a different character, from what they had been before arriving at the ant-hill. he had been browsing as he went. his nap had brought a return of appetite; and the wait-a-bit thorns showed the marks of his prehensile trunk. here and there branches were broken off, stripped clean of their leaves, and the ligneous parts left upon the ground. in several places whole trees were torn up by their roots, and those, too, of considerable size. this the elephant sometimes does to get at their foliage, which upon such trees grows beyond the reach of his proboscis. by prostrating them of course he gets their whole frondage within easy distance of his elastic nose, and can strip it off at pleasure. at times, however, he tears up a tree to make a meal of its roots--as there are several species with sweet juicy roots, of which the elephant is extremely fond. these he drags out of the ground with his trunk, having first loosened them with his tusks, used as crowbars. at times he fails to effect his purpose; and it is only when the ground is loose or wet, as after great rains, that he can uproot the larger kinds of mimosas. sometimes he is capricious; and, after drawing a tree from the ground, he carries it many yards along with him, flings it to the ground, root upwards, and then leaves it, after taking a single mouthful. destructive to the forest is the passage of a troop of elephants! small trees he can tear up with his trunk alone, but to the larger ones he applies the more powerful leverage of his tusks. these he inserts under the roots, imbedded as they usually are in loose sandy earth, and then, with a quick jerk, he tosses roots, trunk, and branches, high into the air,--a wonderful exhibition of gigantic power. the hunters saw all these proof's of it, as they followed the spoor. the traces of the elephant's strength were visible all along the route. it was enough to beget fear and awe, and none of them were free from such feelings. with so much disposition to commit havoc and ruin in his moments of quietude, what would such a creature be in the hour of excitement and anger? no wonder there was fear in the hearts of the hunters, unpractised as some of them were. still another consideration had its effect upon their minds, particularly on that of the bushman. there was every reason to believe that the animal was a "rover" (_rodeur_),--what among indian hunters is termed a "rogue." elephants of this kind are far more dangerous to approach than their fellows. in fact, under ordinary circumstances, there is no more danger in passing through a herd of elephants than there would be in going among a drove of tame oxen. it is only when the elephant has been attacked or wounded, that he becomes a dangerous enemy. with regard to the "rover" or "rogue," the case is quite different. he is habitually vicious; and will assail either man or any other animal in sight, and without the slightest provocation. he seems to take a pleasure in destruction, and woe to the creature who crosses his path and is not of lighter heels than himself! the rover leads a solitary life, rambling alone through, the forest, and never associating with others of his kind. he appears to be a sort of outlaw from his tribe, banished for bad temper or some other fault, to become more fierce and wicked in his outlawry. there were good reasons for fearing that the elephant they were spooring was a "rover." his being alone was of itself a suspicious circumstance, as elephants usually go, from two to twenty, or even fifty, in a herd. the traces of ruin he had left behind him, his immense spoor, all seemed to mark him out as one of these fierce creatures. that such existed in that district they already had evidence. swartboy alleged that the one killed by the rhinoceros was of this class, else he would not have attacked the latter as he had done. there was a good deal of probability in this belief of the bushman. under these impressions, then, it is less to be wondered, that our hunters felt some apprehensions of danger from the game they were pursuing. the spoor grew fresher and fresher. the hunters saw trees turned bottom upward, the roots exhibiting the marks of the elephant's teeth, and still wet with the saliva from his vast mouth. they saw broken branches of the mimosas giving out their odour, that had not had time to waste itself. they concluded the game could not be distant. they rounded a point of timber--the bushman being a little in the advance. suddenly swartboy stopped and fell back a pace. he turned his face upon his companions. his eyes rolled faster than ever; but, although his lips appeared to move, and his tongue to wag, he was too excited to give utterance to a word. a volley of clicks and hisses came forth, but nothing articulate! the others, however, did not require any words to tell them what was meant. they knew that swartboy intended to whisper that he had seen "da oliphant;" so both peeped silently around the bush, and with their own eyes looked upon the mighty quadruped. chapter twenty nine. a rogue elephant. the elephant was standing in a grove of _mokhala_ trees. these, unlike the humbler mimosas, have tall naked stems, with heads of thick foliage, in form resembling an umbrella or parasol. their pinnate leaves of delicate green are the favourite food of the giraffe, hence their botanical appellation of _acacia giraffae_; and hence also their common name among the dutch hunters of "cameel-doorns" (camel-thorns). the tall giraffe, with his prehensile lip, raised nearly twenty-feet in the air, can browse upon these trees without difficulty. not so the elephant, whose trunk cannot reach so high; and the latter would often have to imitate the fox in the fable, were he not possessed of a means whereby he can bring the tempting morsel within reach--that is, simply by breaking down the tree. this his vast strength enables him to do, unless when the trunk happens to be one of the largest of its kind. when the eyes of our hunters first rested upon the elephant, he was standing by the head of a prostrate mokhala, which he had just broken off near the root. he was tearing away at the leaves, and filling his capacious stomach. as soon as swartboy recovered the control over his tongue, he ejaculated in a hurried whisper:-- "pas op! (take care!) baas bloom,--hab good care--don't go near um--he da skellum ole klow. my footy! he wicked!--i know de ole bull duyvel." by this volley of queer phrases, swartboy meant to caution his master against rashly approaching the elephant, as he knew him to be one of the wicked sort--in short, a "rogue." how swartboy knew this would appear a mystery, as there were no particular marks about the animal to distinguish him from others of his kind. but the bushman, with his practised eye, saw something in the general physiognomy of the elephant--just as one may distinguish a fierce and dangerous bull from those of milder disposition, or a bad from a virtuous man, by some expression that one cannot define. von bloom himself, and even hendrik, saw that the elephant had a fierce and ruffian look. they did not stand in need of swartboy's advice to act with caution. they remained for some minutes, gazing through the bushes at the huge quadruped. the more they gazed, the more they became resolved to make an attack upon him. the sight of his long tusks was too tempting to von bloom, to admit for a moment the thought of letting him escape without a fight. a couple of bullets he should have into him, at all events; and if opportunity offered, a good many more, should these not be sufficient. von bloom would not relinquish those fine tusks without a struggle. he at once set about considering the safest mode of attack; but was not allowed time to mature any plan. the elephant appeared to be restless, and was evidently about to move forward. he might be off in a moment, and carry them after him for miles, or, perhaps, in the thick cover of wait-a-bits get lost to them altogether. these conjectures caused von bloom to decide at once upon beginning the attack, and without any other plan than to stalk in as near as would be safe, and deliver his fire. he had heard that a single bullet in the forehead would kill any elephant; and if he could only get in such a position as to have a fair shot at the animal's front, he believed he was marksman enough to plant his bullet in the right place. he was mistaken as to killing an elephant with a shot in the forehead. that is a notion of gentlemen who have hunted the elephant in their closets, though other closet gentlemen the anatomists--to whom give all due credit--have shown the thing to be impossible, from the peculiar structure of the elephant's skull and the position of his brain. von bloom at the time was under this wrong impression, and therefore committed a grand mistake. instead of seeking a side shot, which he could have obtained with far less trouble--he decided on creeping round in front of the elephant, and firing right in the animal's face. leaving hendrik and swartboy to attack him from behind, he took a circuit under cover of the bushes; and at length arrived in the path the elephant was most likely to take. he had scarcely gained his position, when he saw the huge animal coming towards him with silent and majestic tread; and although the elephant only walked, half-a-dozen of his gigantic strides brought him close up to the ambushed hunter. as yet the creature uttered no cry; but as he moved, von bloom could hear a rumbling gurgling sound, as of water dashing to and fro in his capacious stomach! von bloom had taken up his position behind the trunk of a large tree. the elephant had not yet seen him, and, perhaps, would have passed on without knowing that he was there, had the hunter permitted him. the latter even thought of such a thing, for although a man of courage, the sight of the great forest giant caused him for a moment to quail. but, again, the curving ivory gleamed in his eyes--again he remembered the object that had brought him into that situation; he thought of his fallen fortunes--of his resolve to retrieve them--of his children's welfare. these thoughts resolved him. his long roer was laid over a knot in the trunk--its muzzle pointed at the forehead of the advancing elephant--his eye gleamed through the sights--the loud detonation followed--and a cloud of smoke for a moment hid everything from his view. he could hear a hoarse bellowing trumpet-like sound--he could hear the crashing of branches and the gurgling of water; and, when the smoke cleared away, to his chagrin he saw that the elephant was still upon his feet, and evidently not injured in the least! the shot had struck the animal exactly where the hunter had aimed it; but, instead of inflicting a mortal wound, it had only excited the creature to extreme rage. he was now charging about, striking the trees with his tusks, tearing branches off, and tossing them aloft with his trunk--though all the while evidently in ignorance of what had tickled him so impertinently upon the forehead! fortunately for von bloom, a good thick tree sheltered him from the view of the elephant. had the enraged animal caught sight of him at that moment, it would have been all up with him; but the hunter knew this, and had the coolness to remain close and quiet. not so with swartboy. when the elephant moved forward, he and hendrik had crept after through the grove of mokhalas. they had even followed him across the open ground into the bush, where von bloom awaited him. on hearing the shot, and seeing that the elephant was still unhurt, swartboy's courage gave way; and leaving hendrik, he ran back towards the mokhala grove, shouting as he went. his cries reached the ears of the elephant, that at once rushed off in the direction in which he heard them. in a moment he emerged from the bush, and, seeing swartboy upon the open ground, charged furiously after the flying bushman. hendrik--who had stood his ground, and in the shelter of the bushes was not perceived--delivered his shot as the animal passed him. his ball told upon the shoulder, but it only served to increase the elephant's fury. without stopping, he rushed on after swartboy, believing, no doubt, that the poor bushman was the cause of the hurts he was receiving, and the nature of which he but ill understood. it was but a few moments, from the firing of the first shot, until things took this turn. swart boy was hardly clear of the bushes before the elephant emerged also; and as the former struck out for the mokhala trees, he was scarce six steps ahead of his pursuer. swartboy's object was to get to the grove, in the midst of which were several trees of large size. one of these he proposed climbing--as that seemed his only chance for safety. he had not got half over the open ground, when he perceived he would be too late. he heard the heavy rush of the huge monster behind him--he heard his loud and vengeful bellowing--he fancied he felt his hot breath. there was still a good distance to be run. the climbing of the tree, beyond the reach of the elephant's trunk, would occupy time. there was no hope of escaping to the tree. these reflections occurred almost instantaneously. in ten seconds swartboy arrived at the conclusion, that running to the tree would not save him; and all at once he stopped in his career, wheeled round, and faced the elephant! not that he had formed any plan of saving himself in that way. it was not bravery, but only despair, that caused him to turn upon his pursuer. he knew that, by running on, he would surely be overtaken. it could be no worse if he faced round; and, perhaps, he might avoid the fatal charge by some dexterous manoeuvre. the bushman was now right in the middle of the open ground; the elephant rushing straight towards him. the former had no weapon to oppose to his gigantic pursuer. he had thrown away his bow--his axe too--to run the more nimbly. but neither would have been of any avail against such an antagonist. he carried nothing but his sheep-skin kaross. that had encumbered him in his flight; but he had held on to it for a purpose. his purpose was soon displayed. he stood until the extended trunk was within three feet of his face; and then, flinging his kaross so that it should fall over the long cylinder, he sprang nimbly to one side, and started to run back. he would, no doubt, have succeeded in passing to the elephant's rear, and thus have escaped; but as the kaross fell upon the great trunk it was seized in the latter, and swept suddenly around. unfortunately swartboy's legs had not yet cleared the circle--the kaross lapped around them--and the bushman was thrown sprawling upon the plain. in a moment the active swartboy recovered his feet, and was about to make off in a new direction. but the elephant, having discovered the deception of the kaross, had dropped it, and turned suddenly after him. swartboy had hardly made three steps, when the long ivory curve was inserted between his legs from behind; and the next moment his body was pitched high into the air. von bloom and hendrik, who had just then reached the edge of the glade, saw him go up; but to their astonishment he did not come to the ground again! had he fallen back upon the elephant's tusks? and was he held there by the trunk? no. they saw the animal's head. the bushman was not there, nor upon his back, nor anywhere to be seen. in fact, the elephant seemed as much astonished as they at the sudden disappearance of his victim! the huge beast was turning his eyes in every direction, as if searching for the object of his fury! where could swartboy have gone? where? at this moment the elephant uttered a loud roar, and was seen rushing to a tree, which he now caught in his trunk, and shook violently. von bloom and hendrik looked up towards its top, expecting to see swartboy there. sure enough he was there, perched among the leaves and branches where he had been projected! terror was depicted in his countenance, for he felt that he was not safe in his position. but he had scarce time to give utterance to his fears; for the next moment the tree gave way with a crash, and fell to the ground, bringing the bushman down among its branches. it happened that the tree, dragged down by the elephant's trunk, fell towards the animal. swartboy even touched the elephant's body in his descent, and slipped down over his hind-quarters. the branches had broken the fall, and the bushman was still unhurt, but he felt that he was now quite at the mercy of his antagonist. he saw no chance of escape by flight. he was lost! just at that moment an idea entered his mind--a sort of despairing instinct--and springing at one of the hind-legs of the quadruped, he slung his arms around it, and held fast! he at the same time planted his naked feet upon the sabots of those of the animal: so that, by means of this support, he was enabled to keep his hold, let the animal move as it would! the huge mammoth, unable to shake him off, unable to get at him with his trunk--and, above all, surprised and terrified by this novel mode of attack--uttered a shrill scream, and with tail erect and trunk high in air, dashed off into the jungle! swartboy held on to the leg until fairly within the bushes; and then, watching his opportunity, he slipped gently off. as soon as he touched _terra firma_ again, he rose to his feet, and ran with all his might in an opposite direction. he need not have run a single step; for the elephant, as much frightened as he, kept on through the jungle, laying waste the trees and branches in his onward course. the huge quadruped did not stop, till he had put many miles between himself and the scene of his disagreeable adventure! von bloom and hendrik had by this time reloaded, and were advancing to swartboy's rescue; but they were met right in the teeth by the swift-flying bushman, as he returned from his miraculous escape. the hunters, who were now warmed to their work, proposed to follow up the spoor; but swartboy, who had had enough of that "old rogue," declared that there would be not the slightest chance of again coming up with him without horses or dogs; and as they had neither, spooring him any farther would be quite useless. von bloom saw that there was truth in the remark, and now more than ever did he regret the loss of his horses. the elephant, though easily overtaken on horseback, or with dogs to bring him to bay, can as easily escape from a hunter on foot; and once he has made up his mind to flight, it is quite a lost labour to follow him farther. it was now too late in the day to seek for other elephants; and with a feeling of disappointment, the hunters gave up the chase, and turned their steps in the direction of the camp. chapter thirty. the missing hunter, and the wildebeests. a well-known proverb says that "misfortunes seldom come single." on nearing the camp, the hunters could perceive that all was not right there. they saw totty with truey and jan standing by the head of the ladder; but there was something in their manner that told that all was not right. where was hans? as soon as the hunters came in sight, jan and truey ran down the rounds, and out to meet them. there was that in their glances that bespoke ill tidings, and their words soon confirmed this conjecture. hans was not there--he had gone away hours ago--they knew not where, they feared something had happened to him,--they feared he was lost! "but what took him away from the camp?" asked von bloom, surprised and troubled at the news. that, and only that, could they answer. a number of odd-looking animals--very odd-looking, the children said,--had come to the vley to drink. hans had taken his gun and followed them in a great hurry, telling truey and jan to keep in the tree, and not come down until he returned. he would be gone only a very little while, and they needn't fear. this was all they knew. they could not even tell what direction he had taken. he went by the lower end of the vley; but soon the bushes hid him from their view, and they saw no more of him. "at what time was it?" it was many hours ago,--in the morning in fact,--not long after the hunters themselves had started. when he did not return the children grew uneasy; but they thought he had fallen in with papa and hendrik, and was helping them to hunt; and that was the reason why he stayed so long. "had they heard any report of a gun?" no--they had listened for that, but heard none. the animals had gone away before hans could get his gun ready; and they supposed he had to follow some distance before he could overtake them--that might be the reason they had heard no shot. "what sort of animals were they?" they had all seen them plain enough, as they drank. they had never seen any of the kind before. they were large animals of a yellow brown colour, with shaggy manes, and long tufts of hair growing out of their breasts, and hanging down between their fore-legs. they were as big as ponies, said jan, and very like ponies. they curvetted and capered about just as ponies do sometimes. truey thought that they looked more like lions! "lions!" ejaculated her father and hendrik, with an accent that betokened alarm. indeed, they reminded her of lions, truey again affirmed, and totty said the same. "how many were there of them?" "oh! a great drove, not less than fifty." they could not have counted them, as they were constantly in motion, galloping from place to place, and butting each other with their horns. "ha! they had horns then?" interrogated von bloom, relieved by this announcement. certainly they had horns, replied all three. they had seen the horns, sharp-pointed ones, which first came down, and then turned upwards in front of the animals' faces. they had manes too, jan affirmed; and thick necks that curved like that of a beautiful horse; and tufts of hair like brushes upon their noses; and nice round bodies like ponies, and long white tails that reached near the ground, just like the tails of ponies, and finely-shaped limbs as ponies have. "i tell you," continued jan, with emphasis, "if it hadn't been for their horns and the brushes of long hair upon their breasts and noses, i'd have taken them for ponies before anything. they galloped about just like ponies when playing, and ran with their heads down, curving their necks and tossing their manes,--ay, and snorting too, as i've heard ponies; but sometimes they bellowed more like bulls; and, i confess, they looked a good deal like bulls about the head; besides i noticed they had hoofs split like cattle. oh! i had a good look at them while hans was loading his gun. they stayed by the water till he was nearly ready; and when they galloped off, they went in a long string one behind the other with the largest one in front, and another large one in the rear." "wildebeests!" exclaimed hendrik. "gnoos!" cried swartboy. "yes, they must have been wildebeests," said von bloom; "jan's description corresponds exactly to them." this was quite true. jan had correctly given many of the characteristic points of that, perhaps, the most singular of all ruminant animals, the wildebeest or gnoo (_catoblepas gnoo_). the brushlike tuft over the muzzle, the long hair between the fore-legs, the horns curving down over the face, and then sweeping abruptly upward, the thick curving neck, the rounded, compact, horse-shaped body, the long whitish tail, and full flowing mane--all were descriptive of the gnoo. even truey had not made such an unpardonable mistake. the gnoos, and particularly the old bulls, bear a very striking resemblance to the lion, so much so that the sharpest hunters at a distance can scarce tell one from the other. jan, however, had observed them better than truey; and had they been nearer, he might have further noticed that the creatures had red fiery eyes and a fierce look; that their heads and horns were not unlike those of the african buffalo; that their limbs resembled those of the stag, while the rest corresponded well enough to his "pony." he might have observed, moreover, that the males were larger than the females, and of a deeper brown. had there been any "calves" with the herd, he would have seen that these were still lighter-coloured--in fact, of a white or cream colour. the gnoos that had been seen were the common kind called by the dutch colonists "wildebeests" or wild-oxen, and by the hottentots "gnoo" or "gnu," from a hollow moaning sound to which these creatures sometimes give utterance, and which is represented by the word "gnoo-o-oo." they roam in vast flocks upon the wild karoos of south africa; are inoffensive animals, except when wounded; and then the old bulls are exceedingly dangerous, and will attack the hunter both with horns and hoot. they can run with great swiftness, though they scarce ever go clear off, but, keeping at a wary distance, circle around the hunter, curvetting in all directions, menacing with their heads lowered to the ground, kicking up the dust with their heels, and bellowing like bulls, or indeed like lions--for their "rout" bears a resemblance to the lion's roar. the old bulls stand sentry while the herd is feeding, and protect it both in front and rear. when running off they usually go in single file, as jan had represented. old bulls hang between the rear of the herd and the hunter; and these caper back and forward, butting each other with their horns, and often fighting apparently in serious earnest! before the hunter comes within range, however, they drop their conflict and gallop out of his way. nothing can exceed the capricious antics which these animals indulge in, while trooping over the plain. there is a second species of the same genus common in south africa, and a third inhabits still farther to the north; but of the last very little is known. both species are larger than the wildebeest, individuals of either being nearly five feet in height, while the common gnoo is scarce four. the three kinds are quite distinct, and never herd together, though each of them is often found in company with other animals. all three are peculiar to the continent of africa, and are not found elsewhere. the "brindled gnoo" (_catoblepas gorgon_) is the other species that inhabits the south of africa. it is known among the hunters and colonists as "blauw wildebeest" (blue wild-ox). it is of a bluish colour--hence the name, and "brindled," or striped along the sides. its habits are very similar to those of the common gnoo, but it is altogether a heavier and duller animal, and still more eccentric and ungainly in its form. the third species (_catoblepas taurina_) is the "ko-koon" of the natives. it approaches nearer to the brindled gnoo in form and habits; but as it is not found except in the more central and less-travelled portions of africa, less is known about it than either of the others. it is, however, of the same kind; and the three species, differing widely from any other animals known, are entitled to form a distinct and separate genus. they have hitherto generally been classed with the antelopes, though for what reason it is hard to tell. they have far less affinity with the antelope than with the ox; and the everyday observations of the hunter and frontier boor have guided them to a similar conclusion--as their name for these animals (wild-oxen) would imply. observation of this class is usually worth far more than the "speculations" of the closet-naturalist. the gnoo has long been the favourite food of the frontier farmer and hunter. its beef is well flavoured, and the veal of a gnoo-calf is quite a delicacy. the hide is manufactured into harness and straps of different sorts; and the long silky tail is an article of commerce. around every frontier farm-house large piles of gnoo and springbok horns may be seen--the remains of animals that have been captured in the chase. "jaging de wildebeest" (hunting the gnoo) is a favourite pastime of the young boors. large herds of these animals are sometimes driven into valleys, where they are hemmed in, and shot down at will. they can also be lured within range, by exhibiting a red handkerchief or any piece of red cloth--to which colour they have a strong aversion. they may be tamed and domesticated easily enough; but they are not favourite pets with the farmer, who dreads their communicating to his cattle a fatal skin-disease to which the gnoos are subject, and which carries off thousands of them every year. of course von bloom and his companions did not stay to talk over these points. they were too anxious about the fate of the missing hans, to think of anything else. they were about to start out in search of him, when just at that moment my gentleman was seen coming around the end of the lake, trudging very slowly along, under the weight of some large and heavy object, that he carried upon his shoulders. a shout of joy was raised, and in a few moments hans stood in their midst. chapter thirty one. the ant-eater of africa. hans was saluted by a volley of questions, "where have you been? what detained you? what has happened to you? you're all safe and sound? not hurt, i hope?" these and a few others were asked in a breath. "i'm sound as a bell," said hans; "and for the rest of your inquiries i'll answer them all as soon as swartboy has skinned this `aard-vark,' and totty has cooked a piece of it for supper; but i'm too hungry to talk now, so pray excuse me." as hans gave this reply, he cast from his shoulders an animal nearly as big as a sheep, covered with long bristly hair of a reddish-grey colour, and having a huge tail, thick at the root, and tapering like a carrot; a snout nearly a foot long, but quite slender and naked; a very small mouth; erect pointed ears resembling a pair of horns; a low flattish body; short muscular legs; and claws of immense length, especially on the fore-feet, where, instead of spreading out, they were doubled back like shut fists, or the fore hands of a monkey. altogether a very odd animal was that which hans had styled an "aard-vark," and which he desired should be cooked for supper. "well, my boy," replied von bloom, "we'll excuse you, the more so that we are all of us about as hungry as yourself, i fancy. but i think we may as well leave the `aard-vark' for to-morrow's dinner. we've a couple of peacocks here, and totty will get one of them ready sooner than the aard-vark." "as for that," rejoined hans, "i don't care which. i'm just in the condition to eat anything--even a steak of tough old quagga, if i had it; but i think it would be no harm if swartboy--that is, if you're not too tired, old swart--would just peel the skin off this gentleman." hans pointed to the "aard-vark." "and dress him so that he don't spoil," he continued; "for _you_ know, swartboy, that he's a tit-bit--a regular _bonne bouche_--and it would be a pity to let him go to waste in this hot weather. an aard-vark's not to be bagged every day." "you spreichen true, mynheer hans,--swartboy know all dat. him skin an' dress da goup." and, so saying, swartboy out knife, and set to work upon the carcass. now this singular-looking animal which hans called an "aard-vark," and swartboy a "goup," was neither more nor less than the african ant-eater (_orycteropus capensis_). although the colonists term it "aard-vark," which is the dutch for "ground-hog," the animal has but little in common with the hog kind. it certainly bears some resemblance to a pig about the snout and cheeks; and that, with its bristly hair and burrowing habits, has no doubt given rise to the mistaken name. the "ground" part of the title is from the fact that it is a burrowing animal,--indeed, one of the best "terriers" in the world. it can make its way under ground faster than the spade can follow it, and faster than any badger. in size, habits, and the form of many parts of its body, it bears a striking resemblance to its south american cousin the "tamanoir" (_myrmecophaga jubata_), which of late years has become so famous as almost to usurp the title of "ant-eater." but the "aard-vark" is just as good an ant-eater as he,-- can "crack" as thick-walled a house, can rake up and devour as many termites as any "ant-bear" in the length and breadth of the amazon valley. he has got, moreover, as "tall" a tail as the tamanoir, very nearly as long a snout, a mouth equally small, and a tongue as extensive and extensile. in claws he can compare with his american cousin any day, and can walk just as awkwardly upon the sides of his fore-paws with "toes turned in." why, then, may i ask, do we hear so much talk of the "tamanoir," while not a word is said of the "aard-vark?" every museum and menagerie is bragging about having a specimen of the former, while not one cares to acknowledge their possession of the latter! why this envious distinction? i say it's all barnum. it's because the "aard-vark" is a dutchman--a cape boor--and the boors have been much bullied of late. that's the reason why zoologists and showmen have treated my thick-tailed boy so shabbily. but it shan't be so any longer; i stand up for the aard-vark; and, although the tamanoir has been specially called _myrmecophaga_, or ant-eater, i say that the _orycteropus_ is as good an ant-eater as he. he can break through ant-hills quite as big and bigger--some of them twenty-feet high--he can project as long and as gluey a tongue--twenty inches long--he can play it as nimbly and "lick up" as many white ants, as any tamanoir. he can grow as fat too, and weigh as heavy, and, what is greatly to his credit, he can provide you with a most delicate roast when you choose to kill and eat him. it is true he tastes slightly of formic acid, but that is just the flavour that epicures admire. and when you come to speak of "hams,"--ah! try _his_! cure them well and properly, and eat one, and you will never again talk of "spanish" or "westphalian." hans knew the taste of those hams--well he did, and so too swartboy; and it was not against his inclination, but _con amore_, that the latter set about butchering the "goup." swartboy knew how precious a morsel he held between his fingers,--precious, not only on account of its intrinsic goodness, but from its rarity; for although the aard-vark is a common animal in south africa, and in some districts even numerous, it is not every day the hunter can lay his hands upon one. on the contrary, the creature is most difficult to capture; though not to kill, for a blow on the snout will do that. but just as he is easily killed when you catch him, in the same proportion is he hard to catch. he is shy and wary, scarce ever comes out of his burrow but at night; and even then skulks so silently along, and watches around him so sharply, that no enemy can approach without his knowing it. his eyes are very small, and, like most nocturnal animals, he sees but indifferently; but in the two senses of smell and hearing he is one of the sharpest. his long erect ears enable him to catch every sound that may be made in his neighbourhood, however slight. the "aard-vark" is not the only ant-eating quadruped of south africa. there is another four-footed creature as fond of white ants as he; but this is an animal of very different appearance. it is a creature without hair; but, instead its body is covered all over with a regular coat of scales, each as large as a half-crown piece. these scales slightly overlie each other, and can be raised on end at the will of the animal. in form it resembles a large lizard, or a small crocodile, more than an ordinary quadruped, but its habits are almost exactly like those of the aard-vark. it burrows, digs open the ant-hills by night, projects a long viscous tongue among the insects, and devours them with avidity. when suddenly overtaken, and out of reach of its underground retreat, it "clews" up like the hedgehog, and some species of the south american armadillos--to which last animal it bears a considerable resemblance on account of its scaly coat of mail. this ant-eater is known as the "pangolin," or "manis," but there are several species of "pangolin" not african. some are met with in southern asia and the indian islands. that which is found in south africa is known among naturalists as the "long-tailed" or "temminck" pangolin (_manis temminckii_). totty soon produced a roasted "peacock," or rather a hastily-broiled bustard. but, although, perhaps, not cooked "to a turn," it was sufficiently well done to satisfy the stomachs for which it was intended. they were all too hungry to be fastidious, and, without a word of criticism, they got through their dinner. hans then commenced relating the history of his day's adventure. chapter thirty two. hans chased by the wildebeest. "well," began hans, "you had not been gone more than an hour, when a herd of wildebeests was seen approaching the vley. they came on in single file; but they had broken rank, and were splashing about in the water, before i thought of molesting them in any way. "of course i knew what they were, and that they were proper game; but i was so interested in watching their ludicrous gambols, that i did not think about my gun, until the whole herd had nearly finished drinking. then i remembered that we were living on dry biltongue, and would be nothing the worse of a change. i noticed, moreover, that in the herd of gnoos there were some young ones--which i was able to tell from their being smaller than the rest, and also by their lighter colour. i knew that the flesh of these is most excellent eating, and therefore made up my mind we should all dine upon it. "i rushed up the ladder for my gun; and then discovered how imprudent i had been in not loading it at the time you all went away. i had not thought of any sudden emergency,--but that was very foolish, for how knew i what might happen in a single hour or minute even? "i loaded the piece in a grand hurry, for i saw the wildebeests leaving the water; and, as soon as the bullet was rammed home, i ran down the ladder. before i had reached the bottom, i saw that i had forgotten to bring either powder-horn or pouch. i was in too hot a haste to go back for them, for i saw the last of the wildebeests moving off, and i fancied i might be too late. but i had no intention of going any great distance in pursuit. a single shot at them was all i wanted, and that in the gun would do. "i hastened after the game, keeping as well as i could under cover. i found, after a little time, that i need not have been so cautious. the wildebeests, instead of being shy--as i had seen them in our old neighbourhood--appeared to have very little fear of me. this was especially the case with the old bulls, who capered and careered about within an hundred yards' distance, and sometimes permitted me to approach even nearer. it was plain they had never been hunted. "once or twice i was within range of a pair of old bulls, who seemed to act as a rearguard. but i did not want to shoot one of them. i knew their flesh would turn out tough. i wished to get something more tender. i wished to send a bullet into a heifer, or one of the young bulls whose horns had not yet begun to curve. of these i saw several in the herd. "tame as the animals were, i could not manage to get near enough to any of these. the old bulls at the head always led them beyond my range; and the two, that brought up the rear, seemed to drive them forward as i advanced upon them. "well, in this way they beguiled me along for more than a mile; and the excitement of the chase made me quite forget how wrong it was of me to go so far from the camp. but thinking about the meat, and still hopeful of getting a shot, i kept on. "at length the hunt led me into ground where there was no longer any bush; but there was good cover, notwithstanding, in the ant-hills, that, like great tents, stood at equal distances from each other scattered over the plain. these were very large--some of them more than twelve feet high--and differing from the dome-shaped kind so common everywhere. they were of the shape of large cones, or rounded pyramids, with a number of smaller cones rising around their bases, and clustering like turrets along their sides. i knew they were the hills of a species of white ant called by entomologists _termes bellicosus_. "there were other hills, of cylinder shape and rounded tops, that stood only about a yard high; looking like rolls of unbleached linen set upright--each with an inverted basin upon its end. these were the homes of a very different species, the _termes mordax_ of the entomologists; though still another species of _termes_ (_termes atrox_) build their nests in the same form. "i did not stop then to examine these curious structures. i only speak of them now, to give you an idea of the sort of place it was, so that you may understand what followed. "what with the cone-shaped hills and the cylinders, the plain was pretty well covered. one or the other was met with every two hundred yards; and i fancied with these for a shelter i should have but little difficulty in getting within shot of the gnoos. "i made a circuit to head them, and crept up behind a large cone-shaped hill, near which the thick of the drove was feeding. when i peeped through the turrets, to my chagrin, i saw that the cows and younger ones had been drawn off beyond reach, and the two old bulls were, as before, capering between me and the herd. "i repeated the manoeuvre, and stalked in behind another large cone, close to which the beasts were feeding. when i raised myself for a shot, i was again disappointed. the herd had moved off as before, and the brace of bulls still kept guard in the rear. "i began to feel provoked. the conduct of the bulls annoyed me exceedingly, and i really fancied that they knew it. their manoeuvres were of the oddest kind, and some of them appeared to be made for the purpose of mocking me. at times they would charge up very close--their heads set in a menacing attitude; and i must confess that with their black shaggy fronts, their sharp horns, and glaring red eyes, they looked anything but pleasant neighbours. "i got so provoked with them at last, that i resolved they should bother me no longer. if they would not permit me to shoot one of the others, i was determined they themselves should not escape scot-free, but should pay dearly for their temerity and insolence. i resolved to put a bullet through one of them, at least. "just as i was about raising my gun to fire, i perceived that they had placed themselves in attitude for a new fight. this they did by dropping on their knees, and sliding forward until their heads came in contact. they would then spring up, make a sudden bound forward, as if to get uppermost, and trample one another with their hoofs. failing in this, both would rush past, until they were several yards apart; then wheel round, drop once more to their knees; and advance as before. "hitherto i had looked upon these conflicts as merely playful; and so i fancy most of them were. but this time the bulls seemed to be in earnest. the loud cracking of their helmet-covered foreheads against each other, their fierce snorting and bellowing, and, above all, their angry manner, convinced me that they had really quarrelled, and were serious about it. "one of them, at length, seemed to be getting knocked over repeatedly. every time he had partially risen to his feet, and before he could quite recover them, his antagonist rushed upon him, and butted him back upon his side. "seeing them so earnestly engaged, i thought i might as well make a sure shot of it, by going a little nearer; so i stepped from behind the ant-hill, and walked towards the combatants. neither took any notice of my approach--the one because he had enough to do to guard himself from the terrible blows, and the other because he was so occupied in delivering them. "when within twenty paces i levelled my gun. i chose the bull who appeared victor, partly as a punishment for his want of feeling in striking a fallen antagonist, but, perhaps, more because his broadside was towards me, and presented a fairer mark. "i fired. "the smoke hid both for a moment. when it cleared off, i saw the bull that had been conquered still down in a kneeling attitude, but, to my great surprise, the one at which i had aimed was upon his feet, apparently as brisk and sound as ever! i knew i had hit him somewhere-- as i heard the `thud' of the bullet on his fat body--but it was plain i had not crippled him. "i was not allowed time for reflection as to where i had wounded him. not an instant indeed, for the moment the smoke cleared away, instead of the bulls clearing off also, i saw the one i had shot at fling up his tail, lower his shaggy front, and charge right towards me! "his fierce eyes glanced with a revengeful look, and his roar was enough to have terrified one more courageous than i. i assure you i was less frightened the other day when i encountered the lion. "i did not know what to do for some moments. i thought of setting myself in an attitude of defence, and involuntarily had turned my gun which was now empty--intending to use it as a club. but i saw at once, that the slight blow i could deliver would not stop the onset of such a strong fierce animal, and that he would butt me over, and gore me, to a certainty. "i turned my eyes to see what hope there lay in flight. fortunately they fell upon an ant-hill--the one i had just emerged from. i saw at a glance, that by climbing it i would be out of reach of the fierce wildebeest. would i have time to get to it before he could overtake me? "i ran like a frightened fox. you, hendrik, can beat me running upon ordinary occasions. i don't think you could have got quicker to that ant-hill than i did. "i was not a second too soon. as i clutched at the little turrets, and drew myself up, i could hear the rattle of the wildebeest's hoofs behind me, and i fancied i felt his hot breath upon my heels. "but i reached the top cone in safety; and then turned and looked down at my pursuer. i saw that he could not follow me any farther. sharp as his horns were, i saw that i was safe out of their reach." chapter thirty three. besieged by the bull. "well," continued hans, after a pause, "i began to congratulate myself on my fortunate escape; for i was convinced that but for the ant-hill i would have been trampled and gored to death. the bull was one of the largest and fiercest of his kind, and a _very_ old one too, as i could tell by the bases of his thick black horns nearly meeting over his forehead, as well as by his dark colour. i had plenty of time to note these things. i felt that i was now safe--that the wildebeest could not get near me; and i sat perched upon the top of the central cone, watching his movements with perfect coolness. "it is true he did everything to reach my position. a dozen times he charged up the hill, and more than once effected a lodgment among the tops of the lower turrets, but the main one was too steep for him. no wonder! it, had tried my own powers to scale it. "at times he came so close to me in his desperate efforts, that i could have touched his horns with the muzzle of my gun; and i had prepared to give him a blow whenever i could get a good chance. i never saw a creature behave so fiercely. the fact was, that i had hit him with my bullet,--the wound was there along his jaw, and bleeding freely. the pain of it maddened him; but that was not the only cause of his fury, as i afterwards discovered. "well. after several unsuccessful attempts to scale the cone, he varied his tactics, and commenced butting the ant-heap as though he would bring it down. he repeatedly backed, and then charged forward upon it with all his might; and, to say the truth, it looked for some time as though he would succeed. "several of the lesser cones were knocked over by his powerful blows; and the hard tough clay yielded before his sharp horns, used by him as inverted pickaxes. in several places i could see that he had laid open the chambers of the insects, or rather the ways and galleries that are placed in the outer crust of the hill. "with all this i felt no fear. i was under the belief that he would soon exhaust his rage and go away; and then i could descend without danger. but after watching him a good long spell, i was not a little astonished to observe that, instead of cooling down, he seemed to grow more furious than ever. i had taken out my handkerchief to wipe the perspiration off my face. it was as hot as an oven where i sat. not a breath of air was stirring, and the rays of the sun, glaring right down and then reflecting up again from the white clay, brought the perspiration out of me in streams. every minute i was obliged to rub my eyes clear of it with the handkerchief. "now, before passing the kerchief over my face, i always shook it open; and each time i did so, i noticed that the rage of the wildebeest seemed to be redoubled! in fact, at such times he would leave off goring the heap, and make a fresh attempt to rush up at me, roaring his loudest as he charged against the steep wall! "i was puzzled at this, as well as astonished. what could there be in my wiping my face to provoke the wildebeest anew? and yet such was clearly the case. every time i did so, he appeared to swell with a fresh burst of passion! "the explanation came at length. i saw that it was not the wiping off the perspiration that provoked him. it was the shaking out of my handkerchief. this was, as you know, of a bright scarlet colour. i thought of this, and then, for the first time, remembered having heard that anything scarlet has a most powerful effect upon the wildebeest, and excites him to a rage resembling madness. "i did not wish to keep up his fury. i crumpled up the handkerchief and buried it in my pocket--preferring to endure the perspiration rather than remain there any longer. by hiding the scarlet, i conceived a hope he would the sooner cool down, and go away. "but i had raised a devil in him too fierce to be so easily laid. he showed no signs of cooling down. on the contrary, he continued to charge, butt, and bellow, as vengefully as ever--though the scarlet was no longer before his eyes. "i began to feel really annoyed. i had no idea the gnoo was so implacable in his rage. the bull evidently felt pain from his wound. i could perceive that he moaned it. he knew well enough it was i who had given him this pain. "he appeared determined not to let me escape retribution. he showed no signs of an intention to leave the place; but laboured away with hoof and horns, as if he would demolish the mound. "i was growing very tired of my situation though not afraid that the bull could reach me, i was troubled by the thought of being so long absent from our camp. i knew i should have been there. i thought of my little sister and brother. some misfortune might befall them. i was very sad about that, though up to that time i had little or no fears for myself. i was still in hopes the wildebeest would tire out and leave me, and then i could soon run home. "i say, up to that time i had no very serious fears for myself-- excepting the moment or two when the bull was chasing me to the hill; but that little fright was soon over. "but now appeared a new object of dread--another enemy, as terrible as the enraged bull--that almost caused me to sprint down upon the horns of the latter in my first moments of alarm! "i have said that the wildebeest had broken down several of the lesser turrets--the outworks of the ant-hill--and had laid open the hollow spaces within. he had not penetrated to the main dome, but only the winding galleries and passages that perforate the outer walls. "i noticed, that, as soon as these were broken open, a number of ants had rushed out from each. indeed, i had observed many of the creatures crawling outside the hill, when i first approached it, and had wondered at this--as i knew that they usually keep under ground when going and coming from their nests. i had observed all this, without taking note of it at the time--being too intent in my stalk to think of anything else. for the last half-hour i was too busy watching the manoeuvres of the wildebeest bull, to take my gaze off him for a moment. "something in motion directly under me at length caught my eye, and i looked down to see what it was. the first glance caused me to jump to my feet; and, as i have already said, very nearly impelled me to leap down upon the horns of the bull! "swarming all over the hill, already clustering upon my shoes, and crawling still higher, were the crowds of angry ants. every hole that the bull had made was yielding out its throng of spiteful insects; and all appeared moving towards _me_! "small as the creatures were, i fancied i saw design in their movements. they seemed all actuated with the same feeling--the same impulse--that of attacking me. i could not be mistaken in their intent. they moved all together, as if guided and led by intelligent beings; and they advanced towards the spot on which i stood. "i saw, too, that they were the _soldiers_. i knew these from the workers, by their larger heads and long horny mandibles. i knew they could bite fiercely and painfully. "the thought filled me with horror. i confess it, i never was so horrified before. my late encounter with the lion was nothing to compare with it. "my first impression was that i would be destroyed by the termites. i had heard of such things--i remembered that i had. it was that, no doubt, that frightened me so badly. i had heard of men in their sleep being attacked by the white ants, and bitten to death. such memories came crowding upon me at the moment, until i felt certain, that if i did not soon escape from that spot, the ants would _sting me to death and eat me up_!" chapter thirty four. a helpless beast. "what was to be done? how was i to avoid both enemies? if i leaped down, the wildebeest would kill me to a certainty. he was still there, with his fierce eye bent upon me continually. if i remained where i was, i would soon be covered with the swarming hideous insects, and eaten up like an old rag. "already i felt their terrible teeth. those that had first crawled to my feet i had endeavoured to brush off; but some had got upon my ankles, and were biting me through my thick woollen socks! my clothes would be no protection. "i had mounted to the highest part of the cone, and was standing upon its apex. it was so sharp i could scarcely balance myself, but the painful stings of the insects caused me to dance upon it like a mountebank. "but what signified those, that had already stung my ankles, to the numbers that were likely soon to pierce me with their venomous darts? already these were swarming up the last terrace. they would soon cover the apex of the cone upon which i was standing. they would crawl up my limbs in myriads--they would-- "i could reflect no longer on what they would do. i preferred taking my chance with the wildebeest. i would leap down. perhaps some lucky accident might aid me. i would battle with the gnoo, using my gun. perhaps i might succeed in escaping to some other hill. perhaps-- "i was actually on the spring to leap down, when a new thought came into my mind; and i wondered i had been so silly as not to think of it before. what was to hinder me from keeping off the termites? they had no wings--the soldiers have none--nor the workers neither, for that matter. they could not fly upon me. they could only crawl up the cone. with my jacket i could brush them back. certainly i could--why did i not think of it before? "i was not long in taking off my jacket. i laid aside my useless gun, dropping it upon one of the lower terraces. i caught the jacket by the collar; and, using it as a duster, i cleared the sides of the cone in a few moments, having sent thousands of the termites tumbling headlong below. "pshaw! how simply the thing was done! why had i not done it before? it cost scarcely an effort to brush the myriads away, and a slight effort would keep them off as long as i pleased. "the only annoyance i felt now was from the few that had got under my trousers, and that still continued to bite me; but these i would get rid of in time. "well--i remained on the apex, now bending down to beat back the soldiers that still swarmed upward, and then occupying myself in trying to get rid of the few that crawled upon me. i felt no longer any uneasiness on the score of the insects--though i was not a bit better off as regarded the bull, who still kept guard below. i fancied, however, that he now showed symptoms of weariness, and would soon raise the siege; and this prospect made me feel more cheerful. "a sudden change came over me. a new thrill of terror awaited me. "while jumping about upon the top of the cone, my footing suddenly gave way--the baked clay broke with a dead crash, and i sank through the roof. my feet shot down into the hollow dome--till i thought i must have crushed the great queen in her chamber--and i stood buried to the neck. "i was surprised, and a little terrified, not by the shock i had experienced in the sudden descent. that was natural enough, and a few moments would have restored my equanimity; but it was something else that frightened me. it was something that moved under my feet as they touched bottom,--something that moved and heaved under them, and then passed quickly away, letting me still farther down! "what could it be? was it the great swarm of living ants that i pressed upon: i did not think it was. it did not _feel like them_. it seemed to be something bulky and strong, for it held up my whole weight for a moment or two, before it slipped from under me. "whatever it was, it frightened me very considerably; and i did not leave my feet in its company for five seconds time. no: the hottest furnace would scarce have scorched them during the time they remained inside the dark dome. in five seconds they were on the walls again--on the broken edges, where i had mounted up, and where i now stood quite speechless with surprise! "what next? i could keep the ants off no longer. i gazed down the dark cavity; they were swarming up that way in thick crowds. i could brush them down no more. "my eyes at this moment chanced to wander to the bull. he was standing at three or four paces distance from the base of the hill. he was standing sideways with his head turned to it, and regarding it with a wild look. his attitude was entirely changed, and so, i thought, was the expression of his eye. he looked as if he had just run off to his new position, and was ready to make a second start. he looked as if something had also terrified _him_! "something evidently had; for, in another moment, he uttered a sharp rout, galloped several paces farther out, wheeled again, halted, and stood gazing as before! "what could it mean? was it the breaking through of the roof and my sudden descent that had frightened him? "at first i thought so, but i observed that he did not look upward to the top. his gaze seemed bent on some object near the base of the hill--though from where i stood i could see nothing there to frighten him. "i had not time to reflect what it could be, before the bull uttered a fresh snort; and, raising his tail high into the air, struck off at full gallop over the plain! "rejoiced at seeing this, i thought no more of what had relieved me of his company. it must have been my curious fall, i concluded; but no matter now that the brute was gone. so seizing hold of my gun, i prepared to descend from the elevated position, of which i was thoroughly tired. "just as i had got half down the side, i chanced to look below; and there was the object that terrified the old bull. no wonder. it might have terrified anything,--the odd-looking creature that it was. from out a hole in the clay wall protruded a long naked cylindrical snout, mounted by a pair of ears nearly as long as itself, that stood erect like the horns of a steinbuck, and gave to the animal that bore them a wild and vicious look. it would have badly frightened me, had i not known what it was; but i recognised it at once as one of the most inoffensive creatures in the world--the `aard-vark.' "his appearance accounted for the retreat of the bull, and also explained why the ants had been crawling about on my first reaching their hill. "without saying a word, or making the slightest noise, i clubbed my gun; and, bending downward, struck the protruded snout a blow with the butt. it was a most wicked blow; and, considering the service the creature had just done me in frightening off the wildebeest, a most ungrateful return. but i was not master of my feelings at the moment. i did not reflect--only that i liked aard-vark flesh--and the blow was given. "poor fellow! it did the job for him. with scarce a kick he dropped dead in the opening he had scraped with his own claws. "well--my day's adventures were not yet ended. they seemed as though they were never to end. i had got the aard-vark over my shoulders, and was about heading homeward, when, to my astonishment, i observed that the bull-gnoo--not the one that had besieged me, but his late antagonist--was still out upon the plain where i had last seen him! i observed, moreover, that he was still in a sort of half-lying half-kneeling attitude, with his head close to the ground! "his odd movements seemed stranger than anything else. i fancied he had been badly hurt by the other, and was not able to get away. "at first i was cautious about going near him--remembering my late narrow escape--and i thought of giving him a wide berth, and leaving him alone. even though wounded, he might be strong enough to charge upon me; and my empty gun, as i had already proved, would be but a poor weapon with which to defend myself. "i hesitated about going near him; but curiosity grew strong within me, as i watched his queer manoeuvres; until at length i walked up within a dozen yards of where he was kneeling. "fancy my surprise on discovering the cause of his oblique movements. no hurt had he received of any kind--not even a scratch; but for all that, he was as completely crippled as if he had lost his best pair of legs. "in a very singular manner was he rendered thus helpless. in his struggle with the other bull, one of his fore-legs had, somehow or other, got passed over his horn; and there it stuck--not only depriving him of the use of the limb itself, but holding his head so close to the ground that he was quite unable to stir from the spot! "at first i designed helping him out of his difficulty, and letting him go. on second thoughts, i remembered the story of the husbandman and the frozen snake, which quite changed my intention. "i next thought of killing him for venison; but having no bullet, i did not like to beat him to death with my gun. besides the aard-vark was my load to camp, and i knew that the jackals would eat the bull up before we could go back for him. i thought it probable he would be safer left as he was--as these ravenous brutes, seeing him alive, might not so readily approach him. "so i left him with his `head under his arm,' in hopes that we may find him there to-morrow." so ended hans's narrative of his day's adventures. chapter thirty five. the elephant's sleeping-roost. the field-cornet was far from satisfied with his day's work. his first attempt at elephant-hunting had proved a failure. might it not be always so? notwithstanding the interest with which he listened to hans's narrative of the day's adventures, he felt uneasy in his mind when he reflected upon his own. the elephant had escaped so easily. their bullets seemed to have injured him not the least. they had only served to render him furious, and dangerous. though both had hit him in places where their wounds should have been mortal, no such effect was produced. the elephant seemed to go off as unscathed, as if they had fired only boiled peas at him! would it be always so? true, they had given him but two shots. two, if well directed, may bring down a cow-elephant and sometimes a bull, but oftener it requires ten times two before a strong old bull can be made to "bite the dust." but would _any_ elephant wait until they could load and fire a sufficient number of shots? that was an undecided point with our tyro elephant-hunters. if _not_, then they would be helpless indeed. it would be a tedious business spooring the game afoot, after it had once been fired upon. in such cases the elephant usually travels many miles before halting again; and only mounted men can with any facility overtake him. how von bloom sighed when he thought of his poor horses! now more than ever did he feel the want of them--now more than ever did he regret their loss. but he had heard that the elephant does not _always_ make off when attacked. the old bull had shown no intention of retreating, after receiving their shots. it was the odd conduct of swartboy that had put him to flight. but for that, he would no doubt have kept the ground, until they had given him another volley, and perhaps his death-wound. the field-cornet drew consolation from this last reflection. perhaps their next encounter would have a different ending. perhaps a pair of tusks would reward them. the hope of such a result, as well as the anxiety about it, determined von bloom to lose no time in making a fresh trial. next morning, therefore, before the sun was up, the hunters were once more upon the trail of their giant game. one precaution they had taken, which they had not thought of before. all of them had heard that an ordinary leaden bullet will not penetrate the tough thick skin of the great "pachyderm." perhaps this had been the cause of their failure on the preceding day. if so they had provided against the recurrence of failure from such a cause. they had moulded a new set of balls of harder material,--solder it should have been, but they had none. they chanced, however, to be in possession of what served the purpose equally well--the old "plate" that had often graced the field-cornet's table in his better byegone days of the graaf reinet. this consisted of candlesticks, and snuffer-trays, and dish-covers, and cruet-stands, and a variety of articles of the real "dutch metal." some of these were condemned to the alembic of the melting-pan; and, mixed with the common lead, produced a set of balls hard enough for the hide of the rhinoceros itself--so that this day the hunters had no fears of failure upon the score of soft bullets. they went in the same direction as upon the preceding day, towards the forest or "bush" (bosch), as they termed it. they had not proceeded a mile when they came upon the spoor of elephants nearly fresh. it passed through the very thickest of the thorny jungle--where no creature but an elephant, a rhinoceros, or a man with an axe, could have made way. a family must have passed, consisting of a male, a female or two, and several young ones of different ages. they had marched in single file, as elephants usually do; and had made a regular lane several feet wide, which was quite clear of bushes, and trampled by their immense footsteps. the old bull, swartboy said, had gone in advance, and had cleared the way of all obstructions, by means of his trunk and tusks. this had evidently been the case, for the hunters observed huge branches broken off, or still hanging and turned to one side, out of the way--just as if the hand of man had done it. swartboy further affirmed, that such elephant-roads usually led to water; and by the very easiest and shortest routes--as if they had been planned and laid open by the skill of an engineer--showing the rare instinct or sagacity of these animals. the hunters, therefore, expected soon to arrive at some watering-place; but it was equally probable the spoor might be leading them _from_ the water. they had not followed it more than a quarter of a mile, when they came upon another road of a similar kind, that crossed the one they were spooring upon. this had also been made by a number of elephants--a family most likely--and the tracks upon it were as recent as those they had been following. they hesitated for a moment which to take; but at length concluded upon keeping straight on; and so they moved forward as before. to their great disappointment the trail at last led out into more open ground, where the elephants had scattered about; and after following the tracks of one, and then another without success, they got bewildered, and lost the spoor altogether. while casting about to find it in a place where the bush was thin and straggling, swartboy suddenly ran off to one side, calling to the others to follow him. von bloom and hendrik went after to see what the bushman was about. they thought he had seen an elephant, and both, considerably excited, had already pulled the covers off their guns. there was no elephant, however. when they came up with swartboy, he was standing under a tree, and pointing to the ground at its bottom. the hunters looked down. they saw that the ground upon one side of the tree was trampled, as though horses or some other animals had been tied there for a long time, and had worn off the turf, and worked it into dust with their hoofs. the bark of the tree--a full-topped shady acacia--for some distance up was worn smooth upon one side, just as though cattle had used it for a rubbing-post. "what has done it?" asked the field-cornet and hendrik in a breath. "da olifant's slapen-boom," (the elephant's sleeping-tree), replied swartboy. no further explanation was necessary. the hunters remembered what they had been told about a curious habit which the elephant has--of leaning against a tree while asleep. this, then, was one of the sleeping-trees of these animals. but of what use to them, farther than to gratify a little curiosity? the elephant was not there. "da ole karl come again," said swartboy. "ha! you think so, swart?" inquired von bloom. "ya, baas, lookee da! spoor fresh--da groot olifant hab slap here yesterday." "what then? you think we should lie in wait, and shoot him when he returns." "no, baas, better dan shoot, we make him bed--den wait see um lie down." swartboy grinned a laugh as he gave this piece of advice. "make his bed! what do you mean?" inquired his master. "i tell you, baas, we get da olifant sure, if you leave da job to ole swart. i gib you de plan for take him, no waste powder, no waste bullet." the bushman proceeded to communicate his plan, to which his master-- remembering their failure of yesterday--readily gave his consent. fortunately they had all the implements that would be necessary for carrying it out,--a sharp axe, a strong rope or "rheim" of raw-hide, and their knives--and they set about the business without loss of time. chapter thirty six. making the elephant's bed. to the hunters time was a consideration. if the elephant should return that day, it would be just before the hottest hours of noon. they had, therefore, scarce an hour left to prepare for him--to "make his bed," as swartboy had jocosely termed it. so they went to work with alacrity, the bushman acting as director-general, while the other two received their orders from him with the utmost obedience. the first work which swartboy assigned to them was, to cut and prepare three stakes of hard wood. they were to be each about three feet long, as thick as a man's arm, and pointed at one end. these were soon procured. the iron-wood (_olca undulata_) which grew in abundance in the neighbourhood, furnished the very material; and after three pieces of sufficient length had been cut down with the axe, they were reduced to the proper size, and pointed by the knives of the hunters. meanwhile swartboy had not been idle. first with his knife he had cut a large section of bark from the elephant's tree, upon the side against which the animal had been in the habit of leaning, and about three feet from the ground. then with the axe he made a deep notch, where the bark had been removed--in fact, such a notch as would have caused the tree to fall had it been left to itself. but it was not, for before advancing so far in his work, swartboy had taken measures to prevent that. he had stayed the tree by fastening the rheim to its upper branches on the _opposite_ side, and then carrying the rope to the limbs of another tree that stood out in that direction. thus adjusted, the elephant's tree was only kept from falling by the rheim-stay; and a slight push, in the direction of the latter, would have thrown over. swartboy now replaced the section of bark, which he had preserved; and after carefully collecting the chips, no one, without close examination, could have told that the tree had ever felt the edge of an axe. another operation yet remained to be performed--that was the planting of the stakes, already prepared by von bloom and hendrik. to set these firmly deep holes had to be made. but swartboy was just the man to make a hole; and in less than ten minutes he had sunk three, each over a foot deep, and not a half-inch wider than the thickness of the stakes! you may be curious to know how he accomplished this. you would have dug a hole with a spade, and necessarily as wide as the spade itself. but swartboy had no spade, and would not have used it if there had been one--since it would have made the holes too large for his purpose. swartboy sunk his holes by "crowing"--which process he performed by means of a small pointed stick. with this he first loosened the earth in a circle of the proper size. he then took out the detached mould, flung it away, and used the point of the "crowing stick" as before. another clearing out of mould, another application of the stick; and so on, till the narrow hole was deemed of sufficient depth. that was how swartboy "crowed" the holes. they were sunk in a kind of triangle near the bottom of the tree, but on the side opposite to that where the elephant would stand, should he occupy his old ground. in each hole swartboy now set a stake, thick end down and point upwards; some small pebbles, and a little mould worked in at the sides, wedged them as firmly as if they had grown there. the stakes were now daubed over with soft earth, to conceal the white colour of the wood; the remaining chips were picked up, and all traces of the work completely obliterated. this done, the hunters withdraw from the spot. they did not go far; but choosing a large bushy tree to leeward, all three climbed up into it, and sat concealed among its branches. the field-cornet held his long "roer" in readiness, and so did hendrik his rifle. in case the ingenious trap of swartboy should fail, they intended to use their guns, but not otherwise. it was now quite noon, and the day had turned into one of the hottest. but for the shade afforded by the leaves, they would have felt it very distressing. swartboy prognosticated favourably from this. the great heat would be more likely than anything else to send the elephant to his favourite sleeping-place under the cool shady cover of the cameel-doorn. it was now quite noon. he could not be long in coming, thought they. sure enough he came, and soon, too. they had not been twenty minutes on their perch, when they heard a strange, rumbling noise, which they knew proceeded from the stomach of an elephant. the next moment they saw one emerge from the jungle, and walk, with sweeping step, straight up to the tree. he seemed to have no suspicion of any danger; but placed himself at once alongside the trunk of the acacia--in the very position and on the side swartboy had said he would take. from his spoor the bushman knew he had been in the habit of so standing. his head was turned from the hunters, but not so much as to prevent them from seeing a pair of splendid tusks,--six feet long at the least. while gazing in admiration at these rich trophies, they saw the animal point his proboscis upward, and discharge a vast shower of water into the leaves, which afterwards fell dripping in bright globules over his body! swartboy said that he drew the water from his stomach. although closet-naturalists deny this, it must have been so; for shortly after, he repeated the act again and again--the quantity of water at each discharge being as great as before. it was plain that his trunk, large as it was, could not have contained it all. he seemed to enjoy this "shower-bath;" and the hunters did not wonder at it, for they themselves, suffering at the time from heat and thirst, would have relished something of a similar kind. as the crystal drops fell back from the acacia leaves, the huge animal was heard to utter a low grunt expressive of gratification. the hunters hoped that this was the prelude to his sleep, and watched him with intense earnestness. it proved to be so. as they sat gazing, they noticed that his head sunk a little, his ears ceased their flapping, his tail hung motionless, and his trunk, now twined around his tusks, remained at rest. they gaze intently. now they see his body droop a little to one side-- now it touches the tree--there is heard a loud crack, followed by a confused crashing of branches--and the huge dark body of the elephant sinks upon its side. at the same instant a terrible scream drowns all other sounds, causing the forest to echo, and the very leaves to quake. then follows a confused roaring, mingled with the noise of cracking branches, and the struggles of the mighty brute where he lies kicking his giant limbs along the earth, in the agonies of death! the hunters remain in the tree. they see that the elephant is down-- that he is impaled. there will be no need for their puny weapons. their game has already received the death-wound. the struggle is of short duration. the painful breathing that precedes death is heard issuing from the long proboscis; and then follows a deep ominous silence. the hunters leap down, and approach the prostrate body. they see that it still lies upon the terrible _chevaux de frise_, where it had fallen. the stakes have done their work most effectively. the elephant breathes no more. he is dead! it was the work of an hour to cut out those splendid tusks. but our hunters thought nothing of that; and they were only the more pleased to find each of them a heavy load--as much as a man could carry! von bloom shouldered one, swartboy the other while hendrik loaded himself with the guns and implements; and all three, leaving the carcass of the dead elephant behind them, returned triumphantly to camp. chapter thirty seven. the wild-asses of africa. notwithstanding the success of the day's hunt the mind of von bloom was not at rest. they had "bagged" their game, it was true, but in what manner? their success was a mere accident, and gave them no earnest of what might be expected in the future. they might go long before finding another "sleeping-tree" of the elephants, and repeating their easy capture. such were the not very pleasant reflections of the field-cornet, on the evening after returning from their successful hunt. but still less pleasant were they, two weeks later, at the retrospect of many an unsuccessful chase from which they had returned--when, after twelve days spent in "jaging" the elephant, they had added only a single pair of tusks to the collection, and these the tusks of a cow-elephant, scarce two feet in length, and of little value! the reflection was not the less painful, that nearly every day they had fallen in with elephants, and had obtained a shot or two at these animals. that did not mend the matter a bit. on the contrary, it taught the hunter how easily they could run away from him, as they invariably did. it taught him how small his chances were of capturing such game, so long as he could only follow it _afoot_. the hunter on foot stands but a poor chance with the elephant. stalking in upon one is easy enough, and perhaps obtaining a single shot; but when the animal trots off through the thick jungle, it is tedious work following him. he may go miles before halting, and even if the hunter should overtake him, it may be only to deliver a second shot, and see the game once more disappear into the bushes--perhaps to be spoored no farther. now the mounted hunter has this advantage. his horse _can overtake_ the elephant; and it is a peculiarity of this animal, that the moment he finds that his enemy, whatever it be, _can_ do that thing, he disdains to run any farther, but at once stands to bay; and the hunter may then deliver as many shots as he pleases. herein lies the great advantage of the hunter on horseback. another advantage is the security the horse affords, enabling his rider to avoid the charges of the angry elephant. no wonder von bloom sighed for a horse. no wonder he felt grieved at the want of this noble companion, that would have aided him so much in the chase. he grieved all the more, now that he had become acquainted with the district, and had found it so _full_ of elephants. troops of an hundred had been seen; and these far from being shy, or disposed to make off after a shot or two. perhaps they had never heard the report of a gun before that of his own long roer pealed in their huge ears. _with_ a horse the field-cornet believed he could have killed many, and obtained much valuable ivory. _without_ one, his chances of carrying out his design were poor indeed. his hopes were likely to end in disappointment. he felt this keenly. the bright prospects he had so ardently indulged in, became clouded over; and fears for the future once more harassed him. he would only waste his time in this wilderness. his children would live without books, without education, without society. were he to be suddenly called away, what would become of them? his pretty gertrude would be no better off than a little savage--his sons would become not in sport, as he was wont to call them, but in reality a trio of "bush-boys." once more these thoughts filled the heart of the father with pain. oh! what would he not have given at that moment for a pair of horses, of any sort whatever? the field-cornet, while making these reflections, was seated in the great nwana-tree, upon the platform, that had been built on the side towards the lake, and from which a full view could be obtained of the water. from this point a fine view could also be obtained of the country which lay to the eastward of the lake. at some distance off it was wooded, but nearer the vley a grassy plain lay spread before the eye like a green meadow. the eyes of the hunter were turned outward on this plain, and just then his glance tell upon a troop of animals crossing the open ground, and advancing towards the vley. they were large animals--nearly of the shape and size of small horses-- and travelling in single file; as they were, the troop at a distance presented something of the appearance of a "cafila," or caravan. there were in all about fifty individuals in the line; and they marched along with a steady sober pace, as if under the guidance and direction of some wise leader. how very different from the capricious and eccentric movements of the gnoos! individually they bore some resemblance to these last-named animals. in the shape of their bodies and tails, in their general ground colour, and in the "brindled" or tiger-like stripes that could be perceived upon their cheeks, neck, and shoulders. these stripes were exactly of the same form as those upon a zebra; but far less distinct, and not extending to the body or limbs, as is the case with the true zebra. in general colour, and in some other respects, the animals reminded one of the ass; but their heads, necks, and the upper part of their bodies, were of darker hue, slightly tinged with reddish-brown. in fact, the new-comers had points of resemblance to all four--horse, ass, gnoo, and zebra--and yet they were distinct from any. to the zebra they bore the greatest resemblance--for they were in reality a species of zebra--they were _quaggas_. modern naturalists have divided the _equidae_, or horse family, into two genera--the _horse (equus_) and the _ass (asinus_)--the principal points of distinction being, that animals of the horse kind have long flowing manes, full tails, and warty callosities on both hind and fore limbs; while asses, on the contrary, have short, meagre, and upright manes, tails slender and furnished only with long hairs at the extremity, and their hind limbs wanting the callosities. these, however, are found on the fore-legs as upon horses. although there are many varieties of the horse genus--scores of them, widely differing from each other--they can all be easily recognised by these characteristic marks, from the "suffolk punch," the great london dray-horse, down to his diminutive little cousin the "shetland pony." the varieties of the ass are nearly as numerous, though this fact is not generally known. first, we have the common ass (_asinus vulgaris_), the type of the genus; and of this there are many breeds in different countries, some nearly as elegant and as highly prized as horses. next there is the "onagra," "koulan," or "wild-ass" (_asinus onager_), supposed to be the origin of the common kind. this is a native of asia, though it is also found in the north-eastern parts of africa. there is also the "dziggetai," or "great wild-ass" (_asinus hemionus_), of central and southern asia, and another smaller species the "ghur" (_asinus hamar_) found in persia. again, there is the "kiang" (_asinus kiang_) met with in ladakh, and the "yo-totze" (_asinus equulus_), an inhabitant of chinese tartary. all these are asiatic species, found in a wild state, and differing from one another in colour, size, form, and even in habits. many of them are of elegant form, and swift as the swiftest horses. in this little book we cannot afford room for a description of each, but must confine our remarks to what is more properly our subject--_the wild-asses of africa_. of these there are six or seven kinds--perhaps more. first, there is the "wild-ass" (_asinus onager_), which, as already stated, extends from asia into the north-eastern parts of africa, contiguous to the former continent. next there is the "koomrah," of which very little is known, except that it inhabits the forests of northern africa, and is solitary in its habits, unlike most of the other species. the koomrah has been described as a "wild horse," but, most probably, it belongs to the genus _asinus_. now there are four other species of "wild-asses" in africa--wild horses some call them--and a fifth reported by travellers, but as yet undetermined. these species bear such a resemblance to one another in their form, the peculiar markings of their bodies, size, and general habits, that they may be classed together under the title of the _zebra_ family. first, there is the true zebra (_equus zebra_), perhaps the most beautiful of all quadrupeds, and of which no description need be given. second, the "dauw," or "burchell's zebra," as it is more frequently called (_equus burchellii_). third, the "congo dauw" (_equus hippotigris_), closely resembling the dauw. fourth, the "quagga" (_equus quagga_); and fifth, the undetermined species known as the "white zebra" (_equus isabellinus_), so-called from its pale yellow, or isabella colour. these five species evidently have a close affinity with each other--all of them being more or less marked with the peculiar transversal bands or "stripes," which are the well-known characteristics of the zebra. even the quagga is so banded upon the head and upper parts of its body. the zebra proper is "striped" from the tip of the nose to its very hoofs, and the bands are of a uniform black, while the ground colour is nearly white, or white tinged with a pale yellow. the "dauws," on the other hand, are not banded upon the legs; the rays are not so dark or well defined, and the ground colour is not so pure or clean-looking. for the rest, all these three species are much alike; and it is more than probable that either "burchell's" or the "congo dauw", was the species to which the name of "zebra" was first applied; for that which is now called the "true zebra" inhabits those parts of africa where it was less likely to have been the first observed of that genus. at all events, the "congo dauw" is the "hippotigris," or tiger-horse, of the romans; and this we infer from its inhabiting a more northerly part of africa than the others, all of which belong to the southern half of that continent. the habitat of the zebra is said to extend as far north as abyssinia; but, perhaps, the "congo dauw," which certainly inhabits abyssinia, has been mistaken for the true zebra. of the four species in south africa, the zebra is a mountain animal, and dwells among the cliffs, while the dauw and quagga rove over the plains and wild karoo deserts. in similar situations to these has the "white zebra" been observed--though only by the traveller le vaillant--and hence the doubt about its existence as a distinct species. none of the kinds associate together, though each herds with other animals! the quagga keeps company with the gnoo, the "dauw" with the "brindled gnoo," while the tall ostrich stalks in the midst of the herds of both! there is much difference in the nature and disposition of the different species. the mountain zebra is very shy and wild; the dauw is almost untameable; while the quagga is of a timid docile nature, and may be trained to harness with as much facility as a horse. the reason why this has not been done, is simply because the farmers of south africa have horses in plenty, and do not stand in need of the quagga, either for saddle or harness. but though von bloom the _farmer_ had never thought of "breaking in" a quagga, von bloom the _hunter_ now did. chapter thirty eight. planning the capture of the quaggas. up to this time the field-cornet had scarce deigned to notice the quaggas. he knew what they were, and had often seen a drove of them-- perhaps the same one--approach the vley and drink. neither he nor any of his people had molested them, though they might have killed many. they knew that the yellow oily flesh of these animals was not fit for food, and is only eaten by the hungry natives--that their hides, although sometimes used for grain-sacks and other common purposes, are of very little value. for these reasons, they had suffered them to come and go quietly. they did not wish to waste powder and lead upon them; neither did they desire wantonly to destroy such harmless creatures. every evening, therefore, the quaggas had drunk at the vley and gone off again, without exciting the slightest interest. not so upon this occasion. a grand design now occupied the mind of von bloom. the troop of quaggas became suddenly invested with as much interest as if it had been a herd of elephants; and the field-cornet had started to his feet, and stood gazing upon them--his eyes sparkling with pleasure and admiration. he admired their prettily-striped heads, their plump well-turned bodies, their light elegant limbs; in short, he admired everything about them, size, colour, and proportions. never before had quaggas appeared so beautiful in the eyes of the vee-boor. but why this new-born admiration for the despised quaggas?--for despised they are by the cape farmer, who shoots them only to feed his hottentot servants. why had they so suddenly become such favourites with the field-cornet? that you will understand by knowing the reflections that were just then passing through his mind. they were as follows:-- might not a number of these animals be caught and broken in?--why not? might they not be trained to the saddle?--why not? might they not serve him for hunting the elephant just as well as horses?--why not? von bloom asked these three questions of himself. half a minute served to answer them all in the affirmative. there was neither impossibility nor improbability in any of the three propositions. it was clear that the thing could be done, and without difficulty. a new hope sprang up in the heart of the field-cornet. once more his countenance became radiant with joy. he communicated his thoughts both to the bushman and "bush-boys"--all of whom highly approved of the idea, and only wondered that none of them had thought of it before. and now the question arose, as to how the quaggas were to be captured. this was the first point to be settled; and the four,--von bloom himself, hans, hendrik, and swartboy,--sat deliberately down to concoct some plan of effecting this object. of course they could do nothing just then, and the drove that had come to drink was allowed to depart peacefully. the hunters knew they would return on the morrow about the same hour; and it was towards their return that the thought of all were bent. hendrik advised "creasing," which means sending a bullet through the upper part of the neck near the withers, and by this means a quagga can be knocked over and captured. the shot, if properly directed, does not kill the animal. it soon recovers, and may be easily "broken," though its spirit is generally broken at the same time. it is never "itself again." hendrik understood the mode of "creasing." he had seen it practised by the boor-hunters. he knew the spot where the bullet should hit. he believed he could do it easily enough. hans considered the "creasing" too cruel a mode. they might kill many quaggas before obtaining one that was hit in the proper place. besides there would be a waste of powder and bullets--a thing to be considered. why could they not snare the animals? he had heard of nooses being set for animals as large as the quaggas, and of many being caught in that manner. hendrik did not think the idea of snaring a good one. they might get one in that way--the foremost of the drove; but all the others, seeing the leader caught, would gallop off and return no more to the vley; and where would they set their snare for a second? it might be a long time before they should find another watering-place of these animals; whereas they might stalk and crease them upon the plains at any time. swartboy now put in his plan. it was the _pit-fall_. that was the way by which bushmen most generally caught large animals, and swartboy perfectly understood how to construct a pit for quaggas. hendrik saw objections to this, very similar to those he had urged against the snare. the foremost of the quaggas might be caught, but the others would not be fools enough to walk into the pit--after their leader had fallen in and laid the trap open. they of course would gallop off, and never come back that way again. if it could be done at night, hendrik admitted, the thing might be different. in the darkness several might rush in before catching the alarm. but no--the quaggas had always come to drink in day-time--one only could be trapped, and then the others alarmed would keep away. there would have been reason in what hendrik said, but for a remarkable fact which the field-cornet himself had observed when the quaggas came to the lake to drink. it was, that the animals had invariably entered the water at one point, and gone out at another. it was of course a mere accident that they did so, and owing to the nature of the ground; but such was the case, and von bloom had observed it on several occasions. they were accustomed to enter by the gorge, already described; and, after drinking, wade along the shallow edge for some yards, and then pass out by another break in the bank. the knowledge of this fact was of the utmost importance, and all saw that at once. a pit-fall dug upon the path by which the animals entered the lake, would no doubt operate as hendrik said--one might be caught, and all the rest frightened off. but a similar trap placed upon the trail that led outward, would bring about a very different result. once the quaggas had finished drinking, and just at the moment they were heading out of the water, the hunters could show themselves upon the opposite side, set the troop in quick motion, and _gallop them into the trap_. by this means not only one, but a whole pit-full might be captured at once! all this appeared so feasible that not another suggestion was offered-- the plan of the _pit-fall_ was at once, and unanimously adopted. it remained only to dig the pit, cover it properly, and then wait the result. during all the time their capture was being planned, the herd of quaggas had remained in sight, disporting themselves upon the open plain. it was a tantalising sight to hendrik, who would have liked much to have shown his marksman skill by "creasing" one. but the young hunter saw that it would be imprudent to fire at them there, as it would prevent them from returning to the vley; so he restrained himself, and along with the others remained watching the quaggas--all regarding them with a degree of interest which they had never before felt in looking at a drove of these animals. the quaggas saw nothing of them, although quite near to the great nwana-tree. they--the hunters--were up among the branches, where the animals did not think of looking, and there was nothing around the bottom of the tree to cause them alarm. the wagon-wheels had long ago been disposed of in the bush, partly to shelter them from the sun, and partly because game animals frequently came within shot of the tree, and were thus obtained without any trouble. there were scarce any traces upon the ground that would have betrayed the existence of a "camp" in the tree; and a person might have passed very near without noticing the odd aerial dwelling of the hunter family. all this was design upon the part of the field-cornet. as yet he knew little of the country around. he did not know but that it might contain worse enemies than either hyenas or lions. while they sat watching the manoeuvres of the quaggas, a movement was made by one of these creatures more singular than any that had yet been witnessed. the animal in question was browsing quietly along, and at length approached a small clump of bushes that stood out in the open ground. when close to the copse it was observed to make a sudden spring forward; and almost at the same instant, a shaggy creature leaped out of the bushes, and ran off. this last was no other than the ugly "striped" hyena. instead of turning upon the quagga and showing fight, as one might have supposed so strong and fierce a brute would have done, the hyena uttered a howl of alarm, and ran off as fast as its legs would carry it. they did not carry it far. it was evidently making for a larger tract of bush that grew near: but before it had got half-way across the open ground, the quagga came up behind, and uttering his shrill "couaag," reared forward, and dropped with his fore-hoofs upon the hyena's back. at the same instant the neck of the carnivorous animal was clutched by the teeth of the ruminant and held as fast, as if grasped by a vice. all looked to see the hyena free itself and run off again. they looked in vain. it never ran another yard. it never came alive out of the clutch of those terrible teeth. the quagga still held his struggling victim with firm hold--trampling it with his hoofs, and shaking it in his strong jaws, until in a few minutes the screams of the hyena ceased, and his mangled carcass lay motionless upon the plain! one would think that this incident might have been enough to warn our hunters to be cautious in their dealings with the quagga. such a sharp biter would be no pleasant horse to "bit and bridle." but all knew the antipathy that exists between the wild horse and the hyena; and that the quagga, though roused to fury at the sight of one of these animals, is very different in its behaviour towards man. so strong, in fact, is this antipathy, and so complete is the mastery of the ruminant over the carnivorous animal, that the frontier farmers often take advantage of these peculiar facts, and keep the hyenas from their cattle by bringing up with the herd a number of quaggas, who act as its guards and protectors. chapter thirty nine. the pit-trap. while they were watching the movements of the quaggas, von bloom rose suddenly to his feet. all turned their eyes upon him as he did so. they saw by his manner that he was about to propose something. what could it be? the thought had just occurred to him that they should at once set about digging the pit. it was near sunset--wanting only half-an-hour of it; and one would suppose he would have done better to leave the work till next morning. but no. there was a good reason why they should set about it at once; and that was, that they might not be able to complete it in time if they did not do part of it that night. it would be no slight undertaking to dig a pit of proper size, for they would require one that would at least hold half-a-dozen quaggas at a time. then there was the carrying away the earth that should come out of it, the cutting the poles and branches to cover it, and the placing of these in a proper manner. to do all these things would take up a great deal of time; and they must be all done against the return of the quaggas, else the whole scheme would be a failure. should the animals arrive upon the ground before the pit was covered in and all traces of the work removed, they would make off without entering the water, and perhaps never visit that vley again. such were the conjectures of the field-cornet. hans, hendrik, and swartboy, acknowledged their justice. all saw the necessity of going to work at once, and to work they all went. fortunately among the "implements," were two good spades, a shovel, and a pick-axe, and all of them could be busy at the same time. there were baskets in which the dirt could be sanded off, and thrown into the deep channel close by, where it would not be seen. this was also a fortunate circumstance; for to have carried the stuff any great distance, would have made the job still heavier, and more difficult to execute in proper time. having marked the outlines of the pit, they went to work with spade, shovel, and pick. the ground proved tolerably loose, and the pick was but little needed. the field-cornet himself handled one of the spades, hendrik the other, while swartboy acted as shoveller, and filled the baskets as fast as hans and totty, assisted by truey and little jan, could empty them. these last carried a small basket of their own, and contributed very materially to the progress of the work, by lightening the labours of hans and totty. and so the work went merrily on until midnight, and even after that hour, under the light of a full moon; by which time the diggers were buried to their necks. but they were now fatigued. they knew they could easily complete the pit next day; and so they laid down their implements, and after performing their ablutions in the crystal water of the stream, retired to their sleeping-quarters in the tree. by early dawn they were at it again, busy as bees; and the pit progressed so rapidly that before they stopped to take breakfast von bloom could scarce see out of it standing on his toes, and the crown of swartboy's woolly head was nearly two feet below the surface. a little more digging would do. after breakfast they went to work at briskly as ever; and laboured away until they considered that the hole was sunk to a sufficient depth. it would have taken a springbok to have leaped out of it; and no quagga could possibly have cleared itself from such a pit. poles and bushes were now cut; and the pit was neatly covered with these, and strewed over, as well as a large tract of the adjoining ground, with rushes and grass. the most sagacious animal would have been deceived by the appearance; even a fox could not have discovered the tray before tumbling into it. they had completed the work before going to dinner,--which, consequently, fell late on that day--so nothing more remained to be done but to dine, and await the coming of the quaggas. at dinner they were all very merry, notwithstanding the immense fatigue they had gone through. the prospect of capturing the quaggas was very exciting, and kept the party in high spirits. each offered a prognostication as to the result. some said they would trap three quaggas at the least; while others were more sanguine, and believed they might take twice that number. jan did not see why the pit should not be full; and hendrik thought this probable enough-- considering the way they intended to drive the quaggas into it. it certainly seemed so. the pit had been made of sufficient width to preclude the possibility of the animals leaping over it, while it was dug lengthwise across the path, so that they could not miss it. the lay of the ground would guide them directly into it. it is true that, were they to be left to themselves, and permitted to follow their usual method of marching--that is, in single file--only one, the leader, might be caught. the rest, seeing him fall in, would be sure to wheel round, and gallop off in a different direction. but it was not the intention of the hunters to leave things thus. they had planned a way by which the quaggas, at a certain moment, would be thrown into a complete panic, and thus forced pell-mell upon the pit. in this lay their hopes of securing a large number of the animals. four was as many as were wanted. one for each of the hunters. four would do; but of course it mattered not how many more got into the pit. the more the better, as a large number would give them the advantage of "pick and choose." dinner over, the hunters set about preparing for the reception of their expected visitors. as already stated, the dinner had been later than usual; and it was now near the hour when the quaggas might be looked for. in order to be in time, each took his station. hans, hendrik, and swartboy, placed themselves in ambush around the lake--at intervals from one another; but the lower end, where the animals usually approached and went out, was left quite open. von bloom remained on the platform in the tree, so as to mark the approach of the quaggas, and give warning by a signal to the other three. the positions taken by these were such, that they could guide the herd in the direction of the pit by merely coming out of the bushes where they lay concealed. in order that they should show themselves simultaneously, and at the proper moment, they were to wait for a signal from the tree. this was to be the firing of the great "roer," loaded blank. hans and hendrik were also to fire blank shots on discovering themselves, and by this means the desired panic would be produced. the whole scheme was well contrived, and succeeded admirably. the herd appeared filing over the plain, just as on the preceding days. von bloom announced their approach to the three in ambush, by repeating in a subdued tone the words,-- "quaggas are coming!" the unsuspecting animals filed through the gorge, scattered about in the water, drank their fill, and then commenced retiring by the path on which lay the trap. the leader having climbed the bank, and seeing the fresh grass and rushes strewed upon the path, uttered a snorting bark, and seemed half inclined to wheel round. but just at that moment boomed the loud detonation of the roer; and, then, like lesser echoes, the reports of the smaller guns on the right and left, while swartboy shouted at the top pitch of his voice, from another quarter. a look back showed the quaggas that they were well-nigh surrounded by strange enemies. but one course appeared open to them--the way they were wont to go; and barking with affright, the whole drove dashed up the bank, and crowded on towards the pit. then was heard a confused noise--the cracking of the poles--the trampling of many hoofs--the dull sounds of heavy bodies falling together, and mingling in a continuous struggle--and the wild snorting, as the creatures hurried forward in affright. some were seen springing high in the air, as if to overleap the pit. others poised themselves on their hind hoofs, and wheeling round, ran back into the lake. some dashed off through the bushes, and escaped in that way; but the great body of the drove came running back, and plunging through the water, made off by the gorge through which they had come. in a few minutes not one was in sight. the boys thought they had all escaped; but von bloom, from his more elevated position in the tree, could perceive the snouts of several protruding above the edge of the pit. on arriving at the spot, to their great satisfaction the hunters discovered no less than eight full-grown quaggas in the trap--just twice the number required to mount the party. in less than two weeks from that time, four of the quaggas were broken to the saddle, and perfectly obedient to the bit. of course there was a good deal of kicking, and plunging, and flinging, and many hard gallops, and some ugly falls, before it came to this; but both the bushman swartboy and the bush-boy hendrik were expert in the _manege_ of horses, and soon tamed the quaggas to a proper degree of docility. upon the very first occasion when these animals were used in the hunt of the elephant, they rendered the very service expected of them. the elephant, as usual, bolted after receiving the first shot; but the hunters on "quagga-back" were enabled to keep him in sight, and follow rapidly upon his heels. as soon as the elephant discovered that, run as he would, his pursuers had the power of overtaking him, he disdained to fly farther, and stood to bay; thus giving them the opportunity of delivering shot after shot, until a mortal wound brought his huge body to the earth. von bloom was delighted. his hopes were high, his benignant star was once more in the ascendant. he would yet accomplish his design. he would yet be rich. a few years would enable him to build up his fortune--to construct a pyramid of ivory! chapter forty. driving in the eland. of all the family hendrik was the hunter _par excellence_. it was he who habitually stored the larder; and upon days when they were not engaged in the chase of the elephant, hendrik would be abroad alone in pursuit of antelopes, and other creatures, that furnished their usual subsistence. hendrik kept the table well supplied. antelopes are the principal game of south africa--for africa is the country of the antelope above all others. you may be surprised to hear that there are _seventy different species of antelopes_ over all the earth--that more than fifty of these are african, and that thirty at least belong to south africa--that is, the portion of the continent lying between the cape of good hope and the tropic of capricorn. it would require the space of a whole book, therefore, to give a fair account--a monograph--of the antelopes alone; and i cannot afford that space here. at present i can only say that africa is the great antelope country, although many fine species exist also in asia--that in america there is but one kind, the _prong-horn_, with which you are already well acquainted--and that in europe there are two, though one of these, the well-known "chamois," is as much goat as antelope. i shall farther remark, that the seventy species of animals, by naturalists classed as antelopes, differ widely from one another in form, size, colour, pelage, habits; in short, in so many respects, that their classification under the name of _antelope_ is very arbitrary indeed. some approximate closely to the goat tribe; others are more like deer; some resemble oxen; others are closely allied to the buffalo; while a few species possess many of the characteristics of wild sheep! as a general thing, however, they are more like to deer than any other animals; and many species of them are, in common parlance, called deer. indeed, many antelopes are more like to certain species of deer than to others of their own kind. the chief distinction noted between them and the deer is, that the antelopes have _horny_ horns, that are persistent or permanent, while those of the deer are osseous or _bony_, and are annually cast. like the deer the different species of antelopes possess very different habits. some frequent the wide open plains; some the deep forest; some wander by the shady banks of streams; while others love to dwell upon the rocky steep, or the dry ravines of the mountains. some browse upon the grass; while others, goat-like, prefer the leaves and tender twigs of trees. in fact, so different are these creatures in habits, that whatever be the natural character of a district of country, it will be found the favourite home of one or more species. even the very desert has its antelopes, that prefer the parched and waterless plain to the most fertile and verdant valley. of all antelopes the "eland," or "caana" (_antelope oreas_) is the largest. it measures full seventeen hands at the shoulder--being thus equal in height to a very large horse. a large eland weighs one thousand pounds. it is a heavily formed animal, and an indifferent runner, as a mounted hunter can gallop up to one without effort. its general proportions are not unlike those of a common ox, but its horns are straight and rise vertically from the crown, diverging only slightly from one another. these are two feet in length, and marked by a ridge that passes spirally around them nearly to the tips. the horns of the female are longer than those of the male. the eyes of the eland, like those of most antelopes, are large, bright, and melting, without any expression of fierceness; and the animal, though so very large and strong, is of the most innocuous disposition-- showing fight only when driven to desperation. the general colour of this antelope is dun, with a rufous tinge. sometimes ashy grey touched with ochre is the prevailing hue. the eland is one of those antelopes that appear to be independent of water. it is met with upon the desert plains, far from either spring or stream; and it even seems to prefer such situations--perhaps from the greater security it finds there--though it is also a denizen of the fertile and wooded districts. it is gregarious, the sexes herding separately, and in groups of from ten to a hundred individuals. the flesh of the eland is highly esteemed, and does not yield in delicacy to that of any of the antelope, deer, or bovine tribes. it has been compared to tender beef with a _game flavour_; and the muscles of the thighs when cured and dried produce a _bonne bouche_, known under the odd appellation of "thigh-tongues." of course the eland affording such excellent meat, and in so large a quantity, is zealously hunted for his spoils. being only a poor runner and always very fat, the hunt is usually a short one; and ends in the eland being shot down, skinned, and cut up. there is no great excitement about this chase, except that it is not every day an eland can be started. the ease with which they can be captured, as well as the value of their venison, has led to the thinning off of these antelopes; and it is only in remote districts where a herd of them can be found. now since their arrival, no elands had been seen, though now and then their spoor was observed; and hendrik, for several reasons, was very desirous of getting one. he had never shot an eland in his life--that was one reason--and another was, that he wished to procure a supply of the fine venison which lies in such quantities over the ribs of these animals. it was, therefore, with great delight, that hendrik one morning received the report that a herd of elands had been seen upon the upper plain, and not far off. swartboy, who had been upon the cliffs, brought this report to camp. without losing any more time than sufficed to get the direction from swartboy, hendrik mounted his quagga, shouldered his rifle, and rode off in search of the herd. not far from the camp there was an easy pass, leading up the cliff to the plain above. it was a sort of gorge or ravine; and from the numerous tracks of animals in its bottom, it was evidently much used as a road from the upper plain to that in which were the spring and stream. certain animals, such as the zebras and quaggas, and others that frequent the dry desert plains from preference, were in the habit of coming by this path when they required water. up the gorge rode hendrik; and no sooner had he arrived at its top, than he discovered the herd of elands--seven old bulls--about a mile off upon the upper plain. there was not cover enough to have sheltered a fox. the only growth near the spot where the elands were, consisted of straggling aloe-plants, euphorbias, with some stunted bushes, and tufts of dry grass, characteristic of the desert. there was no clump large enough to have sheltered a hunter from the eye of his game; and hendrik at once came to the conclusion, that the elands could not be "stalked" in the situation they then occupied. now, though hendrik had never hunted this antelope, he was well acquainted with its habits, and knew how it ought to be chased. he knew that it was a bad runner; that any old horse could bring up with it; and that his quagga--the fastest of the four that had been tamed--could do the same. it was only a question of "start," therefore. could he get near enough the bulls to have a fair start, he would run one of them down to a certainty. the result might be different should the elands take the alarm at a long distance off, and scour away over the plain. to get within fair starting distance, that was the point to be attempted. but hendrik was a wary hunter, and soon accomplished this. instead of riding direct for the elands, he made a grand circuit--until he had got the herd between him and the cliff--and then, heading his quagga for them, he rode quietly forward. he did not sit erect in the saddle, but held himself bent down, until his breast almost touched the withers of the quagga. this he did to deceive the elands, who would otherwise have recognised him as an enemy. in such a fashion they could not make out what kind of creature was coming towards them; but stood for a long while gazing at hendrik and his quagga with feelings of curiosity, and of course some little alarm. they, however, permitted the hunter to get within five hundred yards distance--near enough for him--before they broke off in their heavy lumbering gallop. hendrik now rose in his saddle, put spurs to his quagga, and followed the herd at full speed. as he had designed, so it came to pass. the elands ran straight in the direction of the cliff--not where the pass was, but where there was none--and, on reaching the precipice, were of course forced to turn into a new direction, transverse to their former one. this gave hendrik the advantage, who, heading his quagga diagonally, was soon upon the heels of the herd. it was hendrik's intention to single out one of the bulls, and run him down--leaving the others to gallop off wherever they wished. his intention was carried out; for shortly after, the fattest of the bulls shot to one side, as if to escape in that way, while the rest ran on. the bull was not so cunning as he thought himself. hendrik's eye was upon him; and in a moment the quagga was turned upon his track. another burst carried both game and pursuer nearly a mile across the plain. the eland had turned from a rufous dun colour to that of a leaden blue; the saliva fell from his lips in long streamers, foam dappled his broad chest, the tears rolled out of his big eyes, and his gallop became changed to a weary trot. he was evidently "blown." in a few minutes more the quagga was close upon his heels; and then the huge antelope, seeing that farther running could not serve him, halted in despair, and faced round towards his pursuer. now hendrik had his loaded rifle in his hand, and you expect to hear that he instantly raised it to his shoulder, took aim, fired, and brought down the eland. i must disappoint you, then, by telling you that he did no such thing. hendrik was a real hunter--neither rash nor wasteful of his resources. he knew a better plan than to kill the eland upon the spot. he knew that the animal was now quite in his power; and that he could drive him wherever he pleased, just like a tame ox. to have killed the creature on the spot would have been a waste of powder and shot. more than that, it would have rendered necessary all the trouble of transporting its flesh to camp--a double journey at least--and with the risk of the hyenas eating up most of it in his absence. whereas he could save all this trouble by _driving the eland to camp_; and this was his design. without firing a shot, therefore, he galloped on past the blown bull, headed him, turned him round, and then drove him before him in the direction of the cliff. the bull could make neither resistance nor opposition. now and again, he would turn and trot off in a contrary direction; but he was easily headed again, and at length forced forward to the top of the pass. chapter forty one. a wild ride on quagga-back. hendrik was congratulating himself on his success. he anticipated some pleasure in the surprise he was about to create at camp, when he should march in with the eland--for he had no doubt that he would succeed in doing so. indeed, there appeared no reason to doubt it. the bull had already entered the gorge, and was moving down it, while hendrik and his quagga were hurrying forward to follow. the hunter had arrived within a few yards of the top, when a loud trampling noise sounded in his ears, as if a band of heavy-footed animals were coming up the gorge. he spurred his quagga forward, in order to reach the edge, and get a view down the ravine. before he was able to do so, he was surprised to see the eland gallop up again, and try to pass him upon the plain. it had evidently received fresh alarm, from something in the gorge; and preferred facing its old enemy to encountering the new. hendrik did not give his attention to the eland. he could ride it down at any time. he was more anxious first to know what had given it the start backward; so he continued to press forward to the head of the ravine. he might have thought of lions, and acted with greater prudence; but the trampling of hoofs which still echoed up the pass told him that lions were not the cause of the eland's alarm. he at length reached a point where he could see down the declivity. he had not far to look--for already the animals that were making the noise were close up to him; and he perceived they were nothing more than a troop of quaggas. he was not over-pleased at this interruption to his drive; and the less did he like it, that the intruders were quaggas--ill-conditioned brutes that they were! had they been game animals, he would have shot one; but the only motive that would have induced him to shoot one of the quaggas would have been a feeling of anger--for, at that moment, he was really angry at them. without knowing it, poor brutes! they had likely given him cause for a good deal of trouble; for it would cost him a good deal, before he could head the eland again, and get it back into the pass. no wonder, then, he was vexed a little. but his vexation was not so grievous as to cause him to fire upon the approaching herd; and, turning aside, he rode after the eland. he had hardly left the spot, when the quaggas came out of the pass, following each other to the number of forty or fifty. each, as he saw the mounted hunter, started with affright, and bolted off, until the whole drove stretched out in a long line over the plain, snorting and uttering their loud "coua-a-g" as they ran. hendrik would hardly have regarded this movement under ordinary circumstances. he had often seen herds of quaggas, and was in no way curious about them. but his attention was drawn to this herd, from his noticing, as they passed him, that four of them had their tails docked short; and from this circumstance, he recognised them as the four that had been caught in the pit-trap and afterwards set free. swartboy, for some purpose of his own, had cut off the hair before letting them go. hendrik had no doubt it was they, and that the herd was the same that used to frequent the vley, but that on account of the ill-treatment they had met with, had never since shown themselves in the neighbourhood. now these circumstances coming into hendrik's mind at the moment, led him to regard the quaggas with a certain feeling of curiosity. the sudden fright which the animals took on seeing him, and the comic appearance of the four with the stumped tails, rather inclined hendrik towards merriment, and he laughed as he galloped along. as the quaggas went off in the same direction which the eland had taken, of course hendrik's road and theirs lay so far together; and on galloped he at their heels. he was curious to try the point--much disputed in regard to horses--how far a mounted quagga would be able to cope with an unmounted one. he was curious, moreover, to find out whether his own quagga was quite equal to any of its old companions. so on swept the chase--the eland leading, the quaggas after, and hendrik bringing up the rear. hendrik had no need to ply the spur. his gallant steed flew like the wind. he seemed to feel that his character was staked upon the race. he gained upon the drove at every spring. the heavy-going eland was soon overtaken, and as it trotted to one side, was passed. it halted, but the quaggas kept on. not only the drove kept on, but hendrik's quagga following close at their heels; and in less than five minutes they had left the eland a full mile in their rear, and were still scouring onward over the wide plain. what was hendrik about? was he going to forsake the eland, and let it escape? had he grown so interested in the race? was he jealous about his quagga's speed, and determined it should beat all the others? so it would have appeared to any one witnessing the race from a distance. but one who could have had a nearer view of it, would have given a different explanation of hendrik's conduct. the fact was, that as soon as the eland halted hendrik intended to halt also; and for that purpose pulled strongly upon his bridle. but, to his astonishment, he found that his quagga did not share his intention. instead of obeying the bit, the animal caught the steel in his teeth, and laying his ears back, galloped straight on! hendrik then endeavoured to turn the quagga to one side, and for this purpose wrenched his right rein; but with such fierceness, that the old bit-ring gave way--the bit slipped through the animal's jaws--the head-stall came off with the jerk--and the quagga was completely unbridled! of course the animal was now free to go just as he liked; and it was plain that he liked to go with his old comrades. his old comrades he well knew them to be, as his snorting and occasional neigh of recognition testified. at first hendrik was disposed to look upon the breaking of his bit as only a slight misfortune. for a boy he was one of the best riders in south africa, and needed no rein to steady him. he could keep his seat without one. the quagga would soon stop, and he could then repair the bit, and re-adjust the bridle which he still held in his hands. such were his reflections at first. but their spirit began to alter, when he found that the quagga, instead of lessening his pace kept on as hard as ever, and the herd still ran wildly before him without showing the slightest signs of coming to a halt. in fact, the quaggas were running through fear. they saw the mounted hunter behind them in hot pursuit; and although their old comrade knew who _they_ were, how were they to tell what _he_ was, with such a tall hunch upon his back? no quagga he, but some terrible monster, they imagined, thirsting for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of them! no wonder they showed their heels in the best style they knew how; and so well did they show them, that hendrik's quagga--notwithstanding his keen desire to get forward among them, and explain away the awkward business upon his back--was not able to come an inch closer. he did not lose ground, however. his eagerness to regain his old associates--to partake once more of their wild freedom--for he was desperately tired of civilised society, and sick of elephant-hunting-- all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment, and nerved him to the utmost exertion. could he only get up into the body of the crowd-- for the herd now ran in a crowd--a few whimpers would suffice to explain--they would come to a halt at once,--they would gather around him, and assist both with hoofs and teeth to get "shed" of the ugly two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal vertebras. it was "no go," however. although he was so close to their heels, that they flung dust in his face, and small pebbles in the face of his rider, to the no slight inconvenience of the latter; although he "whighered" whenever he could spare breath, and uttered his "couag,--couag!" in reality calling them by name, it was "no go." "they would not stay. they would not hear." and what did hendrik during all this time? nothing--he could do nothing. he could not stay the impetuous flight of his steed. he dared not dismount. he would have been hurled among sharp rocks, had he attempted such a thing. his neck would have been broken. he could do nothing--nothing but keep his seat. what thought he? at first, not much. at first he regarded the adventure lightly. when he was about completing his third mile, he began to deem it more serious; and as he entered upon the fifth, he became convinced that he was neither more nor less than in a very awkward scrape. but the fifth mile was left behind, and then a sixth, and a seventh; and still the quaggas galloped wildly on--the drove actuated by the fear of losing their liberty, and their old comrade by the desire of regaining his. hendrik now felt real uneasiness. where were they going? where was the brute carrying him? perhaps off to the desert, where he might be lost and perish of hunger or thirst! already he was many miles from the cliffs, and he could no longer tell their direction. even had he halted then and there, he could not tell which way to turn himself. he would be lost! he grew more than anxious. he became frightened in earnest. what was he to do? leap down, and risk his neck in the fall? he would lose his quagga and his saddle as well--he regarded the eland as already lost--he would have to walk back to camp, and get laughed at on his return. no matter for all that; his life was in danger if he kept on. the quaggas might gallop twenty,--ay, fifty miles before halting. they showed no symptoms of being blown--no signs of giving out. he must fling himself to the ground, and let quagga and saddle go. he had formed this resolution, and was actually about to put it in practice. he was just considering how he might best escape an ugly fall--looking for a soft spot--when, all at once, a grand idea rushed into his mind. he remembered that in taming this same quagga and breaking him to the saddle, he had been vastly aided by a very simple contrivance--that was a "blind." the blind was nothing more than a piece of soft leather tied over the animal's eyes; but so complete had been its effect, that it had transformed the quagga at once from a kicking screaming creature into a docile animal. hendrik now thought of the blind. true, he had none. was there nothing about him that would serve as one? his handkerchief? no, it would be too thin. hurrah! his jacket would do! his rifle was in the way. it must be got rid of. it must be dropped to the ground, he could return for it. it was let down as gently as possible, and soon left far behind. in a twinkling hendrik stripped off his jacket. how was it to be arranged so as to blind the quagga? it would not do to drop it. a moment's consideration served the ready boy to mature his plan. after a moment he bent down, passed a sleeve upon each side under the quagga's throat, and then knotted them together. the jacket thus rested over the animal's mane, with the collar near its withers, and the peak or skirt upon the small of its neck. hendrik next leaned as far forward as he could, and with his extended arms pushed the jacket up the animal's neck, until the skirt passed over its ears, and fell down in front of its face. it was with some difficulty that the rider, bent down as he was, could retain his seat; for as soon as the thick flap of cloth came down over the eyes of the quagga, the latter halted as if he had been shot dead in his tracks. he did not fall, however, but only stood still, quivering with terror. his gallop was at an end! hendrik leaded to the ground. he was no longer afraid that the quagga, blinded as he now was, would make any attempt to get off; nor did he. in a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced by a strong rheim of raw leather; the bit inserted between the quagga's teeth, the head-stall safely buckled, and hendrik once more in the saddle, with his jacket upon his back. the quagga felt that he was conquered. his old associates were no longer in sight to tempt him from his allegiance; and with these considerations, aided by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned his head, and moved sullenly upon the back-track. hendrik knew nothing about the route he should take. he followed back the spoor of the quaggas to the place where he had dropped his gun, which after riding a mile or two he recovered. as there was no sun in the sky, nor other object to guide him, he thought he could not do better than trace back the spoor; and although it led him by many a devious route, and he saw nothing more of his eland, before night he reached the pass in the cliff, and was soon after sitting under the shadow of the nwana-tree, regaling a most interested audience with the narrative of his day's adventures. chapter forty two. the gun-trap. it was about this time that the field-cornet and his people were very much annoyed by beasts of prey. the savoury smell which their camp daily sent forth, as well as the remains of antelopes, killed for their venison, attracted these visitors. hyenas and jackals were constantly skulking in the neighbourhood, and at night came around the great nwana-tree in scores, keeping up their horrid chorus for hours together. it is true that nobody feared these animals, as the children at night were safe in their aerial home, where the hyenas could not get at them. but for all that, the presence of the brutes was very offensive, as not a bit of meat--not a hide, nor rheim, nor any article of leather--could be left below without their getting their teeth upon it, and chewing it up. quarters of venison they had frequently stolen, and they had eaten up the leathern part of swartboy's saddle, and rendered it quite useless for a while. in short, so great a pest had the hyenas grown to be, that it became necessary to adopt some mode of destroying them. it was not easy to get a shot at them. during the day they were wary, and either hid themselves in caves of the cliff or in the burrows of the ant-eater. at night they were bold enough, and came into the very camp; but then the darkness hindered a good aim, and the hunters knew too well the value of powder and lead to waste it on a chance shot, though now and then, when provoked by the brutes, they ventured one. but some way must be thought of to thin the numbers of these animals, or get rid of them altogether. this was the opinion of everybody. two or three kinds of traps were tried, but without much success. a pit they could leap out of, and from a noose they could free themselves by cutting the rope with their sharp teeth! at length the field-cornet resorted to a plan--much practised by the boors of southern africa for ridding their farms of these and similar vermin. it was the "gun-trap." now there are several ways of constructing a gun-trap. of course a gun is the principal part of the mechanism, and the trigger pulled by a string is the main point of the contrivance. in some countries the bait is tied to the string, and the animal on seizing the bait tightens the string, draws the trigger, and shoots itself. in this way, however, there is always some uncertainty as to the result. the animal may not place its body in the proper position with regard to the muzzle, and may either escape the shot altogether, or may be only "creased," and of course get off. the mode of setting the "gun-trap" in south africa is a superior plan; and the creature that is so unfortunate as to draw the trigger rarely escapes, but is either killed upon the spot, or so badly wounded as to prevent its getting away. von bloom constructed his trap after the approved fashion, as follows:-- near the camp he selected a spot where three saplings or young trees grew, standing in a line, and about a yard between each two of them. had he not found three trees so disposed, stakes firmly driven into the ground would have answered his purpose equally well. thorn-bushes were now cut, and a kraal built in the usual manner--that is, with the tops of the bushes turned outwards. the size of the kraal was a matter of no consequence; and, of course, to save labour, a small one was constructed. one point, however, was observed in making the kraal. its door or opening was placed so that two of the three saplings stood like posts, one on each side of it; and an animal going into the enclosure must needs pass between these two trees. now for the part the gun had to play. the weapon was placed in a horizontal position against two of the saplings,--that is, the stock against the one outside the kraal, and the barrel against one of the door-posts, and there firmly lashed. in this position the muzzle was close to the edge of the entrance, and pointing directly to the sapling on the opposite side. it was at such a height as to have ranged with the heart of a hyena standing in the opening. the next move was to adjust the string. already a piece of stick, several inches in length, had been fixed to the small of the stock, and, of course, _behind_ the trigger. this was fastened transversely, but not so as to preclude all motion. a certain looseness in its adjustment gave it the freedom required to be worked as a lever--for that was its design. to each end of this little stick was fastened a string. one of these strings was attached to the trigger; the other, after being carried through the thimbles of the ramrod, traversed across the entrance of the kraal, and was knotted upon the opposite side to the sapling that stood there. this string followed the horizontal direction of the barrel, and was just "taut;" so that any farther strain upon it would act upon the little lever, and by that means pull the trigger; and then of course "bang" would go the roer. when this string was adjusted, and the gun loaded and cocked, the trap was set. nothing remained to be done but bait it. this was not a difficult task. it consisted simply in placing a piece of meat or carcass within the enclosure, and these leaving it to attract the prowling beasts to the spot. when the gun had been set, swartboy carried up the bait--the offal of an antelope killed that day--and flung it into the kraal; and then the party went quietly to their beds, without thinking more of the matter. they had not slept a wink, however, before they were startled by the loud "crack" of the roer, followed by a short stifled cry that told them the gun-trap had done its work. a torch was procured, and the four hunters proceeded to the spot. there they found the dead body of a huge "tiger-wolf" lying doubled up in the entrance, and right under the muzzle of the gun. he had not gone a step after receiving the shot--in fact, had hardly kicked before dying--as the bullet, wad, and all, had gone quite through his ribs and entered his heart, after making a large ugly hole in his side. of course he must have been within a few inches of the muzzle, when his breast, pressing against the string, caused the gun to go off. having again loaded the roer, the hunters returned to their beds. one might suppose they would have dragged the suicidal hyena away from the spot, lest his carcass should serve as a warning to his comrades, and keep them away from the trap. but swartboy knew better than that. instead of being scared by the dead body of one of their kind, the hyenas only regard it as proper prey, and will devour it as they would the remains of a tender antelope! knowing this, swartboy did not take the dead hyena away, but only drew it within the kraal to serve as a farther inducement for the others to attempt an entrance there. before morning they were once more awakened by the "bang" of the great gun. this time they lay still; but when day broke they visited their trap, and found that a second hyena had too rashly pressed his bosom against the fatal string. night after night they continued their warfare against the hyenas, changing the trap-kraal to different localities in the surrounding neighbourhood. at length these creatures were nearly exterminated, or, at all events, became so rare and shy, that their presence by the camp was no longer an annoyance one way or the other. about this time, however, there appeared another set of visitors, whose presence was far more to be dreaded, and whose destruction the hunters were more anxious to accomplish. that was _a family of lions_. the spoor of these had been often seen in the neighbourhood; but it was some time before they began to frequent the camp. however, about the time the hyenas had been fairly got rid of, the lions took their place, and came every night, roaring about the camp in a most terrific manner. dreadful as these sounds were, the people were not so much afraid of them as one might imagine. they well knew that the lions could not get at them in the tree. had it been leopards they might have felt less secure, as the latter are true tree-climbers; but they had seen no leopards in that country, and did not think of them. they were not altogether without fear of the lions, however. they were annoyed, moreover, that they could not with safety descend from the tree after nightfall, but were every night _besieged_ from sunset till morning. besides, although the cow and the quaggas were shut in strong kraals, they dreaded each night that the lions would make a seizure of one or other of these animals; and the loss of any one of them, but especially their valuable friend "old graaf," would have been a very serious misfortune. it was resolved, therefore, to try the gun-trap upon the lions, as it had succeeded so well with the hyenas. there was no difference in the construction or contrivance of the trap. the gun only had to be placed upon a higher level, so that its muzzle might be opposite the lion's heart, and the proper range was easily obtained. the bait, however, was not carcass, but an animal freshly killed; and for this purpose an antelope was procured. the result was as desired. on the first night the old male lion "breasted" the fatal string and bit the dust. next night the lioness was destroyed in a similar way; and shortly after a full-grown young male. the trap then lay idle for a while; but about a week after a half-grown "cub" was shot near the camp by hendrik, no doubt the last of that family, as no lions were seen for a long time after. a great enemy to night-plunderers was that same gun-trap. chapter forty three. the weaver-birds. now that the beasts of prey had been destroyed, or driven from about the camp, there was no longer any danger in that quarter, and the children could be left by themselves. totty of course always stayed with them; while the four hunters went forth upon the chase of the elephant--each mounted upon his quagga. they had done so many a time, and as no harm had happened to the children in their absence, such a course became habitual with them. jan and truey were cautioned not to stray far from the nwana, and always to climb to the tree, should they perceive any animal that might be dangerous. before the destruction of the hyenas and lions, they had been used to remain altogether in the tree, while the hunters were absent. but this had been quite an imprisonment to them; and now that the danger was not considered much, they were allowed to come down and play upon the grassy plain, or wander along the shore of the little lake. on one occasion when the hunters were abroad, truey had strayed down to the edge of the water. she was alone, if we except the company of the gazelle, which followed at her heels wherever she went. this pretty creature had grown to full size, and had turned out a great beauty, with large round eyes that had a lovely melting expression, like the eyes of truey herself. well, as i have said, truey was alone. jan was busy near the bottom of the tree, working a new rod into his bird-cage, and totty was out upon the plain herding "old graaf"--so truey and the pet springbok went strolling along by themselves. now truey had not gone down to the water without an object. she had one. she had gone to give her pet a drink, and collect some blue lilies for a bouquet. all this she had done, and still continued to walk along the shore. on one side of the lake, and that the farthest from the nwana-tree, a low spit of land projected into the water. it had once been but a sand-bar, but grass had grown upon it, until a green turf was formed. there was not over a square perch of it altogether, but it was not square in shape. on the contrary, it was of oval form, and much narrower nearest the land, where it formed a neck, or isthmus, not more than three feet in width. it was, in short, a miniature peninsula, which by a very little work with the spade could have been converted into a miniature island--had that been desired. now there is nothing very remarkable about a little peninsula projecting into a lake. in nearly every lake such a thing may be seen. but about this one there was something remarkable. upon its extreme end grew a tree of singular form and foliage. it was not a large tree, and its branches drooped downwards until their tips almost touched the water. the pendulous boughs, and long lanceolate silvery leaves, rendered it easy to tell what sort of tree it was. it was the weeping or _babylonian_ willow--so-called, because it was upon trees of this species that the captive jews hung their harps when they "sat and wept by the streams of babel." this beautiful tree casts its waving shadow over the streams of south africa, as well as those of assyria; and often is the eye of the traveller gladdened by the sight of its silvery leaves, as he beholds them,--sure indications of water-- shining afar over the parched and thirsty desert. if a christian, he fails not to remember that highly poetical passage of sacred writing, that speaks of the willow of babylon. now the one which grew upon the little peninsula had all these points of interest for little truey--but it had others as well. upon its branches that overhung the water a very singular appearance presented itself. upon these was suspended--one upon the end of each branch--a number of odd-shaped objects, that hung drooping down until their lower ends nearly rested upon the surface of the water. these objects, as stated, were of a peculiar shape. at the upper ends--where they were attached to the branches--they were globe-shaped, but the lower part consisted of a long cylinder of much smaller diameter, and at the bottom of this cylinder was the entrance. they bore some resemblance to salad-oil bottles inverted, with their necks considerably lengthened; or they might be compared to the glass retorts seen in the laboratory of the chemist. they were each twelve or fifteen inches in length, and of a greenish colour--nearly as green as the leaves of the tree itself. were they its fruit? no. the weeping-willow bears no fruit of that size. they were not fruit. they were _nests of birds_! yes; they were the nests of a colony of harmless finches of the genus _ploceus_,--better known to you under the appellation of "weaver-birds." i am sure you have heard of weaver-birds before this; and you know that these creatures are so-called on account of the skill which they exhibit in the construction of their nests. they do not _build_ nests, as other birds, but actually _weave_ them, in a most ingenious manner. you are not to suppose that there is but one species of weaver-bird--one kind alone that forms these curious nests. in africa--which is the principal home of these birds--there are many different kinds, forming different genera, whose hard names i shall not trouble you with. each of these different kinds builds a nest of peculiar shape, and each chooses a material different from the others. some, as the _ploceus icterocephalus_, make their nests of a kidney-shape, with the entrance upon the sides, and the latter not circular, but like an arched doorway. others of the genus _plocepasser_ weave their nests in such a manner, that the thick ends of the stalks stick out all around the outside, giving them the appearance of suspended hedgehogs; while the birds of another genus closely allied to the latter, construct their nests of slender twigs, leaving the ends of these to project in a similar manner. the "social gros-beak" (_loxia socia_) fabricates a republic of nests in one clump, and all under one roof. the entrances are in the under-surface of this mass, which, occupying the whole top of a tree, has the appearance of a haystack, or a dense piece of thatch. all these weaver-birds, though of different genera, bear a considerable resemblance to each other in their habits. they are usually _granivorous_, though some are _insectivorous_; and one species, the red-billed weaver-bird, (_textor erythrorhynchus_), is a parasite of the wild buffaloes. it is a mistake to suppose that weaver-birds are only found in africa and the old world, as stated in the works of many naturalists. in tropical america, birds of this character are found in many species of the genera _cassicus_ and _icterus_, who weave pensile nests of a similar kind upon the trees of the amazon and orinoco. but the true weaver-birds--that is to say, those which are considered the _type_ of the class,--are those of the genus _ploceus_; and it was a species of this genus that had hung their pendulous habitations upon the weeping-willow. they were of the species known as the "pensile weaver-bird" (_ploceus pensilis_). there were full twenty of their nests in all, shaped as already described, and of green colour--for the tough "bushman's grass," out of which they had been woven, had not yet lost its verdant hue, nor would it for a long time. being of this colour, they actually looked like something that grew upon the tree,--like great pear-shaped fruits. no doubt from this source have been derived the tales of ancient travellers, who represented that in africa were trees with fruits upon them, which, upon being broken open, disclosed to view either living birds or their eggs! now the sight of the weaver-birds, and their nests, was nothing new to truey. it was some time since the colony had established itself upon the willow-tree, and she and they had grown well acquainted. she had often visited the birds, had collected seeds, and carried them down to the tree; and there was not one of the whole colony that would not have perched upon her wrist or her pretty white shoulders, or hopped about over her fair locks, without fear. it was nothing unusual to her to see the pretty creatures playing about the branches, or entering the long vertical tunnels that led upward to their nests--nothing unusual for truey to listen for hours to their sweet twittering, or watch their love-gambols around the borders of the vley. she was not thinking of them at the moment, but of something else, perhaps of the blue water-lilies--perhaps of the springbok--but certainly not of them, as she tripped gaily along the edge of the lake. her attention, however, was suddenly attracted to the birds. all at once, and without any apparent cause, they commenced screaming and fluttering around the tree, their cries and gestures betokening a high state of excitement or alarm. chapter forty four. the spitting-snake. "what can be the matter with my pretty birds?" asked truey of herself. "something wrong surely! i see no hawk. perhaps they are fighting among themselves. i shall go round and see. i shall soon pacify them." and so saying she mended her pace; and passing round the end of the lake, walked out upon the peninsula until she stood under the willow. there was no underwood. the tree stood alone upon the very end of the spit of land, and truey went close in to its trunk. here she stopped and looked up among the branches, to ascertain what was causing so much excitement among the birds. as she approached, several of the little creatures had flown towards her, and alighted upon her arms and shoulders; but not as was their wont when desiring to be fed. they appeared to be in a state of alarm, and had come to her for protection. some enemy certainly must be near, thought truey, though she could see none. she looked around and above. there were no hawks in the air, nor on the neighbouring trees,--no birds of prey of any kind. had there been one in the willow, she could easily have seen it, as the foliage was light and thin; besides a hawk would not have remained in the tree with her standing so near. what, then, caused the trouble among the birds? what was still causing it--for they were as noisy and terrified as ever? ha! at last the enemy appears--at last truey's eyes have fallen upon the monster who has disturbed the peaceful colony of weavers, and roused them to such a pitch of excitement. slowly gliding along a horizontal branch, grasping the limb in its many spiral folds, appeared the body of a large serpent. its scales glittered as it moved, and it was the shining of these that had caught truey's eyes, and directed them upon the hideous reptile. when she first saw it, it was gliding spirally along one of the horizontal branches of the willow, and coming, as it were, _from_ the nests of the birds. her eyes, however, had scarce rested upon it, before its long slippery body passed from the branch, and the next moment it was crawling head-foremost down the main trunk of the tree. truey had scarce time to start back, before its head was opposite the spot where she had stood. no doubt, had she kept her place she would have been bitten by the serpent at once; for the reptile, on reaching that point, detached its head from the tree, spread its jaws wide open, projected its forked tongue, and hissed horribly. it was evidently enraged--partly because it had failed in its plundering intentions, not having been able to reach the nests of the birds,--and partly that the latter had repeatedly struck it with their beaks--no doubt causing it considerable pain. it was further provoked by the arrival of truey, in whom it recognised the rescuer of its intended victims. whatever were its thoughts at that moment, it was evidently in a rage-- as the motion of its head and the flashing of its eyes testified; and it would have sprung upon any creature that had unfortunately come in its way. truey, however, had no intention of getting in its way if she could avoid it. it might be a harmless serpent for all she knew; but a snake, nearly six feet in length, whether it be harmless or venomous, is a terrible object to be near; and truey had instinctively glided to one side, and stood off from it as far as the water would allow her. she would have run back over the narrow isthmus; but something told her that the snake was about to take that direction, and might overtake her; and this thought induced her to pass to one side of the peninsula, in hopes the reptile would follow the path that led out to the mainland. having got close to the water's edge, she stood gazing upon the hideous form, and trembled as she gazed. had truey known the character of that reptile, she would have trembled all the more. she saw before her one of the most venomous of serpents, the black naja, or "spitting-snake"--the cobra of africa--far more dangerous than its congener the _cobra de capello_ of india, because far more active in its movements, and equally fatal in its bite. truey knew not this. she only knew that there was a great ugly snake, nearly twice her own length, with a large open mouth and glistening tongue, apparently ready to eat her up. that was fearful enough for her, poor thing! and she gazed and trembled, and trembled and gazed again. angry as the cobra appeared, it did not turn aside to attack her. neither did it remain by the tree. after uttering its long loud hiss, it descended to the ground, and glided rapidly off. it made directly for the isthmus, as if intending to pass it, and retreat to some bushes that grew at a distance off on the mainland. truey was in hopes that such was its design, and was just beginning to feel safe again, when, all at once, the snake coiled itself upon the narrow neck of land, as if it intended to stay there. it had executed this manoeuvre so suddenly, and so apparently without premeditation, that truey looked to discover the cause. the moment before, it was gliding along in rapid retreat, its glistening form stretched to its full length along the earth. the next instant it had assumed the appearance of a coiled cable, over the edge of which projected its fierce head, with the scaly skin of its neck broadly extended, into that hood-like form which characterises the cobra. truey, we have said, looked for the cause of this sudden change in the tactics of the reptile. she learnt it at the first glance. there stretched a piece of smooth sloping ground from the edge of the lake back into the plain. by this the little peninsula was approached. as she glanced outward, she saw the springbok advancing down this slope. it was the approach of the antelope that had interrupted the retreat of the serpent! truey, on first discovering the snake, had uttered a cry of alarm. this cry had summoned her pet--that had lingered behind browsing upon the grass--and it was now bounding forward, with its white tail erect, and its large brown eyes glistening with an expression of inquiry. it saw its mistress out upon the peninsula. had she called it? why had she uttered that strange cry? they were not sounds of joyful import it had heard. was anything amiss? yonder she stood. it would gallop to her and see what was wanted; and with such thoughts passing through its brain, the bright little creature bounded down the bank towards the edge of the lake. truey trembled for her pet. another spring, and it would be upon the lurking serpent--another-- "ha! it is safe!" these words escaped from the lips of the young girl, as she saw the springbok rise high into the air, and leap far and clear over the coiled reptile. the antelope had observed the snake in time, and saved itself by one of those tremendous bounds, such as only a springbok can make. the fond creature, having passed the danger, now ran on to its mistress, and stood with its big shining eyes bent upon her inquiringly. but the cry that truey had uttered had summoned another individual. to her horror, she now saw little jan running down the slope, and coming directly upon the path where the cobra lay coiled! chapter forty five. the serpent-eater. jan's danger was imminent. he was rushing impetuously forward upon the coiled serpent. he knew not that it was before him. no warning would reach him in time to stay his haste. in another moment he would be on the narrow path, and then no power could save him from the deadly bite. it would be impossible for him to leap aside or over the reptile, as the antelope had done; for even then truey had noticed that the cobra had darted its long neck several feet upwards. it would be certain to reach little jan, perhaps, coil itself around him. jan would be lost! for some moments truey was speechless. terror had robbed her of the power of speech. she could only scream, and fling her arms wildly about. but these demonstrations, instead of warning jan of the danger, only rendered it the more certain. he connected the cries which truey now uttered with that which had first summoned him. she was in some trouble--he knew not what; but as she continued to scream, he believed that something had attacked her. a snake he thought it might be; but whatever it was, his first impulse was to hurry up to her rescue. he could do no good until close to her; and, therefore, he did not think of halting until he should reach the spot where she stood. her screams, therefore, and the wild gestures that accompanied them, only caused him to run the faster; and as his eyes were bent anxiously on truey, there was not the slightest hope that he would perceive the serpent until he had either trodden upon it, or felt its fatal bite. truey uttered one last cry of warning, pronouncing at the same time the words:-- "o, brother! back! the snake! the snake!" the words were uttered in vain. jan heard them, but did not comprehend their meaning. he heard the word "snake." he was expecting as much; it had attacked truey; and although he did not see it, it was no doubt wound about her body. he hurried on. already he was within six paces of the dread reptile, that had erected its long spread neck to receive him. another moment, and its envenomed fangs would pierce deep into his flesh. with a despairing scream truey rushed forward. she hoped to attract the monster upon herself. she would risk her own life to save that of her brother! she had got within six feet of the threatening reptile. jan was about the same distance from it on the opposite side. they were equally in peril; and one or the other--perhaps both--would have fallen a sacrifice to the deadly cobra; but at that moment their saviour was nigh. a dark shadow passed under their eyes--in their ears was a rushing sound like the "whish" of a falling body--and at the same instant a large bird darted down between them! it did not stay to alight. for a moment its strong broad wings agitated the air in their faces; but the next moment the bird made a sudden effort, and rose vertically upwards. truey's eyes fell upon the ground. the cobra was no longer there. with an exclamation of joy she sprang forward, and, throwing her arms around jan, cried out,-- "we are saved, brother!--we are saved!" jan was somewhat bewildered. as yet he had seen no snake. he had seen the bird dart down between them; but so adroitly had it seized the cobra and carried it off, that jan, looking only at truey, had not perceived the serpent in its beak. he was bewildered and terrified, for he still fancied that truey was in danger. when he heard her exclaim, "we are saved!" he was bewildered all the more. "but the snake!" he cried out. "where is the snake?" as he put these questions, he kept examining truey from head to foot, as if expecting to see a reptile twined around some part of her body. "the snake, jan! did you not see it? it was just there, at our feet; but now--see! yonder it is. the _secretary_ has got it. see! they are fighting! good bird! i hope it will punish the villain for trying to rob my pretty weavers. that's it, good bird! give it to him! see, jan! what a fight!" "oh, ah!" said jan, now comprehending the situation. "oh, ah! sure yonder _is_ a snake, and a whopper, too. ne'er fear, truey! trust my secretary. he'll give the rascal a taste of his claws. there's a lick well put in! another touch like that, and there won't be much life left in the scaly villain. there again,--wop!" with these and similar exclamations the two children stood watching the fierce conflict that raged between the bird and the reptile. now this bird was a very peculiar one--so much so, that in all the world there is no other of the same kind. in form it resembled a crane, having very long legs, and being about the height and size of a crane. its head and beak, however, were more like those of an eagle or vulture. it had well-developed wings, armed with spurs, and a very long tail, with the two middle feathers longer than the rest. its general colour was bluish grey, with a white throat and breast, and a reddish tinge upon the wing-feathers. but, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about the bird was its "crest." this consisted of a number of long, blackish plumes growing out of its occiput, and extending down the back of its neck nearly to the shoulders. these gave the bird a very peculiar appearance; and the fancied resemblance to a secretary of the olden time with his long quill behind his ear--before steel pens came into fashion--is the reason why the bird has received the very inappropriate name of the "secretary-bird." it is more properly named the "serpent-eater," and naturalists have given it the title _gypogeranus_, or "crane-vulture." it is sometimes also called "the messenger," from the staid solemn manner of its walk, as it stalks over the plain. of all its names that of "serpent-eater" is the best adapted to the character of the bird. it is true there are other birds that kill and eat serpents,--as the "guaco" bird of south america, and many hawks and kites,--but the secretary is the only winged creature that makes reptiles of this class exclusively its prey, and carries on a constant war against them. it is not strictly correct to say that it feeds exclusively upon snakes. it will also eat lizards, tortoises, and even locusts; but snakes are certainly its favourite food, and to obtain these it risks its life in many a deadly encounter with those of a very large kind. the serpent-eater is an african bird, and is not peculiar to south africa alone, as it is found in the gambia country. it is also a native of the philippine isles. there is some doubt whether the species of the philippine isles is identical with that of africa. a difference is noted in the plumage, though very slight. the disposition of the crest-plumes differs in the two, and the tail-feathers are differently arranged. in the african species the two middle ones are the longest, while in the serpent-eater of the philippines it is the two outside feathers that project--giving the bird the appearance of having a "fork" or "swallow" tail. some points of distinction have also been observed between the south african bird and that of the gambia. the serpent-eater is, however, a very unique bird; and naturalists, failing to class it with either hawks, eagles, vultures, gallinae, or cranes, have elevated it, so as to form a distinct tribe, family, genus, and species, of itself. in south africa it frequents the great plains and dry karoos, stalking about in search of its prey. it is not gregarious, but lives solitary or in pairs, making its nest in trees,--usually those of a thick thorny species,--which renders the nest most difficult of approach. the whole edifice is about three feet in diameter, and resembles the nests of the tree-building eagles. it is usually lined with feathers and down, and two or three eggs are the number deposited for a single hatching. the serpent-eater is an excellent runner, and spends more time on foot than on the wing. it is a shy wary bird, yet, notwithstanding, it is most easily domesticated; and it is not uncommon to see them about the houses of the cape farmers, where they are kept as pets, on account of their usefulness in destroying snakes, lizards, and other vermin. they have been long ago introduced into the french west india islands, and naturalised there--in order that they should make war upon the dangerous "yellow serpent" (_trigonocephalus lanceolatus_), the plague of the plantations in those parts. now the bird which had so opportunely appeared between jan and truey, and had no doubt saved one or the other, or both, from the deadly bite of the _spuugh-slang_, was a serpent-eater,--one that had been tamed, and that made its home among the branches of the great nwana-tree. the hunters had found it upon the plain, wounded by some animal,--perhaps a very large snake,--and had brought it home as a curiosity. in time it quite recovered from its wounds; but the kindness it had received, during the period when it was an invalid, was not thrown away upon it. when it recovered the use of its wings, it refused to leave the society of its protectors, but remained habitually in the camp--although it made frequent excursions into the surrounding plains in search of its favourite food. it always, however, returned at night, and roosted among the branches of the great nwana-tree. of course it was jan's pet, and jan was very good to it; but it now repaid all his kindness in saving him from the fangs of the deadly cobra. the children, having recovered from their alarm, stood watching the singular conflict between serpent and serpent-eater. on first seizing the reptile the bird had caught it by the neck in its beak. it might not have accomplished this so readily, had not the attention of the snake been occupied by the children, thus throwing it off its guard. having succeeded in seizing the reptile, the bird rose nearly in a vertical direction to a height of many yards, and then opening his beak permitted the serpent to fall to the ground. his object was to stun the latter by the fall; and the more effectually to do this, he would have carried the cobra still higher, had not the latter prevented it by attempting to coil itself around his wings. upon letting fall his prey the serpent-eater did not remain in the air. on the contrary, he darted after the falling reptile, and the moment the latter touched the ground, and before it could put itself in an attitude of defence, the bird "pounced" upon it with spread foot, striking it a violent blow near the neck. the snake was still but slightly damaged, and throwing itself into a coil stood upon its defence. its mouth was opened to its widest extent, its tongue protruded, its fangs were erect, and its eyes flashing with rage and poison. a terrible antagonist it appeared, and for a moment the secretary seemed to think so, as he stood on the ground confronting it. but the bird soon began to advance upon it for a renewal of the attack, though this advance was made in a cautious manner. with the pinions of one of his strong wings spread broadly out for a shield, he approached the reptile sideways, and, when near enough, suddenly wheeled, turning upon his leg as on a pivot, and struck sharply out with his other wing. the blow was delivered with good effect. it reached the head of the snake, and seemed to stun it. its neck drooped, and the coils became loosened. before it could recover itself it was once more in the beak of the serpent-eater, and trailing through the air. this time the bird rose to a much greater height than before--as he was not hampered by the writhing of the serpent--and as before suffered the reptile to fall, and then darted suddenly after. when the snake came to the ground a second time it lay for a moment stretched at full length, as if stunned or dead. it was not dead, however, and would once more have coiled itself; but, before it could do so, the bird had repeatedly "pounced" upon its neck with his spread and horny feet; and at length, watching his opportunity when the head of the serpent lay flat, he struck a blow with his sharp beak so violent, that it split the skull of the reptile in twain! life was now extinct, and the hideous form, extended to its full length, lay lithe and motionless upon the grass. jan and truey clapped their hands, and uttered exclamations of joy. the serpent-eater took no heed of their demonstrations, but, approaching the dead cobra, bent over it, and coolly set about making his dinner. chapter forty six. totty and the chacmas. von bloom and his family had now been months without bread. they were not without a substitute, however, as various roots and nuts supplied them with a change of food. of the latter, they had the ground or pig-nut (_arachis hypogea_), which grows in all parts of southern africa, and which forms a staple food of the native inhabitants. for vegetables they had the bulbs of many species of _ixias_ and _mesembryanthemums_, among others the "hottentot fig" (_mesembryanthemum edule_). they had the "caffir bread"--the inside pith of the stems of a species of _zamia_; and the "caffir chestnut," the fruit of the _brabeium stellatum_; and last, not least, the enormous roots of the "elephant's foot" (_testudinaria elephantipes_). they had wild onions and garlic too; and in the white flower-tops of a beautiful floating plant (_aponogeton distachys_), they found a substitute for asparagus. all these roots and fruits were to be obtained in the neighbourhood, and no man knew better how to find them, and "crow" them up when found, than did swartboy the bushman. well might he, for in swartboy's early days he had often been compelled to subsist for weeks, and even months, on roots alone! but although they could procure a constant supply of these natural productions, they considered them but a poor substitute for bread; and all of them longed to eat once more what is usually termed the "staff of life"--though in south africa, where so many people live exclusively upon the flesh of animals, bread is hardly entitled to that appellation. bread they were likely to have, and soon. when trekking from the old kraal, they had brought with them a small bag of maize. it was the last of their previous year's stock; and there was not in all over a bushel of it. but that was enough for seed, and would produce many bushels if properly planted, and carefully tended. this had been done shortly after their arrival at their present home. a fertile spot of ground had been selected, only a few hundred yards from the nwana-tree. it had been turned up with the spade, for want of a plough, and the seeds planted at proper distances. many an hour had been given to the weeding and hoeing of it, and around every plant a little hill of soft mould had been raised, to nourish the roots, and protect them from the heat of the sun. the plants were even watered now and then. partly on account of this attention, and partly from the richness of the virgin soil, a splendid growth was the result; and the stalks stood full twelve feet high, with ears nearly a foot long. they had almost ripened; and the field-cornet intended in about a week or ten days to gather in the crop. both he and all his people were anticipating pleasant feasts of maize-bread, and "hominy," with "mash and milk" and various other dishes, that with totty's skill could be manufactured out of the indian corn. about this time an incident occurred that nearly deprived them, not only of their whole plot of maize-plants, but also of their valuable housekeeper, totty. it was as follows. totty was on the platform in the great nwana-tree, which commanded a view of the corn-patch, and also of the plain beyond, as far as the bottom of the cliffs. she was busied about "house" affairs, when her attention was called off, by some singular noises that came from that direction. she parted the branches and looked through. a singular scene was before her eyes--a spectacle of no common kind. a body of odd-looking animals, to the number of two hundred or more, was coming from the direction of the cliffs. they were creatures of ungainly forms--in make and size not unlike large ill-shaped dogs--and of a greenish brown colour. their faces and ears only were black, and these were naked, while their bodies were covered with harsh coarse hair. they had long tails, which some of them carried high in the air, and flourished about in a very eccentric manner. totty was by no means alarmed. she knew what sort of animals they were. she knew they were _baboons_. they were of the species known as the "pig-faced" baboon or "chacma" (_cynocephalus porcarius_), which is found in nearly every part of south africa where there are high cliffs with caves and crevices--the favourite dwelling-places of the baboon. of all the monkey tribe the baboons, or dog-headed monkeys (_cynocephali_), are the most disgusting in form and features. who does not feel disgust when regarding the hideous mandrill--the drill--the hamadryas--or even the chacma? and all these are baboons. the baboons are peculiar to africa, and there are six well-known species of them:--the common baboon of north africa, the "papion" of the south and western coast, the "hamadryas" or "tartarin" of abyssinia, the "mandrill" and "drill" of guinea, and the "chacma" of the cape colony. the habits of these animals are as disgusting as their appearance. they may be tamed, and made "pets" of; but dangerous pets they are, as they will, upon the slightest provocation, bite the hand that feeds them. their great strength of body and jaw, and their long canine teeth, give them a dangerous power which they often make use of. no dog is a match for one, and the hyena and leopard often come off second-best in an encounter with a baboon. they are not carnivorous, however, and only tear their enemy to pieces without eating it. their food consists of fruits and bulbous roots, which they well understand to dig out of the ground with the sharp nails of their hands. although they will not attack man if left alone, they become dangerous assailants when hunted and brought to bay. many odd stories are told of the chacma baboon among the settlers of southern africa, such as their robbing the traveller of his food, and then going off to some distance, and mocking him, while they devour it. the natives also say that they sometimes use a stick in walking, "crowing" for roots, and in self-defence. also, when a young one has succeeded in finding a choice root, and is observed by an older and stronger one, that the latter takes it away: but, should the young one have already swallowed it, then the bully picks him up, turns him head downward, and shakes him until he is forced to "disgorge!" many such tales are current in the country of the boors, and they are not all without foundation, for these animals most certainly possess the power of _reflection_ in a high degree. totty from her perch saw enough to convince her of this, had she been herself inclined to philosophise. but she was not. she was only a little curious about the manoeuvres of the animals, and she called truey and little jan up into the tree, in order that they might share the spectacle with her. all the others were off hunting. jan was delighted, and ran up the ladder at once. so did truey, and all three stood watching the odd movements of the four-handed creatures. they perceived that the troop was actually marching in order; not _in line_, but with some understood arrangement. there were scouts upon the wings, and leaders in front. these were baboons of greater age and size than the others. there were calls and signals, and the change of accent and tone would have convinced any one that a regular conversation was going on. the females and younger ones marched in the middle for better security. the mothers carried their infants upon their backs, or over their shoulders. now a mother would stop to suckle her little offspring--dressing its hair at the same time--and then gallop forward to make up for the loss. now one would be seen beating her child, that had in some way given offence. now two young females would quarrel, from jealousy or some other cause, and then a terrible chattering would ensue, to be silenced by the loud threatening bark of one of the chiefs! thus proceeded they across the plain, chattering, and screaming, and barking, as only monkeys can. what were they after? that question was answered very soon. truey, and jan, and totty, saw, to their dismay, that the baboons were not out upon an idle errand. they were after the maize-plants! in a few minutes most of the troop had entered the corn-field, and were hidden from view by the tall stems and broad leaves of the plants. a few only could be seen,--large old fellows, that stationed themselves outside as sentinels, and were keeping up a constant interchange of signals. the main body was already stripping the plants of their precious fruit. but a singular appearance presented itself beyond the corn-field, where a line of baboons, stationed at equal distance from one another, extended away to the very bottom of the cliff. these had been left by a regular manoeuvre,--a deployment--as the troop traversed the plain in coming to the field. for what purpose? that was soon apparent. in less than two minutes after the crowd disappeared under the shelter of the maize-plants, the long heads in their husks were seen showering out towards the line, as if flung by the hand of man! those placed at the near end of the line immediately took them up, pitched them to the next, and these to the next, and so on, until, in a very short while from the time a head was plucked from the stalk, it was delivered to the storehouse of the baboons far off among the cliffs! had this work gone on much longer the field-cornet would have had but a poor gathering in harvest-time. the baboons thought the corn ripe enough, and would soon have made a crop of it, but at this moment their operations were interrupted. totty knew but little of the danger she underwent, when she ran forth with nothing but that long broom-handle to drive off a troop of chacmas. she only thought of the loss her kind master was sustaining; and down the ladder she hurried, and ran straight out to the corn-field. several sentinels met her by its edge, grinned, chattered, screamed, barked, and showed their long canine teeth; but they only received a blow over their ugly snouts from the broom-handle. their cries summoned the others; and in a few moments the poor hottentot was standing in the midst of an angry circle of chacmas, that were only prevented from springing in upon her by the expert manner in which she continued to ply the broomstick. but this slight weapon would not have served much longer, and totty's fate--that of being torn to pieces--would soon have been sealed, had not four horsemen, or rather "quagga-men," at that moment galloped up to her rescue. these were the hunters returning from the chase; and a volley from their guns at once scattered the ugly chacmas, and sent them howling back to their caves. after that the field-cornet looked well to his maize, until it was ready for gathering; when it was all brought home, and deposited in safety out of the reach of either birds, reptiles, quadrupeds or _quadrumuna_. chapter forty seven. the wild hounds and the hartebeest. since the taming of the quaggas the hunting had been attended with tolerable success. not a week passed without adding a pair of tusks-- sometimes two or three pairs--to the collection, which now began to assume the form of a little pyramid of ivory standing near the bottom of the nwana. von bloom, however, was not quite satisfied with his progress. he thought they might do far better if they only had a few dogs. though the quaggas were of great service to them, and with these they were often able to overtake the elephant, yet they as often lost their great game, and it is more easy to do so than most persons imagine. but with dogs to join in the hunt, the result would be quite different. it is true these animals cannot pull down an elephant, nor do him the slightest injury; but they can follow him whithersoever he may go, and by their barking bring him to a stand. another valuable service which the dogs perform, is in drawing the attention of the elephant away from the hunters. the huge quadruped when enraged is, as we have already seen, exceedingly dangerous. on such occasions he will charge upon the noisy dogs, mistaking them for his real assailants. this, of course, gives the hunter a good opportunity of delivering his fire, and avoiding the deadly encounter of the elephant. now in several elephant-hunts which they had lately made, our hunters had run some very narrow risks. their quaggas were neither so manageable nor so quick in their movements as horses would have been, and this rendered the hazard still greater. some of them might one day fall a victim. so feared von bloom; and he would gladly have given for a number of dogs an elephant's tusk a-piece--even though they were the most worthless of curs. indeed, their quality is but of slight importance. any dogs that can trace the elephant and pester him with their barring would do. von bloom even thought of taming some hyenas, and training _them_ to the hunt. this idea was by no means quixotic. the hyena is often used for such a purpose, and performs even better than many kinds of dogs. one day von bloom was pondering over this subject. he was seated on a little platform that had been constructed very high up--near the top of the nwana-tree--from which a view could be had of the whole country around. it was a favourite resort of the field-cornet--his smoking-room, in fact--where he went every evening to enjoy a quiet pull out of his great meerschaum. his face was turned upon the plain that stretched from the border of the _bosch_ as far as the eye could reach. while quietly puffing away, his attention was attracted by some animals standing at a distance off upon the plain. the brilliant colour of their bodies had caught his eye. they were of a lively sienna colour over the back and sides, and white underneath, with a list of black upon the outside of the legs, and some black stripes upon the face, as regularly defined as if laid on by the brush of a painter. they had horns of very irregular shape, roughly knotted--each curved into something of the shape of a reaping-hook, and rising directly from the top of one of the straightest and longest heads ever carried by an animal. these animals were far from being gracefully formed. they had drooping hind-quarters like the giraffe, though in a much less degree, shoulders greatly elevated, and long narrow heads. for the rest their forms were bony and angular. each stood five feet high, from the fore-hoof to the shoulder, and full nine feet in length. they were antelopes of course--that species known among cape colonists as the "hartebeest" (_acronotus caama_). there were in all about fifty of them in the herd. when first observed by von bloom, they were quietly browsing upon the plain. the next moment, however, they were seen to run to and fro, as if suddenly alarmed by the approach of an enemy. and an enemy there certainly was; for in a moment more the herd had taken to flight; and von bloom now saw that they were followed by a _pack of hounds_! i say a "pack of hounds," for the creatures in the distance exactly resembled hounds more than anything in the world. nay, more than resembled, for it actually _was_ a pack of hounds--of _wild hounds_! of course von bloom knew what they were. he knew they were the "wilde-honden," very absurdly named by sapient naturalists "_hyena venatica_," or "hunting hyena," and by others, with equal absurdity, the "hunting dog." i pronounce these names "absurd," first because the animal in question bears no more resemblance to a hyena than it does to a hedgehog; and, secondly, because "hunting dog" is a very ridiculous appellation, since any dog may merit a similar title. now i would ask, why could these naturalists not let the nomenclature of the boors alone? if a better name than "wilde-honden" (wild hounds) can be given to these animals, i should like to hear it. why, it is the very perfection of a name, and exactly expresses the character of the animal to which they apply it--that character, which coming under their everyday observation, suggested the name. it is quite a libel to call this beautiful creature a hyena. he has neither the ugly form, the harsh pelage, the dull colour, nor the filthy habits of one. call him a "wolf," or "wild dog," if you please, but he is at the same time the handsomest wolf or wild dog in creation. but we shall name him, as the boors have done, a "wild hound." that is his true title, let naturalists class him as they may. his size, shape, his smooth clean coat, as well as his colour, approximate him more to the hound than to any other animal. in the last--which is a ground of "tan" blotched and mottled with large spots of black and grey--he bears a striking resemblance to the common hound; and the superior size of his ears would seem to assimilate him still more to this animal. the ears however, as in all the wild species of _canis_, are of course not hanging, but erect. his habits, however, crown the resemblance. in his natural state the wild hound never prowls alone; but boldly runs down his game, following it in large organised packs, just as hounds do; and in his hunting he exhibits as much skill as if he had tom moody riding at his heels, to guide with whip and horn. it was the field-cornet's good fortune to witness an exhibition of this skill. the hounds had come unexpectedly upon the hartebeest herd; and almost at the first dash, one of the antelopes became separated from the rest, and ran in an opposite direction. this was just what the cunning dogs wanted; and the whole pack, instead of following the herd, turned after the single one, and ran "tail on end." now this hartebeest, although an ill-shaped antelope, is one of the very swiftest of the tribe; and the wild hound does not capture it without a severe chase. in fact, he could not capture it at all, if speed were the only point between the two animals. but it is not. the hartebeest has a weakness in its character, opposite to which the wild hound possesses a cunning. the former when chased, although it runs in a straight line, does not keep long in a direct course. now and then it diverges to one side or the other, led perhaps by the form of the ground, or some other circumstance. in this habit lies its weakness. the wild hound is well aware of it, and takes advantage of it by a manoeuvre, which certainly savours strongly of reflection on his part. our field-cornet had a proof of this as he watched the chase. his elevated position gave him a view of the whole ground, and he could note every movement both of pursuer and pursued. on breaking off, the hartebeest ran in a right line, and the hounds followed straight after. they had not gone far, however, when von bloom perceived that one hound was forging ahead of the rest, and running much faster than any of them. he might have been a swifter dog than the others, but the hunter did not think it was that. he appeared rather to be running harder than they, as if sent forward to _push_ the hartebeest, while the rest saved their wind. this proved to be really the case; for the dog, by a desperate effort, having gained upon the antelope, caused the latter to turn slightly from its original course; and the pack, perceiving this, changed their direction at the same time, and held along a diagonal line, as if to head the game. by this means they avoided the detour which both the antelope and their companion had made. the hartebeest was now running upon a new line; and as before, one of the hounds was soon seen to head the pack, and press forward at the top of his speed. the one that first led, as soon as the antelope turned from its original course, fell back, rejoined the pack, and was now lagging among the hindmost! his "turn" of duty was over. again the hartebeest verged from its course. again the pack ran obliquely, and made a second "cut" upon him--again a fresh dog took the lead, and on swept the chase as before--the wild hounds uttering their yelping notes as they ran. several times was this manoeuvre executed by the cunning dogs--until the desired result was accomplished, and the antelope was completely "blown." then, as if they felt that it was in their power, and that further strategy was not needed, the whole pack rushed forward simultaneously, and closed rapidly upon the game. the hartebeest made one last despairing effort to escape, but, finding that speed would no longer avail, the creature wheeled suddenly round, and placed itself in an attitude of defiance--the foam falling from its lips, while its red eyes sparkled like coals of fire. in another moment the dogs were around it. "what a splendid pack!" exclaimed von bloom. "oh! that i had such an one! "ha!" he continued, as a new thought struck him, "and why not, just such an one?--why not?" now the train of reflections that passed through the mind of the field-cornet was as follows:-- that the wild hounds might be tamed, and trained to hunting,--easiest of all, to the chase of the elephant. he knew that this could be done, for boor-hunters had often done it. true, the dogs must be taken young, but where were young ones to be obtained? it is not so easy to capture the pups of the wild hound. until they are able to run well, their mothers do not permit them to stray far from the caves in which they are littered; and these are usually crevices among rocks quite inaccessible to man. how could he obtain a set of them? he had already formed such an intention. where could be their breeding-place? his reflections were interrupted at this point, by very singular behaviour on the part of the wild hounds, and which gave him a new idea of their intelligence that quite electrified him. when the hartebeest stood to bay, and the hounds came up, von bloom very naturally expected to see the latter run in upon their game, and at once pull it to the ground. this he knew was their usual habit. what was his astonishment at seeing the whole pack standing off to one side, as if they intended to leave the antelope alone! some of them even lay down to rest themselves, while the others stood with open jaws and lolling tongues, but without showing any signs that they intended further to molest the panting quarry! the field-cornet could observe the situation well, for the antelope was on his side--that is, towards the cliffs--while the dogs were farther out upon the plain. another circumstance that astonished him was, that the dogs, after running up and around the hartebeest, had actually drawn off to their present position! what could it mean? were they afraid of its ugly horns? were they resting themselves before they should make their bloody onslaught? the hunter kept his gaze intently fixed upon the interesting group. after a while the antelope, having recovered its wind a little, and seeing the pack so distant, made a fresh start. this time it ran in a side direction, apparently with the intention of gaining a hill that lay in that way, and up the sides of which it no doubt calculated upon gaining some advantage. but the creature had hardly stretched itself, when the hounds struck out after it; and in five hundred yards running, once more brought it to a stand. again the pack took station at a distance, and the hartebeest stood upon the plain alone! once more it essayed to escape, and started off with all the speed that was left in its legs--the hounds as before trooping after. this time the antelope headed in a new direction, making for a point in the cliffs; and as the chase now passed very near to the nwana-tree, everybody had a fine view of it. the hartebeest seemed to be going faster than ever, or, at all events, the dogs did not now appear to gain upon it; and the field-cornet, as well as all the young people, were in hopes the poor creature would escape from its tireless pursuers. they watched the chase, until they could just see the bright body of the hartebeest afar off, appearing like a yellow spot upon the face of the rocks, but the dogs were no longer visible. then the yellow spot suddenly disappeared like the going out of a candle, and they could see it no more. no doubt the antelope was pulled down! a strange suspicion entered the mind of von bloom, and, calling upon them to saddle the quaggas, he, with hans and hendrik, rode off towards the place where the hartebeest had been last seen. they approached the ground with caution; and under the shelter of some bushes were enabled to get within two hundred yards of the spot without being observed. a singular spectacle rewarded their pains. within a dozen yards of the cliff lay the body of the hartebeest, where it had been "pulled down" by the dogs. it was already half-eaten, not by the hounds that had hunted it, but by their puppies of all ages, that to the number of more than threescore were now standing around the carcass, tugging away at its flesh and snarling at one another! some of the grown dogs that had taken part in the chase could be seen lying upon the ground, still panting after their hard run; but most of them had disappeared, no doubt into the numerous small caves and crevices that opened along the bottom of the cliffs. there was no room left to doubt the singular fact--that the wild hounds had regularly driven the hartebeest up to their breeding-place to feed their young, and that they had abstained from killing it out upon the plain to save themselves the labour of dragging it from a distance! indeed these animals--unlike the _felida_--have not the power of transporting a large mass to any considerable distance; hence the wonderful instinct which led them to guide the antelope to the very spot where its flesh was wanted! that they were in the constant practice of this singular habit was attested, by the numerous bones and horns of large antelopes of different kinds, that lay strewed around the place. von bloom had his eye upon the young puppies, and all three made a rush towards them. but it was to no purpose. cunning as their fathers and mothers, the little fellows forsook their meal at first sight of the intruders, and darted off into their caves! but they were not cunning enough to escape the snares, which were laid for them every day for a week after; and, before the end of that time, more than a dozen of them were safely domiciled in a little kennel built especially for their use, under the shadow of the great nwana-tree. in less than six months from that time, several of them were in the field, and trained to the chase of the elephant, which duty they performed with all the courage and skill that could have been shown by hounds of the purest breed! chapter forty eight. conclusion. for several years von bloom led the life of an elephant-hunter. for several years the great nwana-tree was his home, and his only companions his children and domestics. but, perhaps, these were not the least happy years of his existence, since, during all the time both he and his family had enjoyed the most estimable of earthly blessings,--health. he had _not_ allowed his children to grow up without instruction. he had _not_ permitted them to lapse into the character of mere "bush-boys." he had taught them many things from the book of nature,-- many arts that can be acquired as well on the karoo as in the college. he had taught them to love god, and to love one another. he had planted in their minds the seeds of the virtuous principles,--honour and morality,--without which all education is worthless. he had imbued them with habits of industry and self-reliance, and had initiated them into many of the accomplishments of civilised life--so that upon their return to society they might be quite equal to its claims. upon the whole, those years of the exile's life, spent in his wilderness home, formed no blank in his existence. he might look back upon them with feelings of satisfaction and pleasure. man, however, is formed for society. the human heart, properly organised, seeks communion with the human heart; and the mind, especially when refined and polished by education, loves the intercourse of social life, and, when deprived of it, will always yearn to obtain it. so was it with the field-cornet. he desired to return once more within the pale of civilised society. he desired once more to revisit the scenes where he had so long dwelt in peaceful happiness; he desired once more to establish himself among his friends and acquaintances of former days, in the picturesque district of the graaf reinet. indeed, to have remained any longer in his wilderness home could have served no purpose. it is true he had grown very much attached to his wild hunter-life, but it was no longer likely to be profitable. the elephants had completely forsaken the neighbourhood of the camp, and not one was to be found within twenty miles of the spot. they had become well acquainted with the report of the long roer, and knew the dangerous character of that weapon; they had learnt that of all their enemies man was the one to be especially dreaded and shunned; and they had grown so shy of his presence, that the hunters frequently passed whole weeks without setting their eyes upon a single elephant. but this was no longer an object of solicitude with von bloom. other considerations now occupied his mind, and he did not care much if he should never spoor another of these huge quadrupeds. to return to the graaf reinet, and settle there, was now the ultimatum of his wishes. the time had at length arrived when he would be able to carry out that design; and nothing seemed any longer to stand in the way of its full and complete accomplishment. the proscription against him had been long since taken off. a general amnesty had been passed by the government, and he had been pardoned among the rest. it is true his property was not restored to him; but that mattered little now. he had created a new property, as was testified by the vast _pyramid of ivory_ that stood under the shadow of the great nwana-tree! nothing remained but to transport this shining pile to a market, and a splendid fortune would be the result. and von bloom's ingenuity found the means for bringing it to market. about this time there was dug another huge _pit-trap_ near the pass in the cliffs, in which many quaggas were trapped; and then there were stirring scenes, while these wild creatures were being broken to harness, and trained to "trek" in a wagon. they were trained however, after a good deal of trouble--the old wheels, still in prime condition, serving as the "break;" and then the body of the wagon was let down from the tree, and once more renewed its acquaintance with its old companions the wheels; and the cap-tent spread its protecting shadow over all; and the white and yellow crescents were stowed; and the quaggas were "inspanned;" and swartboy, mounting the "voor-kist," once more cracked his long bamboo whip; and the wheels, well oiled with elephants' grease, again whirled gaily along! how surprised were the good people of graaf reinet, when, one morning, a cap-tent wagon, drawn by twelve quaggas, and followed by four riders mounted upon animals of the same kind, pulled up in the public square of their little town! how astonished they were on seeing that this wagon was "chuck" full of elephants' teeth, all except a little corner occupied by a beautiful girl with cherry cheeks and fair flaxen hair; and how joyed were they, in fine, on learning that the owner of both the ivory and the beautiful girl was no other than their old friend, and much-esteemed fellow-citizen, the field-cornet von bloom! a warm welcome met the elephant-hunter in the square of graaf reinet, and, what was also of some importance, a ready market for his ivory. it chanced just at that time that ivory was selling at a very high rate. some article--i do not remember what--the principal part of which required to be constructed of pure ivory, had come into fashion and general use in european countries, and the consequence was an increased demand for this valuable commodity. it was a fortunate circumstance for the returned hunter, who was at once enabled to dispose of his stock, not only for ready money, but at such a fine price as to yield him nearly twice the amount he had calculated on receiving! he had not brought it all with him, as there was more than would have loaded any one wagon. a second load had remained, hidden near the nwana-tree, and this required a journey to be made for it. it was made in due time, and the remainder arrived safely at graaf reinet, and was there delivered to the ivory-dealers, who had already purchased it. the result was a splendid fortune in ready money. the field-cornet was once more a rich man! for the present we can follow his history no farther than to say, that the proceeds of his great hunt enabled him to buy back his old estate, and to stock it in splendid style, with the best breeds of horses, horned cattle, and sheep; that he rose rapidly in wealth and worldly esteem; that the government gave him its confidence; and, having first restored him to his old office of field-cornet, soon afterwards promoted him to that of "landdrost," or chief magistrate of the district. hans returned to his college studies; while the dashing hendrik was enabled to enter the profession for which he was most fit, and the very one that fitted him, by obtaining a cornetcy in the "cape mounted rifles." little jan was packed off to school to study grammar and geography; while the beautiful truey remained at home to grace the mansion of her honoured father, and look after his household affairs. totty still ruled the kitchen; and, of course, swartboy was the important man about the house, and for many a long year after cracked his great whip, and flourished his jambok among the long-horned oxen of the wealthy landdrost. but enough for the present,--enough of adventure for one year. let us hope, boy readers, that before you and i have circled once more around the sun, we shall make a fresh trip to the land of the boors, and again encounter the worthy von bloom, his bushman, and-- "bush-boys." the end. a frontier mystery, by bertram mitford. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ a frontier mystery, by bertram mitford. chapter one. "where i come in." "white dogs!" "ha! calves of matyana, the least of the great one's cattle." "pups of tyingoza, the white man's dog! _au_!" "sweepings of the abe sutu!" "amakafula!" [kafirs.] such were but few of the opprobrious phrases, rolled forth alternately, in the clear sonorous zulu, from alternate sides of the river, which flowed laughing and bubbling on in the sunlight, between its high banks of tree-shaded rocks. yet in spite of the imputation of "whiteness" made by the one, they of the other party were in no shade of bronze duskiness removed from those who made it. each party numbered about a dozen: young men all, with the same lithe straight forms destitute of all clothing but a skin _mutya_; armed with the same two or three assegais and a knobstick apiece, eke small hide shields. there was no outward visible difference between them, as how indeed, should there be, since both were sprung from absolutely the same stock? but the difference was essential for all that, for whereas one party dwelt upon the natal side of the river, the other was composed of warriors of the king, the limits of whose territory they dared not overstep. "come over and fight!" challenged the latter, waving their shields. "ha! come over to us," was the answer. here was an _impasse_. brimming over with fight as they were, the first hesitated to embark on what would amount to nothing less than a raid upon english territory; for did the news of it reach the ears of the king--as it almost certainly would--why death to the whole lot of them was the least they could expect. on the other hand if the natal party could be induced to cross why they would make such an example of these amakafula--as they contemptuously called them--that the latter, for very shame's sake, would be only too careful to say nothing at all of the affair. "we leave not our land," came the answer to this after a hesitating pause. "cross ye hither, cowards. ye are more than us by two." "ah--ah! but we shall be less by more than two when we reach the bank. you will strike us in the water." "we will not," called out the spokesman on the zulu side. "you shall even have time to recover breath. is it not so, brothers?" "_eh-he_!" chorussed his followers in loud assent. "swear it." "u' tshaka!" the awful name rolled forth sonorously from every throat. an oath ratified on the name of the greatest king their world had ever known was ratified indeed. hardly had it sounded than a joyful whoop rent the air. a dozen bronze bodies flashed in the sunlight and amid a mighty splash a dozen dark heads bobbed up above the surface of the long deeply flowing reach. a moment later, and their owners had ploughed their way to the other side, and emerged streaming from the river, their shields and weapons still held aloft in the left hand, as they had been during the crossing in order to keep them dry. "we will drop our weapons, and fight only with sticks, brothers," proposed the zulu leader. "is that to be?" "as you will," returned the natal party, and immediately all assegais were cast to the ground. the place was an open glade which sloped down to the water, between high, tree-fringed rocks. both sides stood looking at each other, every chest panting somewhat with suppressed excitement. then a quick, shrill whistle from the zulu leader, and they met in full shock. it was something of a homeric strife, as these young heroes came together. there was no sound but the slap of shield meeting shield; the clash and quiver of hard wood; the quick, throaty panting of the combatants. then the heavy crunch of skull or joint, and half a dozen are down quivering or motionless, while their conquerors continue to batter them without mercy. leaping, whirling--gradually drawing away from the rest, two of the combatants are striving; each devoting every nerve, every energy, to the overthrow of the other. but each feint is met by counter feint, each terrible swinging stroke by the crash of equally hard wood or the dull slap of tough hide shield opposed in parry. already more are down, still about even numbers on each side, and still these two combatants strive on. both are tall, supple youths, perfect models of proportion and sinewy grace and strength. then a sudden crunching sound, and the blood is pouring from the head of one of them. "one to thee, son of tyingoza!" cries the wielder of the successful stroke, nimbly swerving to avoid the return one. "it was `white dog' but now," snarls the other, savagely, and with a deft underswing of his knobstick delivering a numbing blow on the side of his adversary's leg. it is a good blow, yet he is beginning to stagger, half stunned, and blinded with his own blood. "ha! give up, and run to the river, while there is time," jeers his opponent, who is the leader of the zulu party. for answer, he who is apostrophised as the son of tyingoza, rushes upon the speaker with such a sudden access of apparently resistless ferocity, that the latter is forced backward somewhat by the very fury of the onslaught; but--such are the fortunes of war. already the bulk of those who have crossed from the natal side are down, two of them stone dead-- and the rest, demoralised already, are plunging into the river and striking out for their own shore. they cannot get to the aid of their leader because of the foes who are pressing them hard, and barring their way. the said foes, now victors, thus freed, turn to spring to the aid of their own leader, and the whole group, uttering a loud bloodthirsty shout hurls itself upon the son of tyingoza. he, though he has given up all hope, still battles valorously, when a stick, deftly hurled, strikes him hard and full upon one shin, snapping the bone, and vanquished he sinks to the earth, still instinctively holding up his shield to avert the rain of blows showered upon him, and which, in a moment or so will batter his skull to a pulp; for they see red now, those blood-frenzied combatants, and no considerations of mercy will avail to stay their murderous arms. but that moment or so is destined to bring forth weighty results. there has been a spectator of the whole affray unseen by the combatants, and now he steps forth. "stand back!" he shouts, coming right between the slayers and their prey. "back, i say! he is down and ye are many. let him live." "no, he shall die. out of our way, white man!" none but a white man--or their own chief--could have restrained these hot bloods at such a moment, yet this one was determined to do it, although the process was not much safer than that of attempting to snatch a bone from a hungry mastiff. "you are boys, therefore foolish," he cried. "if you slay the son of a chief how long will it be before the english carry the word to the great great one's ears? then--good-night!" this told--as no other argument would have told. they held their hands, though some muttered that both should be slain to make things all the safer. and the white man so far had displayed no weapon. in fact he had none. "get up, son of tyingoza," he said, "and get back to thine own side of the river, which it was foolish to leave." the wounded youth managed to stagger to his feet, the white man aiding him. several of those who had fallen did likewise, the conquerors sullenly drawing off, to help their own stricken comrades. and what a scene the place presented. broken knobkerries and broken heads, battered shields and twisted limbs, and red, nauseous, sticky pools glittering among the grass. three of those fallen would never rise again. and what was it all about? nothing. absolutely nothing. "_au_! it is iqalaqala," muttered the young zulus, as the white man assisted the chief's son to cross the river. "fare thee well, iqalaqala. we have but played at a fight. _au_! it was only play." and that is how i come into the story. chapter two. godfrey glanton--trader. it was hot. away on the skyline the jagged peaks of kahlamba rose in a shimmer of haze. in front and below, the same shimmer was upon the great sweep of green and gold bush. the far winding of the tugela shone here and there through the billowy undulations of the same, and above, a gleam of silver where umzinyati's waters babbled on to join it. so, too, over the far expanse of warrior zululand--peaceful enough now to outward aspect in all conscience--the slumbrous yet far from enervating heat of mid-afternoon still brooded. yes, it was hot, decidedly hot, and i remarked thereupon to tyingoza, who agreed with me of course. every well-bred native agrees with you-- that is to say pretty well every native--and tyingoza was a well-bred native, being of umtetwa breed--the royal clan what time tshaka the usurper, tshaka the great, tshaka the genius, tshaka the terrible, shook up the dry bones and made the nation of zulu to live. incidentally tyingoza was the chief of a very large native location situated right on the border--and in this connection i have often wondered how it is that with the fear of that awful and bloodthirsty tyrant cetywayo (see the blue books) before their eyes, such a congested native population could have been found to plant itself, of its own free will, right bang within assegai throw of his "manslaying machine" (see again the blue books), that is to say, with only the division afforded by an easily fordable river between it and them. tyingoza's father had migrated from zululand what time the dutch and mpande fought dingane, and dingane fought both; for, like a wise man, he held that he could not _konza_ to three kings, and now tyingoza would have returned to his fatherland, with which all his sympathies--sentimental--lay, but for the material fact that he--and incidentally, his followers--were exceedingly comfortable where they were. "m-m!" hummed tyingoza. "in truth it is hot here, but--not over there, iqalaqala." there was a quizzical twinkle in tyingoza's eyes, as he pointed down into the valley beneath--and i understood him. the above, by the way, was my native name, meaning one who is wide awake at a deal; bestowed presumably because when i had bought out the former owner of the trading store at isipanga the guileless native had discovered rather a more difficult subject to get round than that worthy dealer; who was all too frequently in his cups, and easy to "best" while in that halcyonic condition. i did not resent the use of the sobriquet on this or any other occasion: in the first place because it was not an unflattering one; in the next because i liked tyingoza, who was a gentleman every inch of him, and--shrug not in horror, oh ye noble white brethren--in my heart of hearts i could not but recognise that this aristocratic scion of a splendid race was, taking him all round, every whit as good a man, albeit dusky, as a certain happy-go-lucky inconsequent and knockabout trader in the zulu. i understood his meaning. "over there"--_la pa_--referred to the abode of my nearest neighbour, a retired british officer, who had lived to no better experience than to imagine himself expressly cut out for a second and farming career, entered on late in life--and, i suspected, on little beyond a commuted pension, here on the natal border. he owned a comfortable homestead, and a grown-up family, including a brace of exceedingly good-looking daughters. here then was a bright and wholesome british home circle to which i, a lonely, knockabout sort of semi-barbarian, had found a welcome; and indeed, while not outwearing this, i believe i did not underrate it; for the bush path between my trading store and major sewin's farm had become far more worn and easier to be found by the unskilled stranger since its former occupant, a bankrupt and stertorous dutchman, had been obliged to evacuate it in favour of its present owner. now, as tyingoza spoke, i looked longingly down into the valley on the other side. away, where it wound beneath a towering cone, i could make out a film of smoke, and was wondering whether it was too soon after my last visit to send my horse down along the ten miles of rugged bush path between it and where we sat--in something over the hour. i could get back at midnight, or soon after, and time was no object to me in those days. i had spent enough of it among savages to have acquired something of their indifference to it. it mattered nothing what time i slept or woke. if i felt sleepy i slept, if i felt hungry i ate--if i felt neither i did neither--and that about summed up my rule of life, as, in those days, it did that of many another circumstanced like myself. but of making a point of turning in or turning out at a given time--no. i had long parted with anything of the kind; indeed the fact that there was such a thing as a watch or a clock on the place was the merest accident. tyingoza produced his snuff-box--his zulu conservatism had restrained him from learning to smoke--and handed it to me. then he helped himself. "they will not be here long," he said presently. "no? why not?" i answered, knowing to whom he referred. "their feet are planted on strange ground. they have built a house where it cannot stand. _au_! they are even as children these amangisi." i did not resent the mild suggestion--"amangisi" meaning english-- because i knew that the speaker did not include myself, practically a son of the land, using the word as applicable to the newly imported emigrant. "they do not understand the people," he went on, "nor do they try to. they treat the people as though they were soldiers under them. now, iqalaqala, will that do?" i agreed that it would not; in fact i had more than once ventured to hint as much to major sewin--but that veteran, though a dear old man, was likewise a stiff-necked one, and had not taken my well-meant advice in good part. "a nigger, sir," he had answered with heat, "is created to work. if he won't work he must be made to--and, damme, sir, i'm the man to make him." i had ventured to remind him that there were about four hundred thousand of the said "niggers" in the colony of natal, and that we stood in a precious deal more need of them than they did of us. but, as the last thing in the world i wished was to quarrel with him, i fear i did so half-heartedly. "so," now continued tyingoza, "they will have to herd their own sheep and milk their own cows themselves, for none will do it for them. will they not soon become tired of this, and go elsewhere?" this i thought more than likely, but i did not wish it. the chief's words had pretty well summed up the situation. the natal native, especially there on the zulu border, is a difficult animal to lead and nearly impossible to drive, and the hot-headed old soldier was of the sort which prefers driving. "all you say is true," i answered. "yet--we are friends, tyingoza, wherefore for my sake, use your influence with your people not to join in driving out these. i do not want them to leave. see, i am lonely here, and if i had no neighbours i might leave too." "_au_! it is difficult," was the answer. "they are like children. still for your sake, i will do what i can." we were interrupted by the appearance of two young men. their bronze figures, straight and tall, moved with easy, supple grace as they advanced to where we were seated, and, having saluted the chief with infinite respect, they squatted down at a becoming distance; for they would not interrupt our conversation. however i wanted to get rid of them, so allowing sufficient time for the requirements of etiquette, i asked them what they had come for. they answered that they were in need of a few articles such as i kept in the store, and so i took them within. i reached down from the shelves the things they required, a matter of trifles whose aggregate value hardly amounted to a shilling, and i thought as i moved thus, clad in an old shirt, and ditto pair of trousers, among green blankets and pots and kettles, and sheepskins and goatskins, with strings of beads and brass buttons festooned from the beams, and the shelves loaded with roll boer tobacco and sugar pockets and coffee canisters and butcher knives, and all sorts of minor "notions" in demand for native trade--i wondered, i say, what sort of figure i should cut in the eyes of major sewin's highbred looking daughters should they happen suddenly to ride up and thus discover me; then i wondered why the deuce i should have thought about it at all. the boys were soon satisfied, and i gave them a bit of tobacco apiece by way of clenching the deal, for it is bad policy to earn a name for stinginess among natives. but instead of going away they squatted themselves down outside. i did not immediately follow them. "what was i saying, iqalaqala?" began tyingoza, as soon as i did. "the ingisi down there is clearly anxious to herd his own sheep himself. these children he has sent away, saying they were of no use. but, you may hear from themselves. speak." thus ordered, the two, squatting there, told their tale over again, and it did not take long in telling. they had been employed to herd sheep, and that morning the major's "son"--as they described him--had ridden up to them in the veldt, and had become very angry about something; what it was they had no notion for they could not understand one word he said, which seemed to anger him still more, for he had cuffed one of them over the head and kicked him. one thing he was able to make them understand and this was that they should clear off the place. they had done so, but neither of them were pleased, as was natural; indeed there was that in the face of the cuffed and kicked one, which savoured of vindictiveness, and was a clear indication that sooner or later, and in some shape or form, the ill-advised settler would have to pay somewhat dearly for that act of violence. i smoothed matters down as far as i was able: pointing out, i hoped with some tact, that they were young, and a little roughness now and then must be expected to come their way--it was not as if they had attained the dignity of head-ringed men--and so forth. they appeared to accept it, but i'm afraid they did not. "what is thy name?" i said to the aggrieved youth. "atyisayo." "ha! atyisayo! meaning hot. hot water," i rejoined. "well you have got into hot water, as the proverb runs among us whites--as we all do sooner or later especially when we are young. but we get out of it again, and so have you, and you must think no more about it," i concluded. "m-m! but he has not paid us anything. the ingisi has sent us away without our hire." "he will give it you. he is hot tempered but not a cheat. you will have it. i myself will see to that. _hambani gahle_." "iqalaqala is our father," they murmured, rising to leave. "_amakosi_! _hlalani gahle_!" i watched their receding forms, and shook my head. then i looked at tyingoza. "it is a pity," i said. "yes, a great pity. these people down there are good people--yes, even of the best of the land. it is only that they lack understanding, yet even that will come--with experience. i will go and talk again with them--yes--this very evening. come with me, tyingoza. your words as a chief will carry much weight, and these people will treat you with consideration." he answered something about having to go home and see about some new cattle that were being sent in to him. then with a waggish expression of countenance he said: "_au_! iqalaqala. when are you going to build a new hut?" the joke was obvious. i did not live in the trading store but in a large, well-built native hut adjoining; as being cooler, and free from the mingled odours of the varying commodities in which i dealt. when a native sends _lobola_ for a new wife he has a new and additional hut built for her accommodation. tyingoza was chaffing me. i called out an order to my native boy, whose quarters were at the back of the store. presently he came trotting up, bearing a steaming kettle, and cups, and sugar. tyingoza's face lit up at the sight. he had a weakness for strong black coffee, abundantly sweetened, and when he came to see me always got it, and plenty of it. so for another half-hour he sat imbibing the stuff, completely happy. then he got up to go. i bade him farewell, reminding him again of our conversation and his influence with his people; the while, he smiled quizzically, and i knew that his mind was still running upon his joke as to the new hut. then i went into the old one, and carefully, and for me, somewhat elaborately, changed my attire, what time my boy was saddling up my best horse. i went to no pains in locking up, for was not tyingoza my friend, and his people dusky savages, who wore no trousers--only _mutyas_; in short the very people to whom we are most anxious to send missionaries. chapter three. of an evening visit. as i rode down the rugged bush path i began to undergo a very unwonted and withal uneasy frame of mind. for instance what on earth had possessed me to take such an interest in the well-being or ill-being of major sewin and his family? they would never get on as they were. the best thing they could do was to throw it up and clear, and, for themselves, the sooner the better. and for me? well, exactly. it was there that the uneasiness came in. the sun was dipping to the great bush-clad ridge up the side of the tugela valley, and the wide sweep of forest beneath was alight with a golden glow from the still ardent horizontal shafts. innumerable doves fluttered and cooed around, balancing themselves on mimosa sprays, or the spiky heads of the plumed euphorbia; or dashing off to wing an arrow-like flight somewhere else, alarmed by the tread of horse-hoofs or the snort and champ at a jingling bit. here and there a spiral of blue smoke, where a native kraal in its neat circle stood pinnacled upon the jut of some mighty spur, and the faint far voices of its inhabitants raised in musical cattle calls, came, softened by distance, a pleasing and not unmelodious harmony with the evening calm. downward and downward wound the path, and lo, as the sun kissed the far ridge, ere diving beyond it, a final and parting beam shot full upon the face of a great krantz, causing it to flush in red flame beneath the gold and green glow of its forest fringed crest. all those evenings! i think it must be something in their sensuous and magic calm that permeates the soul of those whose lot has once been cast in these lands, riveting it in an unconscious bondage from which it can never quite free itself; binding it for all time to the land of its birth or adoption. i, for one, godfrey glanton, rough and ready prosaic trader in the zulu, with no claim to sentiment or poetry in my composition, can fully recognise that the bond is there. and yet, and yet--is there a man living, with twenty years' experience of a wandering life, now in this, now in that, section of this wonderful half continent, who can honestly say he has no poetry in him? i doubt it. the wild guinea fowl were cackling away to their roosts and the shrill crow of francolins miauw-ed forth from the surrounding brake as i dismounted to open a gate in the bush fence which surrounded what the major called his "compound." as i led my horse on--it was not worth while remounting--a sound of voices--something of a tumult of voices, rather--caught my ear. "good heavens! another row!" i said to myself. "what impossible people these are!" for i had recognised an altercation, and i had recognised the voices. one was that of the major's nephew, and it was raised in fine old british imprecation. the other was that of a native, and was volubly expostulative--in its own tongue. then i came in view of their owners, and heard at the same time another sound--that of a hard smack, followed by another. for background to the scene the fence and gate of a sheep-kraal. the native was a youth, similar to those who had called at my store that afternoon. unarmed he was no sort of match for the powerful and scientific onslaught of his chastiser. he had nimbly skipped out of harm's way and was volubly pouring forth abuse and threats of vengeance. "what on earth--are you at it again, sewin?" i sung out. "great scott, man, you'll never keep a boy on the place at this rate! what's the row this time?" "hallo glanton! that you? row? only that when i tell this cheeky silly idiot to do anything he stands and grins and doesn't do it. so i went for him." the tailing off of the remark was not quite suitable for publication, so i omit it. "that all he did?" i said, rather shortly, for i was out of patience with this young fool. "all? isn't that enough? damn his cheek! what business has he to grin at me?" "well you wouldn't have had him scowl, would you?" "i'd have hammered him to pulp if he had." "just so. you may as well give up all idea of farming here at this rate, sewin, if you intend to keep on on that tack. the fellow didn't do it, because in all probability he hadn't the ghost of a notion what you were telling him to do. here. i'll put it to him." i did so. it was even as i had expected. the boy didn't understand a word of english, and young sewin couldn't speak a word of zulu--or at any rate a sentence. i talked to him, but it was not much use. he would leave, he declared. he was not going to stand being punched. if he had had an assegai or a stick perhaps the other would not have had things all his own way, he added meaningly. in secret i sympathised with him, but did not choose to say so. what i did say was: "and you would spend some years--in chains--mending the roads and quarrying stones for the government? that would be a poor sort of satisfaction, would it not?" "_au_! i am not a dog," he answered sullenly. "tyingoza is my chief. but if the government says i am to stand being beaten i shall cross umzinyati this very night, and go and _konza_ to cetywayo. now, this very night." i advised him to do nothing in a hurry, because anything done in a hurry was sure to be badly done. i even talked him over to the extent of making him promise that he would not leave at all, at any rate until he had some fresh grievance--which i hoped to be able to ensure against. "come on in, glanton," sung out young sewin, impatiently. "or are you going to spend the whole evening jawing with that infernal young sweep. i suppose you're taking his part." this was pretty rough considering the pains i had been at to smooth the way for these people in the teeth of their own pig-headed obstinacy. but i was not going to quarrel with this cub. "on the contrary," i said, "i was taking yours, in that i persuaded the boy not to clear out, as he was on the point of doing." "did you? well then, glanton, you won't mind my saying that it's a pity you did. d'you think we're going to keep any blasted nigger here as a favour on his part?" "answer me this," i said. "are you prepared to herd your own sheep--_slaag_ them, too--milk your own cows, and, in short, do every darn thing there is to be done on the farm yourselves?" "of course not. but i don't see your point. the country is just swarming with niggers. if we kick one off the place, we can easily get another. just as good fish in the sea, eh?" "are there? this colony contains about four hundred thousand natives-- rather more than less--and if you go on as you're doing, sewin, you'll mighty soon find that not one of those four hundred thousand will stay on your place for love or money. not only that, but those around here'll start in to make things most unpleasantly lively for you. they'll _slaag_ your sheep and steal your cattle--and you'll find it too hot altogether to stay. now you take my advice and go on a new tack altogether." "mr glanton's quite right, falkner," said a clear voice from the verandah above us--for we had reached the house now, only in the earnestness of our discussion we had not noticed the presence of anybody. "he has told us the same thing before, and i hope he will go on doing so until it makes some impression." "oh, as to that, miss sewin," i said, idiotically deprecatory, as the major's eldest daughter came forward to welcome me, "i am only trying to make my experience of service to you." "i don't know what we should have done without it," she answered, in that sweet and gracious way of hers that always made me feel more or less a fool. in outward aspect she was rather tall, with an exceeding gracefulness of carriage. her face, if it lacked colour perhaps, was very regular and refined; and would light up in the sweetest possible of smiles. she had grey eyes, large and well-lashed, and her abundant hair was arranged in some wonderful manner, which, while free from plaits and coils, always looked far more becoming than any amount of dressing by a fashionable hairdresser could have rendered it. but there you are. what do i, a prosaic trader in the zulu, for all my experience of border and up-country matters, know about such things? so you must take my plain impressions as i give them. it seemed to me that falkner sewin's face had taken on an unpleasant, not to say scowling expression, at his cousin's remarks, and he had turned away to hide it. he was a personable young fellow enough, tall and well set-up, and muscular; handsome too, with a square, determined chin. he had been a few years in the army, where he had much better have remained, for he seemed to have qualified for civil life by a superlative arrogance, and an overweening sense of his own importance; both doubtless valuable to the accompaniment of jingling spurs and the clank of scabbards, but worse than useless for farming purposes on the natal border. towards myself he had begun by adopting a patronising attitude, which, however, he had soon dropped. the house was a single storied one, surrounded on three sides by a verandah. a large and newly made garden reached round two sides of it, and away, at the further end of this, i could see the residue of the family, occupied with watering-pots, and other implements of the kind. it was a bright and pleasant spot was this garden, and its colour and sweet odours always conveyed a soothing effect, to my mind, at any rate; for little time or inclination had i for the cultivation of mere flowers. a patch or two of mealies or _amabele_, in a roughly schoffeled-up "land" was about the extent of any "gardening" i allowed myself; wherefore this amazing blend of colour and scent appealed to me all the more. "take that chair, mr glanton," miss sewin went on, pointing to a large cane chair on the verandah. "you must have had a hot ride. falkner, you might see that mr glanton's horse is looked after. call one of the boys and have him taken round and fed. the others are somewhere down in the garden, mr glanton. you know, my father is just wild on getting up a garden here. it occupies his time nearly the whole day long." "and very well he has done with it hitherto, miss sewin," i answered heartily. "it is a pleasure to see it. you know, we rough knockabouts haven't much time for that sort of thing. but we appreciate it, or its results, all the more when we see them." "but don't you ever feel inclined to make things bright and pretty about your place?" she went on. "i should have thought you could have managed to find an hour or two a day. or are you always so very busy up there?" i felt guilty, as i remembered how i was prevented, not by lack of time but inclination: my spare time being occupied mainly by taking it easy, and smoking pipes and chatting with any chance natives who happened along; or it might be, sneaking about in the thick bushy kloofs to get a shot at a buck. but i answered, somewhat lamely: "oh, as to that, it isn't exactly a matter of time. the fact is, miss sewin, we get into certain habits of life, and can't get out of them in a hurry. i suppose a knockabout like myself gets all the taste for the fine arts knocked out of him. and the art of laying out gardens is one of the fine arts." she looked at me, i thought, with something of interest in her wide eyes. then she said: "ah, but, you knockabouts--your own word remember, mr glanton--" she interjected, with a smile, "are, or ought to be, among the most useful men a country like this can produce. you are constantly in touch with the savages by whom we are surrounded. you know their ways and their thoughts and all about them, and your knowledge cannot but be invaluable to your fellow-countrymen." i felt pleased. she had a way of what i will call for want of a better expression--smoothing you down the right way. i said: "but these savages, miss sewin. believe me, they are not half bad fellows at bottom if you take them the right way. you haven't got to go very far down to find them so, either." "and we take them the wrong way, isn't that what you mean?" she answered, with another of her somewhat disturbing smiles. "i believe you are quite right--in fact i know you are--and i am always saying so. but, here are the others. i hope you will keep on telling them the same thing, over and over again until they see it themselves, if it isn't too late." "i will. but you? you yourself. don't you find this rough country and rough life a sadly different thing to what you had expected?" i said. "not `sadly' different. on the contrary, it is full of interest. to begin with, these same savages interest me immensely. i should like to learn their language. is it easy?" "to tell the truth i don't know whether it is or not. i didn't _learn_ it, myself. i sort of absorbed it. but i can tell you it makes all the difference in the world if you can talk with them and understand them or not. if you can i can't imagine any people more easy to get on with." "then i will begin to learn it at once. you will help me, won't you, mr glanton?" great heavens! what was this? i began to see all over the world, as if my head was screwed on all ways at once. would i help her? oh, wouldn't i! here was a bond of union set up between us--one that would afford me ample pretext for riding over here very often: that would bring us together often and constantly. it seemed as if a new and very bright world had opened in front of me--and yet and yet--what an utter fool i was--i, godfrey glanton, prosaic knockabout trader in the zulu, and not a particularly young one at that! chapter four. my neighbour's household. "ha, glanton! glad to see you!" cried the major, shaking me heartily by the hand. "why, i was beginning to wonder when we should see you again. was afraid you had started again on some up-country trip, and by jove, there are one or two things i want your opinion about. we'll talk of them bye and bye." "all right, major. only too glad to be of use." he was a fine specimen of the best type of old soldier--tall, straight, handsome, hearty and straightforward in manner--in short a gentleman every inch of him. i had a great liking for him, and for his own sake alone would have gone far towards smoothing his difficulties and straightening things out for him no matter how crooked they might be, thanks to his own wrongheadedness. his wife was a good counterpart of him--without his wrongheadedness--and quite free from the fads and fussiness apparently inseparable from most elderly ladies, which render their presence and company a matter for resigned toleration rather than any sort of pleasure or advantage. to such mrs sewin was a rare and remarkable exception. the youngest daughter, edith, was outwardly a complete contrast to her stately sister, being shorter, and plump and fair-haired, but very pretty--and sunny-natured to a degree. in fact i believe that to most men she would have proved the more attractive of the two. "have a glass of grog, glanton, after your ride," said the major. "well, and how's trade?" "so so. much as usual. i'm thinking of a couple of months' trip to the north of zululand soon. i might pick up some good cattle in hamu's and majendwa's part, and zulu oxen always find a good sale." "into zululand?" repeated falkner, who had just entered. "by jove, glanton, i'd like to go with you. wouldn't i just." i hope i didn't show that i wouldn't like anything of the sort. i may have, for i was never a good actor, except in dealing with savages. "that wouldn't be impossible," i answered. "but what about the farm?" i read "hang the farm!" as plain as possible in his face, though he hadn't said it. what he did say was: "oh well. we might think out some plan so as to work it." "you must have had some very exciting adventures among the savages in your time, mr glanton," said mrs sewin. "the liveliest adventures i have ever had were among white men, and not among savages at all," i answered. "but there, you must excuse me filling the role of the up-country yarner." "mr glanton is most provokingly and proverbially impossible to `draw,' you know, mother," said miss sewin, with a laugh and a shake of the head. "that's more than most fellows in his line are," guffawed falkner, in a way that was rather unpleasant, and, i thought, intentionally so, as he helped himself to a glass of grog. "come and have a look round the garden, glanton," said the major. "we sha'n't get dinner for nearly an hour, and it'll help fill up the time. you girls coming?" "aida, you go," said the youngest. "mother and i will see about getting dinner ready." dusk was already beginning to fall, and there isn't much dusk in that latitude. the scents of evening were in the air, the myriad distilling perfumes from the surrounding bush no less fragrant to my nostrils than those of the sweet-scented flowers which represented the major's favourite hobby; but this, you may be sure, i did not tell him. but to me it was an enchanted hour and an enchanted scene, as i furtively watched the tall graceful figure at my side, noting each changing attitude, from the poise of the well-set-on head to the delicate tapering fingers put forth to handle, or here and there pluck some blossom. the while i was listening to the old man's enthusiastic dissertations, trying not to agree in the wrong place; trying, in short, to look as if i knew something about it all, yet not altogether succeeding, i fear, as i became aware when i caught the glance of miss sewin's eyes, and the smile upon her sweet, half-averted face. then the stars came out with a rush, and the jackals began to bay along the hillside in the gloom of the bush. "confound it!" grumbled the major, looking upward. "it's dark already; pitch dark, by jove! and glanton hasn't seen half what i've been doing yet, since he was here last. you get no twilight at all in this infernal country. well, i suppose we must go in." nothing could be more pleasant and home-like than that cheerful, lighted room, as we sat at table. we talked about the country and surroundings, the life and its drawbacks, and the major waxed reminiscent on byegone sport in india, and his anecdotes thereon interested me though i fear the others had heard them more than once before. falkner was inclined to be extra friendly and had discarded his usual offhand and supercilious manner, which i own was wont to try my patience sorely, and questioned me repeatedly as to my projected trip into zululand, to which i had incidentally referred. afterwards the two girls played and sang-- uncommonly well. falkner too, sang a very good song or two, and altogether i found i was thoroughly enjoying myself, the said enjoyment being doubtless enhanced by an obtruding recollection of my lonely hut, away up the mountain, and evenings spent in my own company until such time as i should smoke myself to sleep. "mr glanton, we would so much like to see your trading store," said edith, the youngest girl, when the music was ended. i answered that there was little on earth to see there, that it was a greasy, dusty place, hardly fit for ladies, and so on, but that such as it was they would be more than welcome. "and you will show us some zulus for the occasion?" added her sister, with one of those glances which made me resolve to assemble half tyingoza's location if she set her heart upon it. "well, yes," i said. "only you mustn't take me by surprise. it's a rough and tumble place, and i might be taken just at the very moment when i couldn't offer you a decent lunch." but they declared that this was just what they wanted--to take me by surprise, and see exactly how i lived, and so on. the while a desperate idea had come into my head, but, would it bear carrying out? "look here," i said. "if you would really like to ride up there, it occurs to me i might show you something that would interest you--nothing to do with the store particularly. but i could collect a lot of tyingoza's people and scare up a regular native dance. they do it well, and it's worth seeing, i can tell you." "why that would be charming," cried the youngest girl. "aida, we must go. do you hear? father, what do you think? let's all go, and make a day of it." "i was going to venture yet further, major," i said. "i was going to suggest that you make a night of it. there's my hut--it's very cool and comfortable--and i have a capital tent waggon. if the ladies could make shift with such by way of sleeping quarters, why we could turn in under a blanket in the store. it isn't a luxurious bedroom, but i daresay, for one night, a couple of soldiers like yourselves could manage." "rather," cried falkner enthusiastically. "that's a ripping idea of yours, glanton. what d'you think, uncle? shall we fix up a day? no time like the present." "well, i think the idea isn't a bad one, if we are not putting you out, glanton. but--what about the farm? we can't leave it entirely to itself." this certainly was a difficulty. i thought for a moment; then i said: "i might be able to straighten that for you, major. i will send you down a man--a native, one of tyingoza's people, but as trustworthy as steel. you know, most of them are that way if put in a position of trust. well you needn't be afraid of anything going wrong--stocklifting and that--while he's in charge. how's that?" "capital!" went up from the girls. "you seem to `straighten' everything for us, mr glanton," said the eldest, gratefully. "well this is a very small thing after all," i protested. "i'm only afraid you will find the quarters a bit rough." but this they declared was nothing. it only remained to fix the day. they would enjoy it above all things, they repeated. "you'll have the same room as last time, mr glanton," said mrs sewin, as she bade me good-night. "why, i was just thinking of going home," i protested. but this was over-ruled, and that unanimously. the major wanted to have a talk with me, and couldn't do it comfortably if i was in a hurry to be off all the time. besides--what did it matter? nobody would be wanting to do a deal during the night, so i might just as well remain where i was, and so on. well, i didn't want much pressing, and it was obvious my welcome hadn't worn thin just yet. "let's take the grog out on to the stoep, uncle," said falkner. "it's cooler there." "what d'you think, glanton?" said the major, when we were comfortably seated outside, each with a glass of grog before him and a pipe of good magaliesberg--than which there is no better tobacco in the world--in full blast. "why is it i can't do anything with these damned fellows of yours? now in india i could make any sort of native do anything i wanted, and no bother about it. he had to, don't you know." "exactly, major, he had to and these haven't. wherein lies all the difference." "i believe i was a damned fool to come and squat here at all," he growled. "i don't agree with you, major," i said. "you've only got to try and understand them, and they're all right. i don't mean to say they're perfect, no one is, but make the best of them. to begin with, learn the language." "good lord, i'm too old to begin learning languages." "not a bit of it," i said. "i knew a man once--he must have been about your age, major, an old indian, too, only he had been a civilian--who had gone stone blind late in life. but he had a hobby for languages, and i'm blest if he hadn't taken up this one among others. he had got hold of the bible in zulu, done up by missionaries of course, and began putting all sorts of grammar cases to me. i own he fairly stumped me. i told him i didn't know anything of biblical zulu--had always found that in use at the kraals good enough. then he had the crow over me. but you ought to have a try at it, certainly your nephew ought." "by jove, i believe i will," growled falkner. "only it'd be an infernal grind." "not much more grind than punching a boy's head because he can't understand you," i said, "especially when the weather's hot; and far more profitable. still i can rather enter into your feelings. the feeling of helplessness when we can't make out what the other fellow is talking about is prone to engender irritability. i was not guiltless myself in that line when i first went up-country. you set to work. miss sewin was saying this evening that she intended to." "oh was she?" growled falkner again, with renewed interest, and the glance he gave me was not at all friendly, i thought. "well, you take my tip, major, and then i don't think you'll at all regret coming here. no, by jove, i don't." "you don't, eh? well i'm getting up a first-rate garden certainly. and the shooting around here isn't bad of its kind." i hugged myself, metaphorically. less than ever, by the experiences of a few hours, did i wish these people to give up in disgust. chapter five. a disappearance and a revel. "what is this about nyakami?" "u' nyakami? is he dead?" answered tyingoza, pausing with his snuff-spoon in mid air. "that is what some would like to know," i went on. "but they have not found him yet." i had named, by his native name, a neighbour of mine, who farmed some way down the river. though in actual fact he was rather too far off to be termed exactly a neighbour. his real and british name was hensley, and he had disappeared. sounds strange, doesn't it, and it certainly was. people don't disappear in natal like they do in london, or any other large and civilised city, least of all highly respectable and fairly substantial colonists, of which hensley was one. but this man had, and the strangest part of it was that he had not only disappeared but had done so leaving no trace. not only that, but no one could be found who could swear to having been the last to see him. he lived alone, and was an ordinary type of the frontier stock farmer. he was fairly prosperous and there was no reason on earth why he should have taken himself out of the way. no reason on earth was there either why he should have been put out of the way. he was on good terms with the natives, could always get plenty of servants, and so on. no, there was no reason in the world for his disappearance, yet he had disappeared--how and when nobody seemed to have the faintest idea. the news had reached me through native sources, as a large portion of my news did. indeed it is hardly credible the quantity i used to learn about my neighbours in this way; some of whom would have been mightily disconcerted could they have guessed that i, or anybody else, had an inkling of anything of the sort. the natal mounted police had been investigating, but neither they nor their native detectives had been able to lay hand on the slightest clue. the man might have been caught up to heaven at midnight for all there was to show what had become of him. "not found him yet?" echoed tyingoza, when he had absorbed his snuff. "_au_! he will find himself. men are strange, iqalaqala, especially white men. and this one--if he wants to disappear why should he not?" "wants to disappear? but this one has no reason to want anything of the kind. some men might, but this one not. you know him, tyingoza, as well as i. what do you think?" there was a comical twinkle in the chief's eyes. he merely answered: "who can think in such a case?" obviously there was nothing to be got out of tyingoza--as yet--so i left the subject. in fact i had a far more interesting subject on my mind just then, for this was the day the sewins had fixed upon for their visit to me, and so i fell to discussing with the chief the arrangements which were to be made for their entertainment. he had promised that a goodly number of his people should muster, and i had promised them cattle to kill in proportion to the number that would require feasting. this ought to ensure a very good roll up indeed. the disappearance of hensley was to me a very secondary matter to-day. by the way, i was in a state of fidget absolutely unwonted with me; and my "boy" tom simply gaped with astonishment at the thorough turn-out i made him give my hut; and when i fetched a roll of salampore cloth to hang around the walls so as to conceal the grass thatching i could see that he was entertaining considerable doubts as to his master's sanity. he would have entertained even graver doubts could he have witnessed a still further stage of imbecility into which i lapsed. i found myself looking in the glass--not for ordinary purposes of toilet, be it noted, and i have set out upon this narrative determined to spare none of my own weaknesses, but because i was anxious to see what sort of fellow i looked--and i don't know that i felt particularly flattered by the result; for, confound it, i was no longer in my first youth, and a face bronzed and roughened by twenty years of knocking about, struck me as nothing particularly attractive to the other sex. yet it was only the roughness of weather and more or less hard times that had told upon it, for i had always been rather abstemious and had set my face like a flint against the wild roaring sprees that some of my friends in the same line were prone to indulge in. if i had not the "clean run" look of falkner sewin, my eye was every whit as clear and i had a trifle the advantage of him in height, and held myself quite as straight. no, it was absurd to try and start comparisons with sewin, who was quite ten years younger, and had never known any hardening experiences, so i turned from the looking-glass imprecating one godfrey glanton as a silly ass, who had much better trek away right up-country and stay there altogether. and this idea was the first intimation that i had returned to sanity again. my guests arrived earlier than i had expected, somewhere in the middle of the afternoon to wit, and the first thing they did was to reproach me for having put myself out for them so as they called it. "i warned you there was nothing particular to see, didn't i?" i said, as i showed them the inside of the store. "but i think there is," declared miss sewin, gazing around at the various "notions" disposed along the shelves or hanging about from the beams. "and how tidy you keep it all. ah--" as an idea struck her, "i believe you have had it all put ship-shape for the occasion. confess now, mr glanton, haven't you?" "well, you know, it's a sort of general holiday, so of course things are a little more ship-shape than usual," i answered. "ah, but the fun would have been to have taken you by surprise, when you were in the thick of it. how is it there are no natives here to-day?" "they'll roll up directly for the fun this evening. i expect quite a lot of them." "are they hard at a deal?" she went on, still gazing with interest at the trade goods. "do they haggle much?" "haggle? rather! haggle like any italian. only they're much more difficult to bring down. but, won't you come round now and have tea? i've had a waggon sail rigged up for shade because i thought you'd prefer it outside." the ladies were delighted, and i will own in candour that there didn't seem to be anything wanting, if about four kinds of biscuits; and rolls, white and fresh, done on a gridiron; some very excellent tinned jam; butter and potted meats; tea and coffee, and for us men a decanter of first-rate boer brandy--contributed a sufficient afternoon tea. "so this is the `roughing it' you warned us against, mr glanton?" laughed mrs sewin, who was pouring out. "why, it is luxury, positive luxury." "but it's a great occasion," i answered. "major, have a glass of grog after your ride." "well, that's no bad idea. capital stuff this," holding up his glass. "so it is," pronounced falkner, tossing off his. "here's luck, glanton. by jove, you've got an uncommonly snug crib up here. hanged if it don't feel like turning zulu trader myself." "and if tyingoza came here rather often, and stuck here a little longer than you wanted, how long would it be before you started to kick him off the place?" "oh, not long, i expect," answered falkner equably, amid the general laugh at his expense. "quite so. then from that, moment you might as well shut up shop." "isn't this tyingoza the chief of the location?" asked miss sewin. "yes. he was here this morning." "oh, i should like to see him." "you shall," i answered. "he's sure to be here to-night. if not i'll send over for him the first thing in the morning. he's a great friend of mine." falkner guffawed. "friend of yours! oh, i say now, glanton. a nigger!" "all serene, sewin. i've known quite as fine fellows in their way among `niggers' as you call them--as among white men. strange, isn't it? but, fact, for all that." "now i come to think of it," said the major, "i've noticed that the men i've met over here, who have large experience of natives, invariably speak well of them." i rejoiced that the old man was coming to his senses on that point, because there was less likelihood of him getting disgusted with and leaving the neighbourhood. "you have a perfectly lovely view from here, at any rate," said miss sewin, when he had debated the oft-threshed-out question a little further. "how black and jagged the drakensberg peaks look over there. and so that is zululand?" turning to the expanse beyond the tugela. "by jove!" said the major. "it strikes me we are pretty much at cetywayo's mercy, right on the border as we are." "if you're never at the mercy of anybody worse, you won't have cause for uneasiness, major," i said. "as long as he's let alone he'll let us alone. there isn't a native chief in the whole of africa who is less likely to molest us in any way." "and are these people round you zulus, mr glanton?" went on miss sewin, her beautiful eyes wide open as she gazed forth upon the country that had awakened her interest. "yes. those on the immediate border here, tyingoza's people, and two or three more of the large locations along the river. further in they are made up of all sorts of the tribes originally inhabiting what is now natal. ah! do you hear that? here come some of them at any rate." "yes. they are singing, and quite well too." i looked at her as she stood listening; her beautiful face lit up with animation, and, i must admit, i was enjoying the position of host and entertainer to her. "but now, if there was a war with cetywayo," struck in the major, "would these people go over to him or stand by us?" "well that would depend on how our forces behaved at first. sentimentally their sympathies would be with him, but then a savage is pre-eminently a practical animal, major, with a hard keen eye to the side on which his bread is buttered, and that would tell. look now, here they come." all eyes were turned with interest, as a body of natives emerged from the bush about a quarter of a mile from my store. they were a good bit got up, and wore feather adornments and tufts of cow-tails round leg and arm. they carried the _isihlangu_, or large war shield, instead of the small _irau_, or dancing shield, they usually moved about with, and the quiver of assegai hafts kept time with the tread of feet and the deep sonorous thunder of their marching song. in number they were about a hundred. "that's all right," i said gleefully. "i told tyingoza to turn them out in good form, and he has." "why, they're splendid," pronounced miss sewin, as they drew near, making a brave show with their multi-coloured shields, and the gleam of assegais in the afternoon sun, and i delighted to watch her animated face and kindling eyes, as the whole body marched up to where we stood, and halting suddenly with weapons lowered and right hand uplifted, chorussed forth one deep-voiced word of salute: "_amakosi_!" [chiefs.] i went forward and spoke to them. most of them i knew personally or by sight. they were all young men and unringed, and in high glee at the prospect of an abundant beef feast. and it would be an abundant one, for were it to run to half my herd, i was determined to stint nothing to render the entertainment complete on this occasion. hardly had they withdrawn to the place i had pointed out and squatted themselves upon the ground than a sound of singing was heard from another quarter and soon a second company came in sight likewise bravely got up, and then another, till i reckoned there must be something over three hundred of them. the ladies were delighted, and pronounced it well worth coming to see: so was i, because they were. "i say though," said falkner, "to be serious, isn't this rather--well, injudicious, glanton? these fellows are all fully armed you know, and we--" i laughed. "look here, sewin," i said. "supposing you were taken to a review, in france or germany say--would you feel any misgivings because the troops were fully armed?" "that's all very well, but these are savages you know. and the ladies--" "--have no misgiving at all, falkner," struck in miss sewin serenely. "if all the savages in zululand were here, i, for one, would feel perfectly safe with mr glanton." "hullo, glanton. bow your acknowledgments," cried falkner, in a tone whose would-be geniality could not disguise a sneer. "well, i was not speaking on my own account." "of course you weren't, sewin," i answered, anxious to avert any unpleasant feeling. "and now, if the ladies will excuse me for a little i must go and look out some cows for these fellows to kill. for the next hour they will exchange their picturesqueness for the decidedly reverse of the slaughter yard. by the way you might like to come along, sewin." he jumped at the suggestion, but the major preferred to remain where he was. mrs sewin said they would get through the time getting out their things and arranging their quarters for the night. "i should think it'll make a hole in your cattle kraal," he said as we strolled over. "not a big one. i sha'n't give them the pick of the herd of course." we strolled round to the kraal. my cattle herd was there and we proceeded to turn out the half dozen beasts i had selected for slaughter. a number of my guests had crowded up. they had discarded their shields, but were handling assegais in a manner that was highly anticipatory. "stand back," i cried noting a desire to crowd up. "a few will be sufficient." but all were anxious to make one of that few, and by the time the doomed animals had reached the appointed place, chosen for being well out of sight--and scent--of the house, a rush was made upon them. half the number were down at once, deftly assegaied; the remaining three however careered away, two wounded, and streaming with blood--the other untouched. then ensued something akin to a buffalo hunt. with yells and whoops the excited savages bounded in pursuit, but even their speed and agility was not enough to turn the terrified and maddened animals, and had not a fresh crowd raced forward to head them they would have got away into the bush. now two were promptly transfixed with half a dozen deftly hurled assegais in each, but the last, hardly touched, charged like lightning through its encompassing destroyers, and came straight back to the kraal, and, incidentally, for falkner sewin, who had left me to follow on and see the racket. "look out!" i roared. "look out, sewin! run, man, for your life!" if he had taken my warning in time, all would have been well; but for some reason or other--i suspect cussedness--he did not. the cow, a red one, with sharp needle-like horns, now thoroughly maddened by the riot and the blood, and the sharp dig of more than one badly aimed spear, put down her head, and charged straight for falkner. i snatched an assegai from a young zulu who was standing by me watching the fun, and rushed forward, and none too soon, for now falkner was in full flight; the savage animal, head lowered, and throwing the foam from her mouth, and "twilling" hideously, was gaining upon him at the rate of two steps to one. it was now or never. as she shot past me i let go the assegai. it was a tense moment that--between when the long shaft left my hand and half buried itself in the side of the cow. but the throw was a right true one. the keen, tapering blade had bitten right into the heart, and the maddened beast plunged heavily forward to lie in a moment, dead and still, and at the sight a great roar of applause went up from the excited savages, who while trooping back from their unsuccessful chase had been delightedly watching this its termination. chapter six. further festivity. "near thing that," i said. "near thing? by jove, i believe you!" echoed falkner, who had halted, considerably out of wind and temper; the latter not improved by certain scarcely smothered and half-averted laughs which escaped some of the spectators. "why i do believe the infernal sweeps are having the grin of me," he added, scowling at them. "we'll enter into the joke yourself, just as you would have done if it had been some other fellow. that would have struck you as funny, eh? and this strikes them. they don't mean anything by it." "oh well, i suppose not," he growled, and i felt relieved, for he was quite capable of kicking up some silly row then and there, which would have been unpleasant, if not worse. "let's go back," i suggested. "the noble savage engaged in the most congenial occupation of his heart, that of butchery, is not seen at his best." "i should think not. look at those fellows over there. why they're beginning on the stuff raw. nasty beggars!" "there are certain tit-bits they like that way, just as we do our snipe and woodcock and teal--or say we do." in truth the groups engaged upon each carcase were not pleasant to the eye--although thoroughly enjoying themselves--and we left them. "i say, glanton, though," he went on, "i believe i came devilish near getting badly mauled by that beastly cow. the nigger who ripped in that assegai did so in the nick of time. i'd like to give him half-a-crown." "hand over then, sewin. here's the nigger." "what? you?" "me." "but the beast was going full bat." "well, a cow's a good big target even at twenty yards," i said. he whistled. "by jove! _i_ couldn't have done it." for once i was able to agree with him. we had dinner in the open, under the waggon sail which i had rigged up as shelter from the sun, and which now did duty to give shelter from the dew. "i'm afraid it's all game fare to-night, mrs sewin," i said. "this is roast bush-buck haunch, and that unsightly looking pot there beside the major contains a regular up-country game stew. i rather pride myself on it, and it holds five different kinds of birds, besides bacon, and odd notions in the way of pepper, etc." "and that's what you call roughing it," was the answer. "why, it looks simply delicious." "by jove, glanton, we must get the recipe from you," said the major when he had sampled it. "i never ate anything so good in my life." tom and another boy in the background, were deft when help was required, and i know that if anybody ever enjoyed their dinner my guests did on that occasion. and upon my word they might well have done so, for trust an old up-country man for knowing how to make the best of the products of the veldt; and the best is very good indeed. and as we partook of this, by the light of a couple of waggon lanterns, slung from the poles of our improvised tent, the surroundings were in keeping. on the open side lay a panorama rapidly growing more and more dim as the stars began to twinkle forth, a sweep of darkening country of something like fifty or sixty miles, reaching away in the far distance beyond the blood river, on the left, and immediately in front, beyond the tugela, the wooded river bank and open plains and rocky hills of zululand. then, suffusing the far horizon like the glow of some mighty grass fire, the great disc of a broad full moon soared redly upward, putting out the stars. "now this is what i call uncommonly jolly," pronounced the major, leaning back in his chair, and blowing out the first puffs of his after dinner pipe. "hear--hear!" sung out falkner. and then, warmed up into a glow of generosity by a good dinner and plenty of grog, i'm blest if the fellow didn't trot out quite a yarn about the cow chevying him and my timely assegai throw; whereupon there was a disposition to make a hero of me on the spot. "pooh! the thing was nothing at all," i objected. "an everyday affair, if you're working with unbroken cattle." yet there was one face which expressed more than the others, expressed in fact unbounded approval, as it was turned full on me with that straight frank gaze, and i exulted inwardly, but then came a thought that dashed everything and was as a judgment upon my quite unwarrantable conceit. this was it. what if they are engaged, and that full, frank look of approval is one of gratitude that i should have saved--if not the life of the other--at any rate the certainty of him being badly injured? it is singular that no such idea had ever occurred to me before, but it did now, and seemed to lend significance to certain signs of resentment and ill-will which i had noticed on falkner's part on occasions where his cousin was concerned. and the thought was a thoroughly disquieting one, i admit. "listen! here they come," i said, holding up a hand. "the entertainment is about to begin." the distant and deep-toned hum of conversation had reached us from where our dusky entertainers were enjoying their feast, and an occasional outburst of laughter. now, instead, came the regular rhythm of a savage song, drawing nearer and nearer. "i think we can't do better than let them perform just in front here," i went on. "the ground's open, and the moon almost as bright as day." this was agreed to enthusiastically, and soon the singing grew louder and louder, and the whole body in their picturesque gear, came marching up, beating time upon their shields with sticks and assegai hafts. they halted in half moon formation and one man stepping out from the rest, gave the sign for silence. then having saluted us with much _sibongo_, he led off, in a sort of chant, loud and clear at first, then rising higher and higher. the others took it up at a given point in response, and although the song did not run to many notes, it was soon thundered aloud in a harmonious wave of sound. when it had attained its highest pitch, at a sign from the _choragus_ it ceased--ceased with such suddenness as to impart an impression that was positively uneasy. "dashed effective, by jove!" pronounced the major, breaking the spell. "why, it is beautiful--positively beautiful," declared miss sewin. "the harmony and the rhythmic waves of sound are perfect. tell me, mr glanton, what was it all about?" "oh, it was merely a song of welcome, improvised over yonder while they were scoffing my cows." "really? do you mean to say it was all impromptu?" "of course. that's the way these people do things." "won't they go over it again?" "oh, there's plenty more to come. rather too soon for an encore yet." while i spoke they were forming up again. this time they broke up into a hunting song. when it seemed to have gained its height, it suddenly ceased, and all darted away across the veldt till nearly out of sight in the moonlight. "what the deuce are they up to now?" said falkner, filling his pipe. "you'll see. listen. now they are returning with the game." again the voices broke forth, now returning as i had said, and swelling higher and higher, in a long recitative uttered by some dozen, and replied to in rolling chorus by the whole body. "they are recounting their exploits now--what game they have got, and how they got it," i explained, as the singing ceased. "by jove, are they?" cried falkner. "look here, glanton, i've got an idea. how would it be to scare up a hunt to-morrow, and get a lot of these chaps to help? i'd like to see how they go to work in their own way. that would be worth seeing." "well, it might be managed. what d'you think, major?" "a capital idea. but--hang it, we haven't got our guns." "oh, as to that," i said, "you could use mine. there's a shot gun and a rifle, and a rifle and smooth-bore combined. that'll arm all hands." "well done, glanton. you're a jewel of a chap!" cried falkner, boisterously. "the very thing. but, i say. how about arranging it with them now. no time like the present, eh?" the idea appealed to me exceedingly, not for its own sake, i fear, but because it would afford an opportunity of detaining my guests--or shall we say one of them--yet longer, perhaps even another night, for it would be hard if i could not manage to prolong the hunt until too late for them to return. really falkner sewin was not without his uses in the world. "i think it would be simply delightful!" interjected that "one of them." "we will be able to see some of it too, won't we, mr glanton?" "why of course, miss sewin. i'll send the boys up to some convenient spot with lunch and we'll make a regular picnic of it." the idea was received with enthusiasm. only mrs sewin somewhat faintly objected that they had a long way to go to get home afterwards. but this i over-ruled by hoping they would not find my poor accommodation so very trying that the prospect of another night of it--if the worst came to the worst--should prove entirely out of the question. just then a group of men detached themselves from the rest, and came over to us, to salute and ask how we liked the performance. "this is wabisa, the next biggest chief under tyingoza," i said, introducing the foremost, a tall, dignified head-ringed man. "now, miss sewin, here is a real chief. tyingoza could not come to-night, but will to-morrow morning." "i'm so glad," she answered, looking at wabisa with interest. i gave them some roll tobacco which i had ready for them, and told my boys to make them some coffee. the while i arranged for to-morrow's bush-buck hunt. there was no difficulty about it at all, even as i had expected. i could have as many boys as i wanted. "they must hunt too, wabisa," i said. "the white _amakosi_ want to see if the assegai is a better weapon than the gun." "_ou_! that they shall see," laughed the chief. "is there going to be any more dancing, mr glanton?" said the youngest girl. "yes. the best part. they're going to give us the war dance now," and i suggested to wabisa that it was getting late, and the white ladies might be growing tired. of all native dances a war dance is the most catching, and this had not long started before even the old major found himself beating time with his feet, while as for falkner, it was all i could do to prevent him from rushing in among them to take his part. the chant now rose quickly to a ferocious roar, and as the dancers swayed and crouched, turning half round, then leaping erect, while going through the pantomime of striking an enemy, to the accompaniment of a strident death hiss, the whole scene was vivid and realistic enough to have rendered some people decidedly nervous. then the thunderous stamping of six hundred feet, the beating of sticks on shields, and the shrilling rattle of assegai hafts--a sound not quite like any other i ever heard, and i've heard it often--add to this the rolling of fierce eyeballs, and the waving of tufted shields in the moonlight and you have a picture unrivalled for thrilling and at the same time exhilarating terror. a gasp as of involuntary relief went up from my guests as the thunder and racket ceased with a suddenness of silence that was almost appalling in contrast miss sewin was the first to speak. "it is perfectly magnificent," she declared. "i for one don't know how to thank you, mr glanton, for giving us such a splendid entertainment." i was rarely pleased at this, and mumbled something--probably idiotic. "i suppose it isn't much to you," she went on. "you must have seen it often, and the real thing too." "well yes. i have, and done by more thousands than there are hundreds here. by the way, i'm giving them a little more beef for to-morrow morning so they'll be in high trim and good humour for our hunt." "oh, i'm afraid you are going to a great deal of trouble on our account," she said. "isn't it worth it--at least--i mean--er--it isn't often one can afford anyone a new kind of pleasure in this worn-out world," i added lamely. but i believe she read my original meaning for i could see a soft look come into the beautiful clear eyes in the moonlight, and there was a half smile curving her lips. we were talking a little apart from the others who had embarked on a voluble discussion of their own. and then it was voted time for bed, and the natives having dispersed, after a sonorously uttered farewell salute, the major and falkner and i had a final glass of grog, or so, and adjourned to our quarters in the store. chapter seven. tyingoza's head-ring. there was no sign of life on the part of my guests, as i rolled out at early dawn and went down to the waterhole in the kloof for a splash. when i returned the major and his nephew were sitting up on their blankets rubbing their eyes. "any chance of a tub, glanton?" said the latter. "there's a waterhole down in the kloof, if it's not too cold for you. take the path that leads by tom's hut. you can't miss it." "right, i'll chance the cold. got a towel? ah, thanks." "that fellow's a great subject of anxiety to me, glanton," said the major, after falkner had gone out. "i feel in a sort of way responsible for him. he was in the service for a few years, then chucked it suddenly, for no other reason than to go tea-planting in ceylon with some infernal swindler who persuaded him to invest what he'd got, in a partnership, and then skinned him of the whole lot. his father was simply frantic with him." "i can imagine he would be." "so can i, after the expense and trouble he had been put to in getting this young fool into the service at all, then to have him chuck it all up! he wouldn't do anything more for him; shut the door in his face and told him to go to the devil. he didn't go to the devil; he came to me." "i'm sure he chose the right alternative, major," i said, when i had recovered from the roar into which this way of putting it had sent me. "well, you see it's a grave responsibility, and if he throws up this i don't know what'll become of him. he's got nothing in the world but what he has invested in a little stock on my place, and as for getting him a bunk, why i haven't influence enough to get him one as boot-black to a club." "well, he mustn't throw it up, that's all," i said. "that's what i tell him. but he's so restless, swears the life's slow here. bad-tempered too, and always kicking up rows with the niggers. yes, he's a great anxiety to me." as to the last i thought as coming from major sewin it was a good deal of the pot calling the kettle black. for the rest his revelations as to falkner's prospects, or the lack of them, were not unpleasing to me, if only that the uncomfortable thought which had beset me last night could have had no foundation. this was mean but i suppose it was natural, and, as a set off, may be accepted the fact that i would willingly have done the youngster any good turn within my power. i felt flattered too that the old gentleman should discuss with me what was, after all, a family matter. "i can readily imagine it," i answered. "but he'll have too much sense, i should think, to do anything so foolish. and then, too, major, i should think the ladies' influence would--" "ah, now, it's just that which--" but what "that" was i was not fated to know, for i heard my name called in mrs sewin's voice, and had to hurry away, to find out what was wanted. also, i thought the speaker had checked himself as though about to say too much. "we never slept more comfortably in our lives than in that waggon of yours, mr glanton," said the youngest girl, as we all met for an early breakfast. "did we, aida?" "no, indeed. the kartel--isn't that what you call it--has all the elasticity of a spring mattress. really, i shall never believe again in you up-country men's stories of roughing it." "they're true, all the same," i answered, with a laugh. "for that reason we make ourselves comfortable when we can." "by jove, glanton, that waterhole of yours is dashed cold," said falkner, who came up, looking a fresh and healthy specimen of young england after his bath. "yes, but go and get dressed, falkner," said his aunt. "we're just going to breakfast." the table was laid as before, under the waggon sail, upon which the not long risen sun was fast drying up the heavy dew. away below, over the zulu country, a thick white mist, in billowy masses of cloud, was rolling back, revealing distant rock and dark forest belt shimmering in sheeny patches of dew beneath the unbroken blue. all were in high spirits, especially falkner, who had soon joined us, over the prospect of the coming hunt. with his faults, such as they were, he had the redeeming virtue in my eyes of being a keen sportsman. we had done breakfast, and i was pointing out to miss sewin various points of interest in the landscape near and far, when we descried a tall figure coming towards us. "who is this?" she said, as the newcomer saluted. he was a fine, straight, warrior-like young fellow, and carried a small shield and a bundle of hunting assegais which he deposited on the ground. "ivuzamanzi, the son of tyingoza--ah, i'm afraid you'll be disappointed miss sewin," after a few words with him. "the chief sends word that he will not be able to come this morning, but his son will direct the hunting party instead. he will come up this evening if he can." "well, i suppose i ought to be more anxious than ever to see him," she said, "as he is so unapproachable." "well, don't prepare for any display of royalty," i warned. "tyingoza is just like any other highbred zulu, in fact you wouldn't know him from another unless you were told." soon groups of natives began to straggle up, not in regular formation this time. they had discarded their adornments and carried only small shields, knobsticks and light, casting assegais. at their heels trotted a number of dogs, from the slinking mongrel, to the well-bred tawny or brindled greyhound; and indeed the snarling and fighting that presently arose among these, soon took up enough of their owners' time to keep them apart. the process was simple by the way. if two or more dogs got fighting their owners simply whacked them with kerries until they desisted. "ah--ah, ivuzamanzi," i went on, chaffing him. "i had thought of fixing our mid-day resting place on the river bank below where umzinyati flows in. or, are the horns of matyana's calves long enough to reach across? what thinkest thou, son of tyingoza?" "_ou_!" laughed the youth, bringing his hand to his mouth. "you are my father, iqalaqala. but that day is yet to be paid for." his broken leg was very completely mended, and he showed no trace of a limp, even. i explained the joke to my companion. "i didn't know they fought like that among themselves," she said. "tell me, mr glanton. they are not likely to do anything of that sort to-day, are they? i mean, they might get excited." "no--no. don't be in the least alarmed about that. by the way, how are you getting on in your studies? say something to ivuzamanzi now--even if only two or three words." "no, i'm shy to. you'll only laugh at me, or he will." "not a bit of it. now--go ahead." "hallo! what nigger's this?" bellowed falkner, swaggering up. "he wasn't here last night, was he?" "no," i answered rather shortly, disgusted at the interruption of this blundering ass upon our little understanding. "he's the chief's son, and he's going to boss up the arrangements, so don't be uncivil to him if you can help it, eh?" "i'll try not. but i say, glanton, come and arrange about these guns you were speaking of, there's a good fellow. it must be nearly time to start." already, you see, he was beginning to take over the whole scheme. it was a little way he had--i have observed it too, in others of his kidney. "oh, there's time enough," i said, still shortly, for i don't like to be hustled, and just then, and by falkner sewin, i liked it still less. and something of this must have imparted itself to his understanding for he answered unpleasantly: "oh well of course, if you're so much better employed," and he moved off in dudgeon. my companion coloured slightly and looked displeased. "isn't your relative rather a queer tempered sort of fellow?" i asked, with a smile. "well yes, he is rather, but we are all so sorry for him that--i'm afraid he was rather rude to you, mr glanton, i must apologise for him." "no--no--no," i said. "not a bit of it. don't you think anything about that. i don't." she changed the subject to something else, and i went on talking longer than i would otherwise have done. the interruption and its manner had annoyed me, and a good deal as a protest against being hurried i made up my mind not to hurry. afterwards i had reason to regret my delay. we strolled back to join the others, and the prospect of this companionship more or less throughout the day, to end in an evening similar to that of last night--with the native revels left out--soon restored my accustomed good humour. the natives were squatting about round the store in groups, conversing in their deep-toned voices. then suddenly they all sprang to their feet as one man, uttering respectful salutations; and there, to my surprise, advancing leisurely towards us, came tyingoza himself. "it is the chief," i explained for the benefit of my companion, "tyingoza. he has changed his mind." "oh, i am so glad," she said, looking at him with interest. "i shall see him before we start i like the look of him. why if we had started when falkner wanted us to we should have missed him." afterwards, i repeat, i had good reason to wish we had. i have omitted to describe tyingoza's outward appearance. he was a man of between fifty and sixty, rather inclining to stoutness, which detracted somewhat from his stature, but his walk was straight and dignified, and he carried his shaven head, crowned by the shiny ring, well held back, as became a zulu of birth and standing. his strong face, terminating in a short, crisp, grizzled beard, was a very pleasant one, and the expression of his eyes good-humoured and genial to a degree. "welcome, tyingoza," i said, going forward to meet him. "here are they who would see thy young men hunt." the chief ran his eyes over the group. "i see them, iqalaqala," he said, in the native idiom. "_whau_! the game is rather scarce, but i hope they will be pleased." his eyes rested for a moment on miss sewin, and then on me, and i remembered his joke about the new hut. then he sat down in his accustomed place against the front of the store, while the others sank back into their former attitudes at a respectful distance. "what rum things those head-rings are, glanton," commented falkner, who had been staring at tyingoza as if he were some wild animal. "looks for all the world like a thick stick of spanish liquorice coiled round his head. what the deuce are they made of?" "the dark gum of the mimosa, and other things," i said, going on, in the major's interest, to translate all sorts of complimentary things which that fine old soldier had never dreamed of originating. "well, now we've seen him," grumbled falkner, "can't you give him a gentle hint to move on, or, at any rate, that we want to. it's high time we started, and he's delaying us like blazes." "can't do anything of the sort," i flung back in a quick aside. "it wouldn't be etiquette to hurry him." "etiquette! with a nigger!" jeered falkner, going into the store to light his pipe. now the place of tyingoza's accustomed seat was right under a window, which was open. seated as he was, with his back to the wall, his head came about a foot and a half below the sill of this. i talked with him a little longer and he was just expressing the opinion that it was high time for us to start, when i saw the head and shoulders of falkner sewin lounging through this window. he was puffing away at his pipe, looking somewhat intently down upon the chief's head, and then, to my horror, and of course before i could prevent it, down went his hand. with an agility surprising in a man of his years and build tyingoza sprang to his feet, and stood with head erect, gazing sternly and indignantly at falkner, who, still half through the window, was examining minutely a piece which he had dug out of the chief's head-ring, and still held in his thumb nail, grinning like the stark, record idiot he was. there was a second or two of tension, then the four score or so of natives who were squatting around, sprang to their feet as one man, and a deep gasp of horror and resentment escaped from every chest. "why what's the row?" cried the offending fool. "the old boy seems a bit cross." "a bit cross," i repeated grimly. "why you've insulted him about as completely as if you'd hit him in the face." "oh bosh! here, i haven't hurt his old bit of stick liquorice. tell him to stick his head down and i'll plaster the bit back in its place again, and give him a shilling into the bargain." the expression of tyingoza's face had undergone a complete change, and the indignant look had given way to one of the most withering contempt, as with a wave of the hand towards falkner, in which there was a suggestion of pity, he said softly: "_hau! sengaloku igcwane_." ["it seems an idiot."] then, turning, he walked away. chapter eight. the spoiling of the hunt. there was a tense, and, under the circumstances to anyone who knew, rather an awesome silence. "this won't do," i said. "i must go after him and explain." "don't go. it doesn't look safe." the protest came from miss sewin, for now an angry muttering had arisen among the young men, and the rattle of assegai hafts--this time in ominous earnest--mingled with the hoarse growl of deepening indignation. a very different face was upon things now to that of formerly. the head-ring of their father and chief had been insulted. "it might not be for everybody, but it is for me," i answered, quickly, as i hurried after the chief. it was no easy task to placate tyingoza. i pointed out to him that what had been done was the silly childish act of a foolish boy who had no sort of idea of what he was doing, and how sorry i was that such a thing should have happened, especially on my place, where he, tyingoza, had always been so thoroughly welcome, and so forth. and now, would not he return with me and receive a present from me, and an apology from the boy, to show his people that there was no remnant of a cloud between us? but it was all of no use. he relaxed as far as i was concerned. it was a pity that i had been obliged to have an idiot on my place, he said, but he could see that what had happened was no fault of mine. but he would not come back. "there are my `dogs,' iqalaqala," pointing to the groups of young men, now some distance behind us. "i sent them to hunt with your friends-- they will do so. i am going home." i could not shake his determination, and he strode away. our talk, as i said, had taken up some little time, and now as i neared the store i saw that i had returned none too soon. for, seeing that their chief had not returned the angry mutterings of his incensed followers had risen to a threatening hubbub. all the savage was now aroused within them, and they crowded up to the store, clamouring for the man who had insulted their father's head-ring. assegais were flourished, dogs were adding their howls and yaps to the general racket, and altogether matters were taking a decidedly serious turn. "what is this, children of tyingoza?" i said, as i came up behind them--incidentally kicking away a large cur which had come for me open-mouthed. "the last words of the chief as he left me were--`i have sent them to hunt with your friends--they will do so.' but now i find you ready to spring upon them instead. what does it mean?" "this, iqalaqala. we want the `idiot'." the speaker was ivuzamanzi. he had been out of the way during the incident, which was uncommonly lucky for falkner sewin. now he was foremost in the agitation. "but you cannot hold an `idiot' responsible," i urged, catching at a straw. "ah--ah! but this is not a real one," answered the young warrior. "he must be beaten." "not so. the chief is satisfied. he bade me tell you to go on with the hunt. who are ye to shut your ears to his `word'?" this told, for the clamour dropped into sullen mutterings as they consulted together. the while i walked through them and gained the store. the major was standing in the doorway, and i could see the faces of the two girls at the window light up with relief as i approached. they had thought i should be murdered in the midst of the excited and gesticulating group, but as a matter of fact i ran not the slightest danger, and this i hastened to assure them. i was glad to notice that falkner had had the sense to keep himself out of sight, or, what was more likely, somebody else had had it for him. "ah, now we shall be all right," said mrs sewin, who was seated on a pile of goods for want of a chair. "i must say these savages are rather alarming." "they'll go home directly, mrs sewin. i've talked them into a better frame of mind." "go home?" echoed falkner. "but, confound it all--what about our hunt?" "you won't get one of them to stir in that now," i said, "and if they did you wouldn't be well advised to go with them." "well, i think there's considerable overweight of fuss being made because a silly old nigger puts his back up and walks off in a huff," answered falkner, sullenly. "look here, sewin," i said, fast beginning to lose my temper. "that `silly old nigger' is one of the most influential chiefs in natal. added to which he's a zulu of high breeding, that is to say one of the proudest of men--and you've put upon him the biggest insult you could have thought out, and that in the presence of a number of his people-- who moreover were sent up here by his orders to help your day's amusement i say nothing of it having been done on my place--but, incidentally, your monkeyish and schoolboy prank has been the means of frightening the ladies somewhat." "here, i say, glanton. i don't take that sort of talk, you know," he answered, colouring up. "glanton's quite right," struck in the major decisively, and with some sternness. "you've made an ass of yourself, and got us into a nice mess--which we don't seem out of yet," he added, as again the voices outside rose high. i went out again. ivuzamanzi came forward. "we will not hunt with your friends, iqalaqala. we are going home. as for the _igcwane_--let him look well on all sides of him." "for the first i think you are right son of tyingoza," i answered. "for the second--_gahle_! it is not wise to threaten men on the queen's side of the river--for such might lead to visits from the _amapolise_." but he replied that he cared nothing for the police, and the others laughed sneeringly and agreed. "see now," said ivuzamanzi, shaking his stick. "will he, the _igcwane_, come out and fight? he looks big enough, and strong enough, for all that he is a fool." i found myself wishing the matter might be cleared up in this rough and ready manner; but for one thing the ladies were with us, for another i didn't see how the two could fight on anything like even terms. falkner couldn't fight with native weapons, and ivuzamanzi, like any other zulu, of course had not the remotest idea how to use his fists. so it wouldn't do. "how can that be?" i put it. "he does not understand fighting in your way, and you do not understand fighting in his. you would both be ridiculous. go home, son of tyingoza, and talk with your father. you will find he has forgotten all about the affair and so must you. a mistake has been made and we all regret it." "_ou_!" he grunted, and turned away. i thought enough had been said, to these young ones at any rate, so forbore to give them anything more in the way of entertainment lest they should think we were afraid of them. and soon, somewhat to my relief, and very much to the relief of my guests, they picked up their weapons, and with their curs at their heels moved away in groups as they had come. "well, we seem to have put you to no end of bother, glanton, for which i can't tell you how sorry we are," said the major. "and now we mustn't put you to any more--so, as there is to be no hunt i propose that we saddle up, and go home." "not until after lunch at any rate, major," i said. "i can't allow that for a moment. as for bother it has been nothing but a pleasure to me, except this last tiresome business." i thought miss sewin's face expressed unmistakable approval as i caught her glance. "how well you seem to manage these people, mr glanton," she said. "i-- we--were beginning to feel rather nervous until you came up. then we were sure it would all come right. and it has." inwardly i thought it had done anything but that, but under the circumstances my confounded conceit was considerably tickled by her approval, and i felt disposed to purr. however i answered that talking over natives was an everyday affair with me, in fact part of my trade, and by the time we sat down to lunch--which was not long, for the morning was well on by then--good humour seemed generally restored. even falkner had got over his sulks. "i say, sewin," i said to him as i passed him the bottle. "you were talking about going on a trading trip with me. it wouldn't do to get chipping bits out of the chiefs' head-rings on the other side of the river, you know. they take that sort of thing much more seriously over there." "oh hang it, glanton, let a fellow alone, can't you," he answered, grinning rather foolishly. "by the way, major, has anything more been heard about hensley?" i said. "hensley? who's he? ah, i remember. he's been over at our place a couple of times. why? is he ill?" "nobody knows--or where he is. he has disappeared." "disappeared?" "yes. nobody seems to have the slightest clue as to what has become of him. he went to bed as usual, and in the morning--well, he wasn't there. he couldn't have gone away anywhere, for his horses were all on the place, and his boys say they had never heard him express any intention of leaving home." "good gracious, no. we hadn't heard of it," said mrs sewin. "but-- when was it?" "about a fortnight ago. i didn't hear of it till the other day--and then through native sources." "oh, some nigger yarn i suppose," said falkner in his superior manner, which always ruffled me. "would you be surprised to hear that i obtain a good deal of astonishingly accurate information through the same source, sewin?" i answered. "in fact there is more than one person to whom it relates, who would be more than a little uncomfortable did they guess how much i knew about them." "oh, then you run a nigger gossip shop as well as a nigger trading shop," he retorted, nastily. "but what a very unpleasant thing," hastily struck in his aunt, anxious to cover his rudeness. "does that sort of thing happen here often?" "i never heard of a case before." "probably the niggers murdered him and stowed him away somewhere," pronounced the irrepressible falkner. "even `niggers' don't do that sort of thing without a motive, and here there was none. less by a long way than had it been your case," i was tempted to add, but didn't. "no, i own it puzzles me. i shall take a ride over there in a day or two, and make a few enquiries on the spot, just as a matter of curiosity." "all the same it looks dashed fishy," said the major. "d'you know, glanton, i'm inclined to think falkner may have hit it." "nothing's absolutely impossible," i answered. "still, i don't think that's the solution." "but the police--what do they think of it?" "so far they are stumped utterly and completely--nor can their native detectives rout out anything." "how very dreadful," said mrs sewin. "really it makes one feel quite uncomfortable." "he lived alone, remember, mrs sewin, and there are plenty of you," i laughed, meaning to be reassuring. but i could see that a decidedly uncomfortable feeling had taken hold upon her mind, and tried to turn the conversation, blaming myself for a fool in having started such a subject at all on the top of the alarm the ladies had already been subjected to that morning. but they say there are compensations for everything, and mine came when just as they were preparing to start mrs sewin said to me: "i have a very great favour to ask you, mr glanton, and i hardly like doing so after all your kindness to us since yesterday and what has come of it. but--would you mind riding home with us this afternoon. after what has just happened we should feel so much safer if you would." i tried to put all the sincerity i could into my reassurances that no one would interfere with them, but apart from my own inclinations a certain anxious look on aida sewin's face as they waited for my answer decided me. "why of course i will if it will be any help to you, mrs sewin," i said, and then again a quick grateful look from the same quarter caused me to tread on air, as i went round to see to the saddling up of the horses--my own among them. as we took our way down the well worn bush path i could see that the incident of the morning had not been entirely cleared off from the minds of the party. the ladies were inclined to be nervous, and if a horse started and shied at a tortoise or a white snail shell beside the path i believe they more than half expected a crowd of revengeful savages to rush out and massacre them on the spot. however, of course, nothing happened, and we got to the major's farm by sundown. then i had my reward. "will you come and help me water some of the flowers, mr glanton?" said miss sewin, after we had offsaddled and generally settled ourselves. "no--don't say you are going back. mother is very nervous to-night, and i know you are going to add to your kindness to us by sleeping here." again i trod on air--and yet--and yet--i felt that i was acting like a fool. what on earth could come of it--at any rate to my advantage? yet, again--why not? "i want you to promise me something, mr glanton, will you?" miss sewin said, when dusk and the lateness of the hour had put an end to what was to me one of the most delightful half hours i ever remember spending, for we had spent it alone, she chatting in that free and natural manner of hers, i agreeing with everything, as the entrancement of listening to her voice and watching her grace of movement wound itself more and more around me. "i think i may safely promise you anything, miss sewin," i answered. "well? what is it?" "i want you to promise me not to quarrel with my cousin--no matter how rude and provoking he may be." "is that all? why of course i will." "ah but--you may not find it so easy," she went on, speaking earnestly, and her wide open glance full on my face. "i have been noticing his behaviour towards you of late, and admiring your forbearance. but as a personal favour to myself, don't quarrel with him." "oh, i still think that'll be an easy promise to keep," i said; and yet, the very fact that she was so anxious on the subject seemed to make the other way. why was she? she shook her head slightly and smiled, as though reading my thoughts. "you see, we are all so friendly together, are we not?" she said. "and a man of your experience and good sense can afford to put up with a good deal from a mere boy who hasn't much of either." "why of course," i answered easily, and reassured by her tactful explanation. yet--was falkner such "a mere boy" after all? chapter nine. hensley's next-of-kin. it is a strange, and i suppose a wholesomely-humiliating thing that we are appointed to go through life learning how little we know ourselves. here was i, a man no longer young, with considerable experience of the ways of the world, rough and smooth, and under the fixed impression that if there was one man in the said wide and wicked world whom i knew thoroughly, in and out, from the crown of his hat to the soles of his boots--or _velschoenen_, as the case might be--that man was godfrey glanton, trader in the zulu. and yet i had lived to learn that i didn't know him at all. for instance the happy-go-lucky, free-and-easy, semi-lonely life that had satisfied me for so many years seemed no longer satisfying; yet why not, seeing that all its conditions prevailed as before? i had enough for my needs, and if i didn't make a fortune out of my trade, whether stationary or from time to time peripatetic, i had always made a steady profit. now, however, it came home to me that this was a state of things hardly the best for a man to live and die in. again why not? i had seen contemporaries of my own--men circumstanced like myself who had come to the same conclusion. they had left it--only to come to grief in unfamiliar undertakings. or they had married; only to find that they had better have elected to go through the rest of life with a chain and ball hung round their necks, than strapped to some nagging woman full of affectations and ailments--and raising a brood of progeny far more likely to prove a curse to them than anything else; thanks to the holy and gentle maternal influence aforesaid. all this i had seen, and yet, here i was, feeling restless and unsatisfied because for several days the recollection of a certain sweet and refined face, lit up by a pair of large, appealing eyes, had haunted my solitary hours. it was that time since i had seen my neighbours. i had heard of them through my usual sources of information, and they seemed to me to be getting along all right; wherefore i had forborne to pay another visit lest it might have the appearance of "hanging around." and by way of combating an inclination to do so now, i made up my mind to carry out a deferred intention, viz., pay a visit to hensley's place. tyingoza had been over to see me a couple of times, but made no allusion whatever to falkner sewin's act of boyish idiocy: presumably rating it at its proper standard. but, i noticed that he wore a new head-ring. however, i hoped that was an incident forgotten; and as i heard nothing to the contrary, and my trade ran on as usual, i made no further reference to it either to tyingoza or anybody else. i arrived at the scene of hensley's disappearance about mid-day. the homestead stood in a long, narrow valley, thickly bushed. behind, and almost overhanging it, was a great krantz whose smooth ironstone wall glowed like a vast slab of red-hot metal. the place was wild and picturesque to a degree, but--oh so hot! two men in shirts and trousers were playing quoits as i came up. i didn't know either of them by sight. "good day," said one of them, knocking off his play, and coming up. "off-saddle won't you? dashed hot, isn't it?" "thanks. i'm glanton, from isipanga," i said in answer to his look of enquiry. "oh. glad to know you, glanton. i'm kendrew, from nowhere in particular, at least not just now, price of transport being too _sleg_ for anything." "oh, you ride transport then? how many waggons?" "three in good times--one in bad; none in worse--as in the present case. this is sergeant simcox, of the n.m.p.," introducing the other man, whom i noticed wore uniform trousers and boots. "he's been helping me to look for my poor old uncle, you know." "oh, hensley was your uncle, was he?" "rather. but i'm next-of-kin--so if he's not found i take. see?" with a comprehensive wink and jerk of the head which took in the surroundings. i couldn't help laughing at his coolness. he was a tall, rather good-looking young fellow, all wire and whipcord, with a chronically whimsical expression. the police sergeant was a hard bitten looking customer, typical of his line in life. "now what do you think of the affair?" i said. "did you know hensley well?" "hanged if i did. he didn't like me. did you?" "not very. i used to ride over and look him up now and again. but i can't imagine him doing anything mysterious. in fact i should say he'd be the last man in the world to do it." "_ja_. i don't know what to think of it. i've been running the place since i heard of the affair--luckily i wasn't on the road just then so was able to. you'll stop and have some scoff of course--you too, sergeant?" "wish i could," said the latter, "but it's against rules. must get back to my camp." "hang rules. who's to know? glanton here won't split." he was right, wherefore i forbear to say whether sergeant simcox made the third at that festive board or not. we talked of trade and transport-riding and frontier matters generally, but surprisingly little of the matter that had brought me there. in fact kendrew rather seemed to shirk the subject; not in any sort of suspicious manner let me explain, but rather as if he thought the whole thing a bore, and a very great one at that. "you see, glanton," he explained, presumably detecting a surprised look on my face, called there by the exceedingly light way in which he was taking things. "you see it isn't as if we had had a lot to do with each other. of course i don't for a moment hope that the poor old boy has come to grief, in fact i can't help feeling that he may turn up any moment and want to know what the devil i've taken up my quarters at his place for, in this free and easy way." after a good dinner, washed down with a glass or so of grog, we went to look at the place where the missing man had slept. this didn't help towards any theory. if there had been foul play, whoever had been concerned in it had removed all traces long ago. "a good hound, requisitioned at first, would have done something towards clearing up the mystery," i said. "yes, but you might as well have requisitioned a good elephant, for all you'd get either round here," laughed kendrew. "well, i shall just give it up as a bad job and leave it to simcox. that's what he draws his pay for. i'll just sit tight and boss up things so long. that's my job." "i'd like to have a word or two with the boy who saw him last," i said. "alone i mean." "think you can get him to talk, eh? well perhaps you may--i've heard of you, glanton, and what a chap you are for managing kafirs. all right, stop on till this evening, the boy's out herding now. then you can _indaba_ him to your heart's content after supper. you'll stay the night of course." but i urged that such was not in my programme, and in fact i had some business to attend to next day irrespective of mere retail trade in the store. so we compromised by my consenting to remain till evening. there was sufficient moon for me to ride home by even if it rose somewhat late. i suggested that we should ride out into the veldt in the afternoon and i could interview the boy there. he would talk more freely that way, and kendrew agreed. the boy was a quiet, decent looking youngster, and was herding his flock in most exemplary fashion. i asked him his name. "pecamane, 'nkose!" "have i seen you before?" "more than once, _nkose_. at isipanga, at the store. then again, when we danced and ate beef." "ah. you were there then? who is your chief?" "tyingoza, _nkose_." kendrew had ridden on, leaving me alone with the boy. "well then," i said, "if tyingoza is your chief you will be safe in telling _me_ the story of your master's `who is no longer here.'" "_ou_! _nkose_. the only story i have to tell is what i told to the _amapolise_, and he who now sits here"--meaning kendrew. "but it is no story." he was right there, in that like the tale of the empty bottle there was nothing in it. his master had given him some final orders after supper, and he had gone over to the huts for the night. he was employed in the stable then. and no one had opened the stable? no, it was locked, and his master had the key. they had been obliged to break open the door in the morning to get at the horses. there you see, there was nothing in this story, but then i had never expected there would be. what i wanted was to watch the face and note the manner of its narrator. this i had done, and keenly, with the result that i felt convinced that the boy knew no more about hensley's disappearance than i did myself. upon this the police sergeant subsequently waxed somewhat superior. he resented the idea that what had baffled the wit of the police and native detectives combined might stand the slightest chance of being cleared up by me. however i didn't take offence, although my opinion of the abilities of his force was but medium, and that of the native detectives nowhere, though this applied more to their morality than ingenuity. it happened that i was in a position to know something of the methods of the latter in "getting up" cases. "well good-bye, glanton," said kendrew, as we shook hands. "devilish glad you came over in a friendly way. and, i say--mind you repeat the operation and that often. i like a jolly, good sort of neighbourly neighbour." i promised him i would, as i climbed into the saddle--and the great krantz seemed to echo back our cheery good-bye in ghostly refrain. i liked kendrew, i decided as i rode along. he struck me as a lively, cheery sort of fellow with lots of fun in him, and not an atom of harm. decidedly as a neighbour he would be an improvement on his poor old relative, who although a good chap enough had always been a bit of a fossil. that's one of the advantages of the up-country or frontier life, you take a man as you find him and no make believe, or stiffness or ceremony. if he's a good fellow he is, and all the better. if he isn't why then he isn't, and you needn't have any more to do with him than you want, or make any pretence about it. in the solitude as i took my way through the thorns the recollection of hensley came upon me again, and i confess, as i thought upon it there, under the midnight moon--for i had started back rather later than i had intended--a sort of creepy feeling came over me. what the deuce had become of the man? if he had got a fit of mental aberration, and taken himself off, he would have left some spoor, yet no sign of any had been lighted upon by those who had again and again made diligent search. i looked around. the bush sprays seemed to take on all manner of weird shapes; and once my horse, shying and snorting at a big hare, squatting up on its haunches like a big idiot, bang in the middle of the path, gave me quite an unpleasant start. the black brow of the krantz cut the misty, star-speckled skyline now receding on my left behind--and then-- my horse gave forth another snort and at the same time shied so violently as to have unseated me, but that my nerves were--again i confess it--at something of an abnormal tension. a figure was stealing along in the not very distinct moonlight; a human figure or--was it? suddenly it stopped, half in shadow. "hi! hallo! who's that," i sung out. there was no answer. then i remembered that with my mind running upon hensley i had used english. yet the figure was that of a native. it wanted not the blackness of it in the uncertain light; the stealthy, sinuous movement of it was enough to show that. yet, this certainty only enhanced the mystery. natives are not wont to prowl about after dark with no apparent object, especially alone. in the first place they have a very whole-hearted dread of the night side of nature--in the next such a proceeding is apt to gain for them more than a suspicion of practising the arts of witchcraft--a fatal reputation to set up yonder beyond the river, and, i hesitate not to assert, a very dangerous one to gain even here on the queen's side. the figure straightened up, causing my fool of a horse to snort and describe further antics. then a voice: "inkose! iqalaqala. be not afraid. it is only ukozi, who watches over the world while the world sleeps--ah--ah! while the world sleeps." i must own to feeling something of a thrill at the name. this ukozi was a diviner, or witch doctor, whose reputation was second to none among the natal border tribes--ay and a great deal wider--and that is saying a good deal. now of course the very mention of a witch doctor should arouse nothing but contemptuous merriment; yet the pretentions of the class are not all humbug by any means, indeed i have known a good few white men--hard bitten, up-country going men with no nonsense or superstition about them--who never fail to treat a genuine native witch doctor with very real consideration indeed. "greeting, father of mystery," i answered, with some vague idea that the meeting all so unexpected and somewhat weird, might yet be not without its bearings on the fate of hensley. "you are bent upon _muti_ indeed, when the world is half through its dark time and the moon is low." "m-m!" he hummed. "the moon is low. just so, iqalaqala. you will not go home to-night." "not go home!" i echoed, meaning to humour him, and yet, in my innermost self, conscious that there was a very real note of curiosity that could only come of whole, or partial, belief in the question. "and why should i not go home to-night?" he shrugged his shoulders impressively. then he said: "who may tell? but--you will not." i tried to laugh good-humouredly, but it was not genuine. yet was not the thing absurd? here was i, letting myself be humbugged--almost scared--by an old charlatan of a witch doctor, a fellow who made a comfortable living out of his credulous countrymen by fooling them with charms and spells and omens, and all sorts of similar quackery--i, a white man, with--i haven't mentioned it before--an english public school education. "here, my father," i said, producing a goodly twist of roll tobacco. "this is good--always good--whether by a comfortable fire, or searching for _muti_ materials under the moon." he received it, in the hollow of both hands, as the native way is. i saw before me in the moonlight what was not at all the popular conception of the witch doctor--a little shrivelled being with furtive, cunning looks, and snaky eyes. no. this was a middle-aged man of fine stature, and broadly and strongly built: destitute too of charms or amulets in the way of adornments. his head-ring glistened in the moonlight, and for all clothing he wore the usual _mutya_. in fact the only peculiarity about him was that he had but one eye. "what has become of nyamaki?" i said, filling and lighting my pipe. "u' nyamaki? has he gone then?" was the answer which, of course, was a bit of assumed ignorance. "now how can the father of wisdom ask such a question?" i said. "he-- to whom nothing is dark!" ukozi's face was as a mask. he uttered a single grunt--that was all. "the whites will offer large reward to the man who finds him," i went on. "will he who sits yonder"--meaning my recent entertainer--"offer large reward?" was the answer, a sudden whimsical flash illuminating the dark, impassive face. "that i cannot say. but i should think it probable. and now you are seeking midnight _muti_ so as to obtain such reward. take care," i went on, chaffing him. "to wander at midnight would not be safe _la pa_," pointing in the direction of the zulu country. "but here we are under the queen." "the queen! _au_! even the queen cannot do everything." "she just about can though," i answered decisively. "can she find nyamaki?" he said, putting his head on one side. this was a facer. i didn't know what the deuce to answer. while i was hesitating he went on: "_au_! well, iqalaqala, turn back and make your bed with him yonder, for you will not go home to-night _hamba gahle_." "_hlala gahle_, father of mystery," i answered lightly touching my horse with the spur. you will think it strange i should make so light of his warning, yet as i resumed my way up the valley, no thought of material danger came into my mind as i pondered over it. i would show him that wise as he was, and great his reputation, yet he did not know everything. i would have the crow of him next time we met, when-- my horse had suddenly cocked his ears, then uttering a loud snort he stopped dead--so suddenly indeed that i as nearly as possible pitched over his head. yet, there was nothing in sight. the path, here rather steep, narrowed between high thick bush, just over which on either hand, rose two straight but entirely insignificant krantzes. "he has seen a snake, a big mamba perhaps," i decided. "well, let the brute crawl away, as he's sure to do if alarmed. then we'll get on again." but we didn't. i shouted a little, and swished at the bushes with my whip. then i spurred my horse forward again. the confounded animal wouldn't budge. "here, this won't do," i said to myself feeling angry. then i got off. if the fool wouldn't go in the ordinary way perhaps he would lead. would he? not a bit of it; on the contrary he rucked back at his bridle so violently as nearly to tear it out of my hand. i got into the saddle again. "now you've got to go, damn it!" i growled, letting him have both rowels till i thought i could hear the bones squeak. in response he first plunged violently, then kicked, then reared, finally slewing round so quickly as nearly to unseat me. and now i became aware of a strange sickly scent, almost like that of a drug--yet how could it be? then, as it grew stronger, it took on a vile effluvium as of something dead. yet; i had passed over that very spot but a few hours back, and nothing of the kind had been there then. the horse was now standing quite still, his head towards the way we had come, all in a sweat and trembling violently. and now i own that some of his scare began to take hold of me. what did it mean--what the very deuce did it mean? what infernal witchcraft was this that could hold me up here on a path i had ridden several times before, on this identical horse too? yet, here in the still ghostly midnight hour alone, the affair began to grow dashed creepy. i made one more attempt, and that a half-hearted one--then giving the horse the rein let him take his own way, and that way was straight back to kendrew's. some thought of making a _detour_, and passing the bewitched point by taking a wide sweep, came into my mind, but that would have involved some infernally rough travelling, besides the moon wouldn't last much longer, and who could say whether the result might not turn out the same, for by now the witch doctor's declaration had carried its full weight. so i was soon knocking kendrew out of his first sleep, with literally a lame excuse to the effect that my steed had gone lame, and it was no use trying to get over two hours of rough road with him that night. "all right, old chap," sung out kendrew, in a jolly voice, as he let me in. "have a glass of grog first, and then we'll take him round to the stable. you can turn in in any room you like." i hoped he wouldn't notice that neither then nor on the following morning did my horse show the slightest sign of lameness. but i had made up my mind to say no word to him of what had occurred--and didn't. chapter ten. falkner pugnacious. "well but--who are you? what's your name? ain't ashamed of it, are you?" "ashamed of it? i'll darned soon let you know if i am or not, and teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head into the bargain." such was the dialogue that came to my ears very early on the morning following the events just recorded. the voices were right in front of my window and i chuckled, for i knew them both--knew one for that of my present host, the other for that of no less a personage than falkner sewin. i repeat, i chuckled, for there was a side of the situation which appealed to my sense of humour. falkner sewin's temper and dignity alike were ruffled. there was going to be a row. falkner had long wanted taking down a peg. it was highly probable that the said lowering process would now be effected. in about a moment i was at the window. the contending parties, by neither of whom was i observed, were drawn up in battle array. falkner, who had apparently just arrived on horseback, had dismounted, and was advancing upon kendrew in a sort of prize ring attitude. the latter for his part, simply stood and waited, his face wearing an expression of indifference that might be extremely provoking. no, i was not going to interfere--not yet. a little bloodletting would do falkner no harm--or, for the matter of that, either of them. "come on," sung out the latter. "come on, can't you. not afraid, are you?" "not much. i'm waiting for you." then they went at it--hammer and tongs. falkner had science--i could see that--but kendrew was as hard as nails, and a precious tough customer to handle, and made up for his lack of science by consummate coolness; and with an eye keen as a hawk's whenever he saw his chance, he confined himself so far to standing his ground, the while falkner waltzed round him, for all the world like a dog on the seashore when yapping round some big crab which he doesn't feel quite equal to closing in upon. for a little while i watched these manoeuvres in a state of semi-choke for stifled laughter, till they got to work in earnest, and then, by jingo, it was no child's play. "time!" i sung out stentoriously. "haven't you two fellows pummelled each other enough?" i went on, appearing before the combatants. "what's it all about, any way?" "glanton--by the lord!" ejaculated falkner, startled, and, i fancied, looking a trifle ashamed of himself. "what's it all about?" repeated kendrew. "well, you see, glanton, i ain't naturally a quarrelsome chap, but when a man comes onto my place, and begins upon me in a god almighty `haw-haw' sort of tone as `my good fellow' and doesn't even condescend to tell me who he is when asked, why it's enough to get my back up, isn't it?" i thought it was, but i wasn't going to say so, and his allusion to "my place" made me smile. "look here," i said decisively. "this is all a misunderstanding. you didn't know each other, now i'll introduce you. sewin, this is kendrew, a very good fellow when you get to know him--kendrew, this is sewin, a very good fellow when you get to know _him_. now shake hands." and they did, but the expression upon each face was so comical that i could hardly keep from roaring, which would have upset the whole understanding; in that each would have felt more savage at being made ridiculous. "well, if i've been uncivil i'll not be above owning it," said kendrew. "so come inside mr--sewin, and we'll have a drink and think no more about it." "so we will," growled falkner, partly through his handkerchief, for he had undergone the bloodletting which i had told myself would be salutary in his case. however there was no harm done, and having roared for a boy to off-saddle, kendrew led the way inside, on conviviality intent. "you're early here, sewin," i said. "where did you sleep?" "sleep. in the blessed veldt. i called in at your place, but as far as i could make out your nigger said you'd gone to helpmakaar. so i thought i'd go down to the river bank and try that place you pointed out to us for a buck, then call back later and have a shakedown with you when you come back." here kendrew interrupted us by bellowing to his boy to put on a great deal of beefsteak to fry, and to hurry up with it. "after a night in the veldt you'll be ready for breakfast, i should think," he explained heartily. while we were at breakfast falkner gave us a further outline of his doings. a mist had come up along the river bank, and in the result he had completely lost his bearings. instead of taking his way back to my place he had wandered on in the opposite direction, tiring his horse and exasperating himself, as every high ridge surmounted only revealed a further one with a deep, rugged, bushy valley intervening. at last his horse had refused to go any further, and he had to make up his mind to lie by in the veldt and wait till morning. "the rum part of it was," he went on, "i couldn't have been very far from here--and you'd think a horse would have known by instinct there was a stable in front of him. well, i, for one, am choked off belief in the marvellous instinct of horses, and all that sort of rot. this brute wasn't tired either--he simply and flatly refused to go on." "where was that?" i said, now roused to considerable interest. "at least, i mean--was it far from here?" "no. i just said it wasn't," he answered, a little testily. "it was just where the path dives through a pile of red rocks--you would know it, glanton. it's like a sort of natural gateway. well nothing on earth would induce that silly beast to go through there, and, d'you know, upon my soul i began to feel a bit creepy--remembering how the niggers have likely got a sort of grudge against me. so i thought after all, i'd better stay where i was and wait till morning--and--here i am." "well, it wouldn't have been anybody laying for you, sewin. you may make your mind easy on that point," i said. "possibly though, there may have been a snake, a big mamba perhaps, lying in the path just at that point--and your horse knew it. that'd be sufficient to hold him back." "by jove! i shouldn't wonder," he said. "wish i could have glimpsed him though. a full charge of treble a would have rid this country of one snake at any rate." falkner's experience had so exactly corresponded with my own as to impress me. while i had been held up in this eerie and mysterious manner on one side of the pile of rocks, the same thing had happened to him on the other, and, so far as i could make out, at just about the same time. well, we would see if anything of the sort should befall us presently when we passed the spot in the broad light of day. the while the two late combatants had been discussing the disappearance of hensley. "rum thing to happen," commented falkner. "ain't you rather--well, uncomfortable, at times, here, all alone?" "not me. you see my theory is that the poor old boy went off his nut and quietly wandered away somewhere and got into some hole, if not into the river. now i've no idea of going off my nut, so i don't feel in the least uncomfortable. in fact decidedly the reverse." "well but--what of the niggers?" kendrew let go a jolly laugh. "they're all right," he said. "let's go and look at your gee, glanton. hope he's still lame, so you can't get on, then we'll all three have a jolly day of it." i, for one, knew we were destined to have nothing of the kind--not in the sense intended by kendrew, that is--and i wanted to get home. needless to say when my steed was led forth he walked with his usual elasticity, manifesting not the smallest sign of lameness. "that's dashed odd," commented kendrew, after carefully examining the inside of every hoof and feeling each pastern. "oh, well, he's sure to begin limping directly you start, so you'd better give him another day to make sure." but this i resisted, having my own reasons for making a start falkner apparently had his too, for he was proof against the other's pressing invitation to remain and make a day of it. "well after all, you might get to punching each other's heads again, and i not there to prevent it," i said, jocularly. "good-bye, kendrew." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "not half a bad chap that, after all," said falkner, as we rode along together. "no. and if you'd wait to find that out before going for people you'd get along much better in these parts," i answered. and then i improved upon the occasion to read him a considerable lecture. to do him justice he took it very well. "look," he broke in. "it must have been just the other side of this that i got stuck last night." i had not needed my attention to be drawn to the spot, for already, as we were approaching it i had been noting the behaviour of my horse. it was normal. beyond a slight cocking of the ears we might as well have been traversing any other section of our path; indeed it was as though the strange interruption of last night had been a matter of sheer imagination, but for one consideration. of the extraordinary and overwhelming effluvium which had poisoned the air then, there was now no longer a trace, and this disposed of the theory that anything dead had been lying thereabouts. had such a cause been responsible for it, the air would not have cleared so quickly. no--ukozi had played some trick upon me for some reason of his own, but--what was that reason? even a witch doctor does not play the fool without some motive. "i believe your theory is the correct one, after all, glanton," interrupted my companion. "depend upon it some big black beast of a mamba was stopping the way. look. here's where i gave up." "so i see," i answered, for we had now got through to the other side of the ridge of rocks. "see? how?" "spoor. look. the dust is all disturbed and kicked about. here's where your gee refused." "so it is. i see it now myself. what a cute chap you are, glanton. oh, and i say, glanton--" after a momentary hesitation, "don't let on to them at home about that little breeze i had with kendrew down there, that's a good chap." i promised. this was his motive, then, in resolving to return with me? but it was not. "when are you going on that trading trip--into the zulu country?" he went on. "in two or three weeks' time," i answered. "by jove, but i would like to go with you. i'd like to make a little for myself. i want it all, i can tell you. but even that's not the first consideration. i'd like to see those parts and gain some experience. you wouldn't find me in the way, i promise you. i'd do every mortal thing you said--and keep out of ructions, if that's what you're afraid of." "what about the farm?" i answered. "your uncle isn't equal to looking after it single handed." "oh, that might be arranged. that chap you sent us--ivondwe--is worth his weight in gold--in fact i never would have believed such a thing as a trustworthy nigger existed, before he came." now i have already put on record that the last thing on earth i desired was falkner's company on the expedition i was planning--and the same still held good--and yet--and yet--he was aida sewin's relative and she seemed to take a great interest in him. perhaps it was with an idea of pleasing her--or i wonder if it was a certain anxiety as to leaving this young man at her side while i was away myself, goodness knows, but the fact remains that before we reached my place he had extracted from me what was more than half a promise that i would entertain the idea. and this i knew, even then, was tantamount to an entire promise. chapter eleven. a farewell visit. "nyamaki has not returned?" queried tyingoza, who, seated, in his accustomed place under the window of the store, had been taking snuff and chatting about things in general. "not that i have heard of," i answered. "i was at his place but a day or two back. will he return, tyingoza?" "and the young one--he who sits in nyamaki's place--does he think he will return?" what was the object of this answer turned into another question? what was in tyingoza's mind? however i replied: "he is inclined to think not. he thinks his relation has wandered away somewhere--perhaps into the river, and will never be heard of again." "ah! into the river! well, that might be, iqalaqala. into the river! the ways of you white people are strange, _impela_!" tyingoza, you see, was enigmatical, but then he often was, especially if he thought i was trying to get behind his mind--as he put it. clearly he was not going to commit himself to any definite opinion regarding the disappearing hensley. "ukozi is in these parts," i went on. "ukozi? ha! i have not seen him. did he visit you here?" "not here," i answered, with intent to be as enigmatical as himself. "ukozi is a very lion among _izanusi_. why do not the white people get him to find nyamaki?" "and the practice of an _isanusi_ is not allowed by the white people. how then can they make use of such?" i said. the chief shrugged his shoulders slightly, and there was a humorous twinkle in his eyes. "it is as you say, iqalaqala. yet their _amapolise_ cannot find him. you white people know a great deal, but you do not know everything." "now, tyingoza, i would ask: what people does?" then he laughed and so did i, and this was all i got out of my attempt at "pumping" tyingoza. yet, not quite all. that suggestion of his as to employing the witch doctor was destined to stick. afterwards it was destined to come back to me with very great force indeed. now i began to shut up the store, early in the day as it was, for i meant to go over to the sewins. it would be almost my last visit: for the preparations for my trip were nearly complete and in two or three days i proposed to start. moreover i had received a note from the old major, couched in a reproachful vein on behalf of his family, to the effect that i was becoming quite a stranger of late, and so forth; all of which went to show that my plan of not giving them more of my company than i thought they could do with--had answered. "so you are going _kwa zulu_ directly?" said tyingoza, as he took his leave. "and not alone. that is a pity." he had never referred to falkner's practical joke. now, of course, i thought he was referring to it. "well, the boy is only a boy," i answered. "i will keep him in order once over there, that i promise." again his eyes twinkled, as he bade me farewell with all his usual cordiality. not much of this remark did i think, as i took my way down the now well worn bush path, but i own that the idea of employing ukozi to throw light on the disappearance of hensley, gave me something to think of-- for as i have said before, i had reason to respect the powers claimed-- and undoubtedly possessed--by many of his craft. i would put it to kendrew. it was his affair not mine, and if anyone moved in the matter it should be he. there was an ominous stillness about the sewins' homestead as i approached, and i own to a feeling of considerable disappointment as the thought crossed my mind that the family was away, but reassurance succeeded in the shape of a large white dog, which came rushing furiously down the path, barking in right threatening fashion--only to change into little whines of delight and greeting as it recognised me. this was a factor in the sewin household which i have hitherto omitted to introduce. he was one of the campagna breed of sheep herding dogs, and was aida's especial property, she having discovered him as a puppy during a tour in italy. he was a remarkably handsome beast, pure white, and was of the size and strength of a wolf, to which he bore a strong family likeness. he had honoured me with his friendship from the very first--a mark of favour which he was by no means wont to bestow upon everybody, as his mistress was careful to point out. "well, arlo, old chap. where are they all?" i said, as the dog trotted before my horse, turning to look back with an occasional friendly whine. as i drew rein in front of the stoep falkner came forth, looking very handsome and athletic in his snowy linen suit, for it was hot. "hallo glanton, glad to see you," he said, quite cordially, but in rather a subdued tone for him. "come round and off-saddle. they'll be out in a minute, they're having prayers, you know. i slipped out when i heard your horse." it was sunday, and the major, i remembered, made a point of reading the church service on that day: in the middle of which i had arrived. "tell you what, old chap," he went on. "i'm rather glad of the excuse. beastly bore that sort of thing, don't you know, but the old people wouldn't like it if i were to cut." "only the old people?" i said. "no, the whole bilin' of 'em. life wouldn't be worth living for the rest of the day if i didn't cut in. so i do--just to please them all. see? well, we'll go and smoke a pipe till they come out." falkner had pulled out quite a genial stop to play upon for my benefit-- but then, i had agreed to take him with me on the trip. on the subject of which he now waxed eloquent. would we certainly be on the road by wednesday, and was there anything he could do, and so forth? i was able to reassure him abundantly on these points, and his exuberant delight was like that of a schoolboy on the eve of the holidays, causing me to think to myself rather sadly, that were i in his shoes, with a home like this, and the society of sweet, refined english ladies for my daily portion, i would not be in the least eager to exchange it for the roughness and ups and downs of a trading trip and the kraals of savages. but then after all, there was a considerable difference in our years, and my experience was a good deal behind me, whereas his was not. soon the family came out, and i was received with all the accustomed cordiality, and rather more. why had i not been near them for so long, especially as i was about to go away for quite a considerable time, and so forth? i began to feel self-reproachful, as i thought of my motive, but it was not easy to find an excuse, the usual "rather busy," and when i tried i could see aida sewin's clear eyes reading my face, and there was the faintest glimmer of a smile about her lips that seemed to say plainly: "i don't believe a word of it." "so you're going to take this fellow with you after all, glanton," said the major as we sat down to lunch. "well, you'll have a handful, by jove you will! i hope you'll keep him in order, that's all." "oh he'll be all right, major," i said. "and the experience won't do him any harm either." "don't you go trying any more experiments at the expense of the chiefs' head-rings up there, falkner," said edith, the younger girl. "oh shut up," growled falkner. "that joke's a precious stale one. i seem to be getting `jam and judicious advice' all round, by jove!" "well, and you want it--at any rate the advice--only you never take it," was the retort. "nobody ever does, miss edith," i said, coming to his rescue. "advice is one of those commodities people estimate at its own cost--nothing to wit; and set the same value upon it." "now you're cynical, mr glanton," she answered, "and i don't like cynical people." "that's a calamity, but believe me, i'm not naturally so. why i rather set up for being a philanthropist," i said. "you certainly are one, as we have every reason to know," interposed her sister. i felt grateful but foolish, having no mind to be taken seriously. but before i could stutter forth any reply, which was bound to have been an idiotic one, she went on, tactfully: "for instance that boy you sent us--ivondwe. why he's a treasure. everything has gone right since he came. he can talk english, for one thing." "can he? that's an accomplishment i should never have given him credit for, and i don't know that it's altogether a recommendation. you know, we don't care for english-speaking natives. but you mustn't talk it to him, miss sewin. you must talk to him in the vernacular. how are you getting on, by the way?" "oh, indifferently. you might have given me a little more help, you know." the reproach carried its own sting. of course i might. what an ass i was to have thrown away such an opportunity. "yes, he's a first-rate boy, glanton," said the major. "i don't know what we should do without him now." "you haven't started in to punch his head yet, eh falkner?" i said, banteringly, rather with the object of turning attention from my share in this acquisition. "the curious part of it is that arlo won't take to him," went on miss sewin. "he's on perfectly good terms with the other boys but he seems to hate this one. not that ivondwe isn't kind to him. he tries all he can to make friends with him but it's no good. arlo won't even take food from him. now why is this?" "i'm afraid that's beyond me," i answered, "unless it is that the instinct of a dog, like that of a horse, isn't quite so supernaturally accurate as we accustom ourselves to think." this was a subject that was bound to start discussion, and animated at that--and soon i found myself in somewhat of a corner, the ladies, especially, waxing warm over the heretical insinuation i had made. then the major, drawing on his experiences as a cavalry officer, took my side on the subject of equine intelligence, or lack of it, and falkner took up the impartial advocate line, and we were all very jolly and merry through it all, and certainly conversation did not lag. lunch over, the major announced his intention of having forty winks, and the rest of us adjourned to the stoep, and roomy cane chairs. "one thing i like about this country," pronounced falkner, when he had got a cigar in full blast, and was lounging luxuriously in a hammock--a form of recumbency i detest--"and that is that provided you're in the shade you can always sit out of doors. now in india you can't. it's a case of shaded rooms, and _chiks_, and a black beast swinging a punkah-- whom you have to get up and kick every half-hour when he forgets to go on--till about sundown. here it's glorious." i was inclined to share his opinion, and said so. at the same time there came into my mind the full consciousness that the glorification here lay in the peculiar circumstances of the case--to wit the presence and companionship of these two sweet and refined girls. the elder was in creamy white, relieved by a flower or two, which set off her soft dark beauty to perfection; the other was garbed in some light blue gossamer sort of arrangement which matched her eyes and went wonderfully with her golden hair, and ladies, if you want anything more definitely descriptive i'm afraid you'll be disappointed, for what do i, godfrey glanton, trader in the zulu, know about such awesome and wondrous mysteries? i only know--and that i do know--when anything appeals to me as perfect and not to be improved upon--and the picture which these two presented certainly did so appeal. outside, the blaze of sunlight--rich, full, and golden, without being oppressive or overpowering--lay slumbrous upon the sheeny roll of foliage. here and there the red face of a krantz gleamed like bronze, and away on a distant spur the dark ring of a native kraal sent upward its spiral of blue smoke. bright winged little sugar birds flitted familiarly in and out among the passion flower creeper which helped to shade the stoep, quite unaffected by our presence and conversation-- though half scared temporarily as a laugh would escape falkner or myself. striped butterflies hovered among the sunflowers in front, and the booming hum of large bees mingled with the shriller whizz of long-waisted hornets sailing in and out of their paper-like nests under the roof--and at these if they ventured too low, arlo, whose graceful white form lay curled up beside his mistress' chair, would now and again fling up his head with a vicious snap. the scene, the hour, was one of the most perfect and restful peace: little did we think, we who sat there, enjoying it to the full, what of horror and dread lay before us ere we should look upon such another. chapter twelve. the mystery of the waterhole. suddenly arlo sprang up, barking furiously. "shut up, you brute," growled falkner, for this sudden interruption had, as he put it, made him jump. but the dog heeded him not, as he sprang up and rushed down the steps still giving vehement tongue. "be quiet, arlo, do you hear!" ordered his mistress. "it's only ivondwe." the calm clear voice commanded obedience where falkner's bluster did not. to the furious barking succeeded a series of threatening growls, not loud but deep. in the midst of which the innocent cause of the disturbance appeared, smiling, and as little perturbed by this sudden and rather formidable onslaught, as though it were a matter of an ordinary kraal cur. to the physiognomist this ivondwe was a remarkably prepossessing native--rather handsome in the good-looking style of his race. he had a pleasant, open countenance, good-humoured withal, and when he smiled it would be hard to equal his display of magnificent white teeth. though somewhat past his first youth and the owner of a couple of wives he did not wear the head-ring; for he was fond of earning money in doing spells of work for white men, such as waggon driving, or the sort of job on which he was now engaged: and this being so he held, and perhaps rightly, that the ring would not be exactly in keeping. i had known him well for some time and had always had a high opinion of him. now he saluted, and addressing himself to falkner, in very fair english, asked leave to go over to a neighbouring kraal after the cattle were in. there was a merrymaking there, on the strength of the wedding of someone or other of his numerous kinsfolk. "so, ivondwe," i said, in the vernacular, when he had got his answer. "so you speak with the tongue of the amangisi, and i knew it not?" he laughed. "that is so, iqalaqala," he answered. "yet it is well for umsindo, who is long since tired of talking to deaf ones. _au_! how shall he talk yonder--_kwa_ majendwa?" umsindo, meaning a man who is given to swagger, was falkner's native name, though he didn't know it. "that we shall see," i said. "it may be that by then his tongue will have become loosened. but now, while he is away you must do well by these here. they treat you well, and their hands are very open--so open that soon you will be for building a new hut." he laughed, and owned that such might indeed be the case. all the while the great white dog was walking up and down behind him, eyeing his calves and snarling malevolently. "the dog," i went on. "he is very unfriendly towards you. why?" "who may say? the dogs of the white people are seldom friendly to us, and our dogs are seldom friendly to the whites. and this dog is very white." i got out a large native snuff tube i always carried, and gave him some. "come up to isipanga before we start," i said. "i have a present there for him who should serve these faithfully." "you are my father, iqalaqala," and with this formula of thanks, he once more saluted and went his way. "what have you been talking about all this time?" said edith sewin. "by the way isn't it extraordinary that arlo won't take to ivondwe? such a good boy as he is, too." "perhaps he's a thundering great scoundrel at bottom," said falkner, "and arlo's instinct gets below the surface." "who's a thundering great scoundrel at bottom, falkner?" said mrs sewin's voice in the doorway. "eh. oh come now, aunt. you mustn't use these slang terms you know. look, you're shocking glanton like anything." "you'll shock him more for an abominably rude boy who pokes fun at his elders," laughed the old lady. "but come in now and have tea. what a lovely afternoon it is--but a trifle drowsy." "meaning that somebody's been asleep," rejoined falkner mischievously, climbing out of his hammock. "oh well. so it is. let's go for a stroll presently or we shall all be going to sleep. might take the fishing lines and see what we can get out of the waterhole." "fishing lines? and it's sunday," said mrs sewin, who was old fashioned. "oh i forgot. never mind the lines. we can souse arlo in and teach him to dive." "we can do nothing of the kind," said arlo's owner, decisively. "he came within an ace of splitting his poor dear head the last time you threw him in, and from such a height too. what do you think of that, mr glanton?" turning to me. and then she gave me the story of how falkner had taken advantage of the too obedient and confiding arlo--and of course i sympathised. when we got fairly under way for our stroll--i had some difficulty by the bye in out-manoeuvring the major's efforts to keep me pottering about listening to his schemes as to his hobby--the garden to wit--the heat of the day had given place to the most perfect part of the same, the glow of the waning afternoon, when the sun is but one hour or so off his disappearance. we sauntered along a winding bush path, perforce in single file, and soon, when this widened, i don't know how, but i found myself walking beside miss sewin. i believe i was rather silent. the fact is, reason myself out of it as i would, i was not in the least anxious to leave home, and now that it had come to the point would have welcomed any excuse to have thrown up the trip. yet i was not a millionaire--very far from it--consequently money had to be made somehow, and here was a chance of making quite a tidy bit--making it too, in a way that to myself was easy, and absolutely congenial. yet i would have shirked it. why? "what is preoccupying your thoughts to such an alarming extent," said my companion, flashing at me a smile in which lurked a spice of mischief. "is it the cares and perils of your expedition--or what?" "by jove--i must apologise. you must find me very dull, miss sewin," i answered, throwing off my preoccupation as with an effort. "the fact is i believe i was thinking of something of the kind--ruling out the `perils.' do you know, i believe you've all been rather spoiling me here--spoiling me, i mean, for--well, for my ordinary life. but-- anyhow, the memory of the times i have known lately--of days like this for instance--will be something to have with one, wherever one is." i was stopped by a surprised look in her face. her eyes had opened somewhat, as i had delivered myself of the above rather lame declamation. yet i had spoken with quite an unwonted degree of warmth, when contrasted with my ordinary laconic way of expressing myself. "good lord!" i thought, "i seem to be getting sentimental. no wonder she thinks i've got softening of the brain." but if she thought so she gave no sign of anything of the sort. on the contrary her tone was kind and sympathetic, as she said: "strange how little we can enter into the lives of others. now yours, i suppose, is lonely enough at times." "oh, i've nothing to complain of," i answered with a laugh, anxious to dispel any impression of sentimentality which my former words and tone might have set up. "i started on this sort of life young, and have been at it in one way or another ever since. it hasn't used me badly, either." she looked at me, with that straight, clear glance, and again a little smile that was rather enigmatical, hovered around her lips. but before she could say anything, even if she had intended to, falkner's voice was raised in front. "wake up, aida, and come along. i'm just going to heave arlo in." "no. you're not to," she cried hurrying forward. the others had already reached the waterhole, and there was falkner, on the rock brink, holding on to arlo, grinning mischievously. the dog was licking his hands, and whining softly, his tail agitating in deprecatory wags. he wasn't in the least anxious for the plunge--and speaking personally i should have been uncommonly sorry to have undertaken to make him take it against his will, but then falkner was one of the family. now there was a half playful scrimmage between him and his cousin, in the result of which arlo was rescued from taking what really was rather a high leap, and frisked and gambolled around us in delight. this waterhole or pool, was rather a curious one. it filled a cup-like basin about twenty-five yards across, surrounded by precipitous rocks save at the lower end, and here, overflowing, it trickled down to join the tugela, about half a mile distant. it was fed from a spring from above, which flowed down a gully thickly festooned with maidenhair fern. where we now stood, viz. at the highest point, there was a sheer drop of about twenty feet to the surface of the water--a high leap for a dog, though this one had done it two or three times and had come to no harm. the hole was of considerable depth, and right in the centre rose a flat-headed rock. it was a curious waterhole, as i said, and quite unique, and i more than suspected, though i could never get anything definite out of them, that the natives honoured it with some sort of superstitious regard. incidentally it held plenty of coarse fish, of no great size, likewise stupendous eels--item of course mud-turtles galore. "hie in, old dog! hie in!" cried falkner. but arlo had no intention whatever of "hie-ing in," being in that sense very much of an "old dog." he barked in response and frisked and wagged his tail, the while keeping well beyond reach of falkners treacherous grasp. "rum place this, glanton," said the latter. "i wonder there ain't any crocs in it." "how do you know there are not?" i said. "oh hang it, what d'you mean? why we've swum here often enough, haven't we?" "not very. still--it's jolly deep you know. there may be underground tunnels, connecting it with anywhere?" "oh hang it. i never thought of that. what a chap you are for putting one off a thing, glanton." "i never said there were, mind. i only suggested the possibility." he raised himself on one elbow, and his then occupation--shying stones at every mud-turtle that showed an unwary head--was suspended. "by jove! are there any holes like this round hensley's place?" he said earnestly. "not any," i answered. "this one is unique; hence its curiosity." "because, if there were, that might account for where the old chap's got to. underground tunnels! i never thought of that, by jove. what d'you think of that, edith? supposing you were having a quiet swim here, and some jolly croc grabbed you by the leg and lugged you into one of those underground tunnels glanton says there are. eh?" grinned falkner, who was fond of teasing his cousins. "i wouldn't be having a quiet swim in it, for one thing. i think it's a horrid place," answered the girl, while i for my part, mildly disclaimed having made any such statement as that which he had attributed to me. "bosh!" he declared. "why you can take splendid headers from the middle rock there. oh--good lord!" the exclamation was forcible, and to it was appended a sort of amazed gasp from all who saw. and in truth i was not the least amazed of the lot. for there was a disturbance in the depths of the pool. one glimpse of something smooth, and sinuous, and shiny--something huge, and certainly horrible--was all we obtained, as not even breaking the surface to which it rose, the thing, whatever it might be--sank away from sight. "what was it?" "can't say for certain," i said, replying to the general query. "it didn't come up high enough to take any shape at all. it might have been a big python lying at the bottom of the hole, and concluding it had lain there long enough came up, when the sight of us scared it down again. i'm pretty sure it wasn't a crocodile." "tell you what, glanton. you don't catch me taking any more headers in there again in a hurry," said falkner. "ugh! if we'd only known!" "there is prestige in the unknown," i said. "it may be something quite harmless--some big lizard, or a harmless snake." "well it's dashed odd we should just have been talking of that very sort of thing," said the major. "let's keep quiet now and watch, and see if it comes up again." we did, but nothing came of it. indeed if i alone had seen the thing i should have distrusted my senses, should have thought my imagination was playing me false. but they had all seen it. "i shall come down here again with the rifle and watch for an hour or two a day," said falkner. "or how would it be to try bait for the beast, whatever it is--eh, glanton?" "well you might try to-morrow. otherwise there isn't much time," i answered. "we trek on wednesday, remember." now all hands having grown tired of sitting there, on the watch for what didn't appear, a homeward move was suggested, and duly carried out. we had covered a good part of the distance when miss sewin made a discovery, and an unpleasant one. a gold coin which was wont to hang on her watch chain had disappeared. "i must go back," she said. "i wouldn't lose that coin for anything. you know, mr glanton, i have a superstition about it." she went on to explain that she had it at the time we had seen the disturbance in the waterhole so that it must have come off on the way down, even if not actually while we were on the rocks up there. of course i offered to go back and find it for her, but she would not hear of it. she must go herself, and equally of course i couldn't let her go alone. would i if i could? well, my only fear was that falkner would offer his escort. but he did not, only suggesting that as it was late it was not worth while bothering about the thing to-night. he would be sure to find it in the morning when he came up with a rifle to try and investigate the mystery of the pool. but she would not hear of this. she insisted on going back, and--i was jubilant. i knew the coin well by sight. it was of heavy unalloyed gold, thickly stamped with an inscription in arabic characters. but, as we took our way along the bush path, expecting every moment to catch the gleam of it amid the dust and stones, nothing of the sort rewarded our search, and finally we came to the rocks at the head of the pool. "this is extraordinary and more than disappointing," she said, as a hurried glance around showed no sign of the missing coin. "i know i had it on here because i was fingering it while we were looking at the water. i wouldn't have lost it for anything. what can have become of it, mr glanton? do you think it can have fallen into the water?" "that, of course, isn't impossible," i said. "but--let's have another search." i was bending down with a view to commencing this, when a cry from aida arrested me. "oh, there it is. look." she was standing on the brink of the rocks where they were at their highest above water, peering over. quickly i was at her side, and following her glance could make out something that glittered. it was in a crevice about five feet below, but as for being able to make it out for certain, why we could not. the crevice was narrow and dark. "i think i can get at that," i said, having taken in the potentialities of hand and foothold. "no--no," she answered. "i won't have it. what if you were to fall into the water--after what we have just seen? no. leave it till to-morrow, and bring a rope." this was absolutely sound sense, but i'll own to a sort of swagger, show-off, inclination coming into my mind. the climb down was undoubtedly risky, but it would be on her account. "as to that," i answered with a laugh, "even if i were to tumble in, i should make such an almighty splash as to scare the father of all crocodiles, or whatever it is down there. by the time he'd recovered i should be out again on the other side." "don't risk it," she repeated earnestly. "leave it till to-morrow. with a long _reim_ you can easily get down." but i was already partly over the rock. in another moment i should have been completely so, with the almost certain result, as i now began to realise, of tumbling headlong into the pool below, when a diversion occurred. arlo, who had been lying at his mistress' feet, now sprang up, and charged furiously at the nearest line of bush, barking and growling like mad. chapter thirteen. the incident of the lost coin. the dog stopped short, hackles erect, and fangs bared, emitting a series of deep-toned growls which to the object of his hostility should have been disconcerting, to put it mildly. but, somehow, he seemed disinclined to pursue his investigations to the bitter end. this was strange. "what can it be?" was the thought in my own mind simultaneous with the voiced query of my companion. natives--ivondwe excepted--were wont to hold arlo in respect, not to say awe, upon first acquaintance. the one who now made his appearance, betrayed no sign of any such feeling, as he came towards us. yet he was armed with nothing more reliable than a slender redwood stick. he came forward, deliberately, with firm step, as though no aroused and formidable beast were threatening him with a very sharp and gleaming pair of jaws, the sun glinting upon his head-ring and shining bronze frame, came forward and saluted. then i noticed--we both noticed--that he had only one eye. "ha--ukozi. i see you--see you again," i observed, in greeting. "_inkosikazi_!" he uttered, saluting my companion. what struck me at that moment was the behaviour of the dog. instead of rushing in upon the new arrival, and putting him vigorously on the defensive until called off, as was his way, he seemed concerned to keep his distance, and while still growling and snarling in deep-toned mutter i could detect in his tone an unmistakable note of fear. this too was strange. "who is he?" said miss sewin, as the newcomer placidly squatted himself. "is he a chief?" "something bigger perhaps," i answered. "he's a witch doctor." "what? a witch doctor?" her eyes brightening with interest. "i thought witch doctors were horrid shrivelled old creatures who wore all sorts of disgusting things as charms and amulets." "most of them do, and so would this one when he's plying his trade in earnest. yet he's about the biggest witch doctor along this border, and his fame extends to zululand as well." "ah!" as an idea struck her. "now here's a chance for him to keep up his reputation. i wonder if he could find my coin." as we both knew where it was--or indeed in any case--the opportunity seemed not a bad one. but i said: "you must remember, miss sewin, that native doctors, like white ones, don't practice for nothing, and often on the same terms. what if this one should ask as the price of his services--no--professional attendance, shouldn't it be?--a great deal more than the lost article's worth?" "don't let him. but in any case i don't believe he has the ghost of a chance of finding it." "don't you be too sure," i said. and then, before i could open upon him on the subject ukozi opened on me on another. "nyamaki is not home again, iqalaqala?" i was beginning to get sick of the disappearing hensley by that time, so i answered shortly: "not yet." "ha! the queen cannot do everything, then. you did not go home that night, iqalaqala?" "i did not. your _muti_ is great, ukozi--great enough to stop a horse." "_muti_! who talks of _muti_? i did but foresee. and umsindo? he, too, did not reach nyamaki's house that night?" "no." "what is in the water yonder?" he went on, bending over to look into the pool, for he had squatted himself very near its brink. "it moves." both of us followed his gaze, instinctively, eagerly. and by jove! as we looked, there arose the same disturbance, the same unwinding of what seemed like a shining sinuous coil, yet taking no definite shape. again it sank, as it had risen, and a hiss of seething bubbles, and the circling rings radiating to the sides, alone bore witness to what had happened. "i declare it's rather uncanny," said my companion. "does he know what it is? ask him." i put it to ukozi. we had swum there several times, dived deep down too, nearly to the bottom, deep as it was, yet we had never been disturbed by anything. only to-day, before his arrival, had we seen this thing for the first time--and that only once. he echoed my words, or part of them. "nearly to the bottom! but this place has no bottom." "now you forget, father of mystery," i said, knowingly. "it has, for we have sounded it, with a piece of lead at the end of a line." he looked amused, shaking his head softly. "yet, it is as i say," he answered. "it has no bottom." rapidly i gave miss sewin the burden of our conversation, and she looked puzzled. the while, arlo, crouching a few yards off, was eyeing the witch doctor strangely, uttering low growls which deepened every time he made a movement, and still, beneath the sound i could always detect that same note of fear. "what is in the water down there, ukozi?" i said. "not a crocodile. what then?" he was in no hurry to reply. he took snuff. "who may tell?" he answered, having completed that important operation. "yet, iqalaqala, are you still inclined--you and umsindo--to continue swimming there, and diving nearly to the bottom--ah-ah! nearly to the bottom?" he had put his head on one side and was gazing at me with that expression of good-humoured mockery which a native knows so well how to assume. i, for my part, was owning to myself that it would take a very strong motive indeed to induce me to adventure my carcase again within the alluring depths of that confounded _tagati_ pool, for so it now seemed. moreover i knew i should get no definite enlightenment from him--at any rate that day--so thought i might just as well try him on the subject of miss sewin's loss. but as i was about to put it to him he began: "that which you seek is not down there." "not down there?" i echoed. "but, what do we seek, father of the wise?" "it shines." the thing was simple. he had found it and planted it somewhere, with a view to acquiring additional repute, and--incidentally--remuneration. "i think we shall recover your coin, miss sewin," i said. "ah. he can find it for us then? if he does i shall become quite a convert to witch doctorism, for want of a better word." "you will see. now, ukozi. where is that which we seek?" "_au_! it shines--like the sun. to find it something else that shines will be necessary. something that shines--like the moon." i laughed to myself over this "dark" saying, and produced a half-crown-- a new one. "here is what shines like the moon at full," i said. he held out both hands, looked at it for a moment as it lay in the hollow thus formed, then said: "halfway between this and where you left the other white people is a redwood tree--of which two sticks point over the path. from the path on the other side, a slope of smooth rock falls away. just below this-- resting upright between two stones--one pointed, the other round--is that which you seek." briefly i translated this to my companion. her reception of it showed a practical mind. "what if he wants to send us off on a fool's errand while he climbs down to the crevice there and gets hold of the real coin?" she said. "well, of course, nothing's impossible. but, do you know, i believe him. i would in fact risk a considerable bet on it." "well, i am in your hands, mr glanton," she said. "you know these people thoroughly. i, not at all." to tell the truth, i believed ukozi's statement completely, so much so as not to think it worth while bothering about any thought of the responsibility i might be incurring. otherwise i might have foreseen a reproachful manner, and a sinking in her estimation, if we found nothing. so i poured the contents of my snuff tube into ukozi's hands and bade him farewell. "i declare i feel quite excited over this," aida sewin said, as we rapidly retraced our steps. "look. here is where we left the others-- and--there's the slab of rock." "yes. it won't be a difficult scramble. now miss sewin, you shall have the opportunity of verifying ukozi's dictum yourself. so--you go first." in a moment we were below the rock--a matter of ten yards' descent--and, in a small dry watercourse beneath we descried the glint of something. a cry of delight escaped her. "why, here it is. just exactly as he described. come and look, mr glanton." sure enough at our feet, leaning almost upright between the two stones-- the pointed one and the round--was the lost coin. "but what was it we saw in the crevice?" she said, when the first astonishment was over. "that seemed to shine, too." "probably a point of rock worn smooth. well, ukozi has again borne out his reputation." "again? why? have you tried him before?" her eyes seemed to search my face. there was--or seemed to be--no prevaricating. "well, perhaps. once. or rather, he tried me. i'll tell you about it some day. by jingo, it's getting dark, and i don't like the look of the sky. the sooner we're in the better." great solid masses of cloud were banking up beyond the further ridge of the tugela valley, and a low boom of thunder shivered the still air. a storm was coming up; probably a heavy one. "how do you account for this kind of thing?" she said as we regained the path. "could he have been passing here at the time i dropped the coin, and deliberately planned a sort of _coup de theatre_?" "in that case arlo would have warned us of his presence. yet he gave no sign." "of course. and talking about arlo, wasn't it strange how he seemed not to mind that man's presence? why he can hardly be held in when a strange native comes about." "yes. i noticed it. i suppose his instinct must have told him ukozi was about to do us a good turn." she turned towards me, then shook her head. "you are turning it off, mr glanton, i can see that. yet there is something rather weird and inexplicable about the whole thing. you know, i was watching the witch doctor when the reptile or whatever it was came up in the pool, and it looked just as if he had raised it by some incantation. it is interesting very--but--rather eerie." "oh they have their tricks of the trade, which they don't divulge, you may be sure. the coin finding was really cleverly worked, however it was done; for, mind you, he came from quite the contrary direction, and, as a sheer matter of time, could have been nowhere near the place we found it in when we turned back." "it's wonderful certainly, and i'm very glad indeed to have found my coin again. you must have seen some strange things in the course of your experience among these people, mr glanton? tell me--what is the strangest of them?" "if i were to tell you you wouldn't believe me. hallo! we'd better quicken our pace. i suppose you don't want to arrive home wet through." the thundercloud had spread with amazing speed and blackness. the soft evening air had become hot and oppressive. some self-denial was involved on my part in thus hurrying her, for i would fain have drawn out this walk alone with her, having now become, as you will say, godfrey glanton complete fool. yet not such a fool as not to be blessed with a glimmer of common-sense, and this told me that, woman-like, she would not thank me for bringing her home in a state of draggled skirt and dripping, streaming hair, which would inevitably be the case did we fail to reach the house before the downpour should burst. we did however so reach it, and there a surprise awaited, to me, i may as well own, not altogether a pleasant one, for it took the shape of kendrew. now kendrew, as i have said, was a good fellow enough, yet this was the last evening i should spend here for some time. kendrew was all very well at his own place or at mine--but somehow i didn't want him here, at any rate not to-day, added to which he was a good-looking chap, and lively--a novelty too. there, you see--i am not above owning to my own small meannesses. it transpired moreover that i was the indirect agency through which he was there, for the first thing he said on seeing me was: "there you are, glanton. thought i'd ride up and see how you were getting on, and when i got to your place they told me you had come down here. so i thought i'd come on and find you, and take the opportunity of making major sewin's acquaintance at the same time. nothing like getting to know one's neighbours, and there ain't so many of them, eh?" "glad you did," i answered, shaking hands with him as heartily as ever. yet at bottom, that "neighbour" idea struck unpleasantly. kendrew as a neighbour was all very well, and i nailed him as such--for myself, but confound it, i didn't want him getting too "neighbourly" here; and that, too, just as i was going away myself for a time. and then i realised, more fully than ever, what it meant to me to be fulfilling the role of a sort of little providence to these people. now kendrew would lay himself out to do that during my absence, and in short, on my return i might find, to use a vulgar syllogism, that my own nose had been most effectually put out of joint. they had taken to him already, and were on the best of terms--i could see that. kendrew was one of those jolly, happy-go-lucky souls that people do take to on sight, and he had youth on his side. moreover my misgivings were in no wise dispelled by the look of surprised whole-hearted admiration which came into his face at sight of aida sewin. there was no mistaking this, for if there is one thing i pride myself on it is a faculty for reading every expression of the human countenance no matter how swift and fleeting such may be. perhaps it is that constant intercourse with savages has endowed me with one of their most unfailing characteristics, but, at any rate, there it is. "we're going to have a storm," said the major, looking upward. "aida-- glanton--you're only just in time. you too, mr kendrew. you'll stay the night of course?" kendrew answered that he'd be delighted, and forthwith began to make himself at home in his free and easy fashion. he was not in the least afflicted with shyness, and had no objection whatever to being drawn on the subject of his experiences. he had plenty of stories to tell, and told them well too, only perhaps it was rather mean of me to think that he need not so uniformly have made himself the hero of each and all of them. i don't know that i can plead in extenuation that when we sat down to table the fellow by some means or other contrived to manoeuvre himself into the chair next to miss sewin, a seat i had especially marked out for myself, and in fact usually filled. added to which, once there, he must needs fill up the intervals between blowing his own trumpet by talking to her in a confoundedly confidential, appropriating sort of style; which i entirely though secretly resented. and i was on the eve of an absence! decidedly events tended to sour me that evening--and it was the last. "what's the matter? did the old witch doctor tell you something momentous that you forgot to pass on to me? you are very silent to-night." it was her voice. we had risen from table and i had gone out on to the stoep, "to see if the storm was passing off," as i put it carelessly. there was a chorus of voices and laughter within, kendrew having turned the tables on falkner in the course of some idiotic chaff. "am i?" i answered. "i get that way sometimes. result of living alone, i suppose. no, ukozi did not tell me anything stupendous. amusing chap, kendrew, isn't he?" as another chorus of laughter went up from within. "he seems a nice sort of boy. and now--you start on wednesday? shall we see you again between this and then?" "i'm afraid not, miss sewin. tyingoza's nephew has disappointed me over the span of oxen he was going to hire me, and i shall have to spend to-morrow and the day after riding heaven knows where in search of another span. oxen--at any rate reliable ones--are precious scarce just now everywhere." "i'm sorry. i--we--shall miss you so much, mr glanton--and you have been so kind to us--" "that all?" i thought to myself bitterly. "sort of `make myself generally useful' blank that will create." her next words made me feel ashamed of myself. "but you will come and see us directly you return, won't you? i shall look forward to it, mind--and--i hate being disappointed." good heavens! the voice, the gleam of white teeth in the little smile, the softening of eyes in the starlight! had we been alone i believe i should have lost my head, and uttered i don't know what. but you can't say anything of that sort with a lot of people jabbering and laughing, and nothing between you and them but an open door and ditto window. "you shall not be disappointed in that very unimportant particular at any rate," i answered. "and you are good enough to say you will look forward to it. why i shall look forward to it every day until it comes." this was pretty plain-speaking and no mistake, but i had been surprised out of myself. what she might have answered i can't even conjecture, for at that moment through a lull in the racket within, was raised a voice. "glanton? yes. he's a good old buffer, glanton. why, what's become of him?" aida sewin's eyes met mine and i could see that she was bubbling over with the humour of the situation. we broke into a hearty laugh, yet not loud enough to reach those within. "there. now i hope you're duly flattered," she said. "a fresh unconsidered outburst like that must be genuine. we don't often hear so much good of ourselves even without being listeners." "but consider the qualifying adjective. that, you know, is rather rough." "not necessarily. only a term of good fellowship, i expect. no. you ought to feel brotherly towards him after that." somehow the whimsicality of it did avail to restore my good humour, or the words and tone of her utterances that went before may have had something to do with it. had she been reading my thoughts as i sat silent among the rest? well, what if she had? the storm had passed us by and a haze of continuous lightning in the loom of a receding cloud together with an occasional mutter away over the further ridge of the tugela valley was all that remained of it. she had moved towards the end of the stoep as though to obtain a nearer view of this. "i have something on my mind, miss sewin," i began, "and it is this. you are good enough to say i have been of use to you all, needless to say how delighted i am to have been able to be. well now, i shall be right out of the way for a time, and i am trying to puzzle out a plan of letting me know in case you might urgently want me." i don't know what on earth moved me to say this. why should they want me--urgently or otherwise? to my surprise she answered: "it would be a great relief to my mind if you could. i don't know what you'll think of me, mr glanton, but there are times when our isolation frightens me, and then i think we never ought to have come here. and now you are going away, and falkner, too. and--do you know, i have an uneasy feeling that i couldn't account for to save my life, but it's there, unfortunately. i believe it has something to do with the witch doctor, and that eerie affair down at the pool." "as to that don't let it affect you. ukozi is a clever specimen of a witch doctor but not a malevolent one. for the rest you are as safe here as you would be in any country part of england, and a good deal safer than in some." the words "we never ought to have come here" alarmed me. what if when i returned i should find them gone? oh, but--that wouldn't bear thinking of. so i did my best to reassure her, and to all appearances succeeded. yet if i had known then--or had the faintest inkling of--what i afterwards knew--well when i did it was too late. chapter fourteen. a bad beginning. we crossed umzinyati above where the blood river joins it. this was something of a round but i didn't want to pass through sirayo's section of the country; for it so happened i had had a bit of a breeze with him on a former occasion, and he would remember it; moreover his clan were a troublesome lot, and likely enough wouldn't stick at trifles--not the salt of zululand by any means. so i elected to make a few days of easy trek outside the border, and then cross over into zululand a good deal further north. old transport-riders will tell you there is no life so fascinating as that of the road. with all its hardships and drawbacks--drought, wet, waterless out-spans, mudholes into which wheels sink axle deep, bad and flooded drifts, involving hours of labour, and perhaps the borrowing of a brother trekker's friendly span--heat, cold--everything--yet the sense of being on the move, the constant change of scene, even of climate--has a charm all its own. this i can quite believe--because the waggon life off the road is even more fascinating still, in that the drawbacks are fewer, and you are more independent. you trek or outspan at your own sweet will, undeterred by any misgivings as to goods being delayed an inordinate time in delivery and the potential loss of future commissions in consequence. and you have time and opportunity to indulge in sport if there is any to be had, and there generally is when you are right off the roads, unless the country carries too thick a population. these advantages held good of our then trek. i had a first-rate tent waggon of which mention has already been made. this, besides its load of the lighter kinds of trade goods was fitted up with a _kartel_ and mattress, for bad weather accommodation--in fine weather we preferred sleeping on the ground. for the heavier kind, blankets and salampore cloth, pots and kettles and so forth, i had loaded up a buckwaggon, constructed to carry anything up to twelve or fourteen thousand pounds weight. thus we travelled--carrying our home along with us. a surprise had come upon me almost at the last moment, and that was that by no possibility could i get any natives in our neighbourhood to cross the zulu border. those who had at first engaged to cried off. if i had been trekking with only one waggon i could have cut the knot of the difficulty by driving it myself, and making my body servant tom--who would have gone to the ends of the earth with me, and to the devil after that--act as leader, but i had two. ivondwe i knew would have gone, but i could not think of taking him away from the sewins. the thing became seriously annoying. i appealed to tyingoza. what was the matter with all the people? were they afraid, and, if so, what of? he was rather mysterious. there were rumours around that the zulus were not well disposed towards white people, he hinted, especially those away on the northern border, where the king's authority was least strong. that being so those in the position of white men's servants would undergo risk--grave risk. but he would see what he could do, and in the result he found me one man who understood driving. this man, whose name was mfutela, came from a kraal not far from maritzburg. he was a ringed man, and brought with him his son, a youngster of about fifteen, to do leader. that would do. things were brightening so far. i could drive one of the waggons myself, until such time as i had taught falkner sewin enough of the art to enable him to relieve me, and having thus decided i was all ready to start when--another turned up. this fellow was something of a mystery, and was not keen on answering questions, but i gathered that his name was jan boom, at least that was the only name he would own to, and that he was a xosa from the cape frontier--far enough away in all conscience--who had drifted up to these parts. i suspected he had "drifted" out of gaol, and that before the time appointed to him for compulsorily serving the government had expired; but with this i didn't concern myself at all. he was first-rate at working with oxen and that was all i cared about. falkner sewin, contrary to my expectations, had given no trouble to speak of. he would grumble outrageously at first when i turned him out before it was light so as to be ready for the earliest possible trek, and on one occasion turned nasty. he hadn't come along as my servant, he fumed, and wasn't going to take orders from me. so i reminded him that it was no question of taking orders, but he had even gone so far as to promise to do all he was told. i pointed out further that i hadn't asked him to help me in any way, but that if he was going to do anything to hinder me why there was nothing to prevent him changing his mind and finding his way home again: we had not come so far that he would meet with any great difficulty in the way of this. he saw i meant what i said, and after sulking for half a day he climbed down, which was as well, for if there was one thing i intended it was to be skipper of my own ship. all the same he was destined to prove a mighty handful before i'd done with him. we trekked easy the first few days, for the grass was not so green as it might have been, and i wanted to avoid pushing my oxen while the waggons were loaded at their heaviest, and so far had met with no adventures. the first was to come, and it came in this wise. we had crossed the blood river, and after an extra long morning's trek had outspanned on one of the small tributaries of that stream. we had not seen many people hitherto, and the demeanour of such as we had seen was strange; not exactly hostile, but sullen, and as different as possible to the light-hearted, good-humoured cordiality i had always found on previous trips into the zulu country. perhaps this had something to do with the extra caution i laid upon falkner, when having resolved to take advantage of our halt to ride over and visit a neighbouring chief with whom i had former acquaintance i saddled up with that intent. i took my boy tom along, more because it enhances your prestige to move about attended than for any use i had for him, but falkner couldn't come to any harm. jan boom the xosa, spoke fair english, in case any of the natives should visit the outspan, and their speech require interpreting, and the other driver mfutela, seemed a reliable man. surely, one would think, there was no room for falkner to get into any mischief here. i was away about three hours. when i came in sight of the camp again, tom, who was trotting by the side of my horse, said something that made me start. i spurred forward. the outspan was hidden again by another rise in the ground. topping this here is what i saw. standing forth, in an attitude of the noble art of self-defence, was falkner sewin. his fists were clenched, and his rolled up sleeves showed a really magnificent display of brown and corded muscle. confronting him was a big zulu, equally muscular, and armed with a formidable knobkerrie and a small shield. for "gallery" but with their backs to me, squatted in a semi-circle about thirty more zulus. annoyed as i was, for the life of me i could not but feel interested. both the contending parties were watching each other intently and it was clear that so novel a mode of fighting had appealed to this warlike people to the extent of their allowing their adversary fair play instead of rushing him by weight of numbers. i had seen the same kind of thing among them before, notably on that occasion when tyingoza's son had accepted the invitation to head a sort of flying invasion of the opposite side. but now, as then, they were destined to forget the strict rules of fair play when blood was up. the zulu was waltzing round falkner, but the latter beyond turning to face him never moved, and his adversary seemed in no hurry to come within reach of those formidable fists. then, goaded perhaps by the jeers of his comrades, who were tiring of a fight wherein no blows were struck, he feinted at his adversary's head, then quick as thought threw up his shield and made a terrific sweep at falkner's leg beneath it. but the latter was up to this stale dodge--indeed, i myself had put him up to it. springing lightly aside, in time to avoid by a hair's-breadth a blow that would have shattered his kneecap and set him up with a highly respectable limp that would have lasted him for the term of his natural life, he shot out his right fist in such wise as to catch his assailant smack full on the side of the jaw. the big zulu went down like a shot buck hit in full course. "he's out!" cried falkner. "john, tell 'em to put up their next man." but before jan boom could render this injunction or not render it, the whole lot had sprung to their feet and a mighty hubbub ensued. they had seized their weapons, and were gesticulating and pointing at falkner: in fact, working themselves up to a state of wild and dangerous excitement. it was as well, perhaps, that unseen by them i was near enough to interpose. "hold!" i roared. "hold! what means this? and who are ye that rush into my camp with weapons in your hands?" as i said, i had approached unseen, and now the very suddenness of my appearance availed to stay the tumult, for a moment. but only for a moment. "who are we? _au_! _mlungu_! that is no matter. your oxen have eaten up our corn and now you must make it good. you must make it good we say." "_umlungu_" meaning simply "white man" was impudent, especially as i was sure some, if not all, of these knew me. at that moment i took in that they were all young men, of any age not much overtopping twenty, consequently at the most reckless and mischievous stage of human existence. "go--go," i answered. "send your fathers here. i talk not with children." the hubbub grew deafening and they drew in closer--growling, chattering in their fine deep voices, pointing viciously at us with their blades. my taunt had exasperated them to a dangerous degree. one fellow went so far as to dance out from among the rest and _gwaza_ at me with his assegai, and all were brandishing theirs and closing in upon us nearer and nearer. i have always made a point of never being afraid of savages, but really when you get an irresponsible young ruffian lunging an eighteen-inch assegai blade within half that distance of your nose, and he backed up by thirty others, the situation begins to have its skeery side. "keep 'em steady a minute, glanton, while i get out our `barkers'," said falkner. "that'll start 'em to the rightabout double quick." "no. better leave that. they're only blowing off steam." but i wasn't easy: more, i realised that the situation was a confoundedly ticklish one. they were working each other up into a state of ungovernable excitement, and simply howling down whatever i was trying to say. if i had had my pistol on i believe i should have drawn it, but it was at that moment reposing in one of the waggon pockets, some twenty-five yards behind us. the same held good of falkner's. he, characteristically, now brought matters to a crisis. "shut that silly jaw," he growled, seizing the wrist of a fellow who was doing _gwaza_ with a big assegai close to his face, and, with the other hand hitting him a terrific blow right between the eyes, felling him. then i thought my last hour had come, but no--they fell back as though scared. falkner's fighting powers had done us yeoman's service after all, was the thought that flashed through my mind--and then i saw that it was not so; that our respite was due to another cause. unseen by either party to the turmoil two zulus had come up--and one of them i knew, and knowing him, felt devoutly thankful that he was a pretty considerable chief. "now i see men," i said, "men with rings on. now i can talk. greeting, nonguza." he answered me with scant cordiality. he was a tall, fine man, but his face was heavy and sullen, more than that, it was a cruel face. the glance he shot at falkner especially was not benevolent. "i see you, iqalaqala," he said. "what is this, for my dogs seem to be barking over loud!" i told him what i knew, which was little enough, and calling the waggon drivers we got at the rest of it. they had gone to look after the oxen, which were turned loose to graze, and had arrived in time to find a crowd of armed zulus driving them off. some had come for themselves, driving them up to the waggons, threatening them. it was then that falkner sewin had come out, and singling out the spokesman had challenged him to fight. nonguza called to two of the rioters, and ordered them to tell their story. it was soon told. they had found our oxen eating and trampling the corn of their father, magebe, and had driven them off until their owners should pay for the damage. now magebe proved to be the man who accompanied nonguza, and on hearing this he became excited, and must needs rush off to ascertain what damage had been done. this jan boom pronounced to be next to nothing. "they were hardly in the field at all, baas," he said in an undertone, and excellent english. "zulu nigger one damn great big liar." the speaker being some shades darker in colour than any zulu there present i could hardly restrain a laugh. falkner couldn't. he guffawed outright. the chief looked angry. "steady, sewin," i warned. "you're spoiling everything." then to magebe. "we had better all go and look what has been done. then we can settle it." the mealie crop was only just over the rise, so we were there very soon. i had told falkner to come too, fearing he might get into more mischief if left behind: and yet it was almost as bad having him, for he eyed the two zulus with a sort of resentful contempt, more than once expressing a desire to knock their qualified heads together. even as jan boom had said, the damage proved to be very slight; but magebe, an old man and avaricious, set to work to make the most of it. half his crop was ruined and so forth. i must pay him two oxen. of course i had no intention of doing anything of the sort, so we adjourned to the waggons again to talk it over. there the discussion became long and heated, notwithstanding the fact that i opened it by filling them up with a great deal of black coffee and sugar. nonguza, who did most of the talking, and i felt sure would claim the lion's share of the spoil whatever it might be, was especially curt and offensive. i got sick of it at last. "here," i said, spreading a new green blanket on the ground, and piling upon it a couple of big butcher knives--which zulus dearly love--some strings of black and white beads, a few brass buttons and a goodly length of roll tobacco. "this is more than twice the damage my oxen have done. so now, magebe, take it, and i will send one of my drivers with these two," pointing to the two young zulus who had explained matters, "and he will bring back the oxen." but magebe objected that this was not enough, no, not nearly enough. "there it is. take it or leave it. if you leave it, then we leave the zulu country--walk out of it, for we cannot drag our waggons. then, when the great great one--he who sits at undini--is called upon to make good the loss of two spans of oxen, two waggons and the whole of their contents--to the englishmen whose oxen were taken--were taken by nonguza, the induna whom he sent to keep order here on the boundary, what will he say, that lion--what will he do? tell me that. what will he do?" "i know nothing of your oxen, umlungu," said nonguza, sullenly. "it is not i who have taken them." "not you? ha! when an induna of the king is present, is he greater than only the head of a kraal--a large kraal certainly--or is he less? tell me that, nonguza?" it was a good game of bluff to play, and i was about at the end of my patience. i held trumps and i knew my hand, for i knew perfectly on what errand this chief was there. now he turned and gave an order to those who had lately been threatening us, and i knew that the game was won. yet even then, as i noted the look of sullen vindictiveness that fled swiftly across the chief's face, i was not inclined to exult, for i was well aware that he would go a good way to be even with me yet, and in the then unsettled state of the border it would be strange if some opportunity of making himself disagreeable did not afford itself. "well, i'm sick of all this jaw with a couple of snuffy niggers, glanton," growled falkner. "what's going to be done?" "oh shut your silly head," i said, irritably, for of course an unconciliatory tone tells its own tale even though no word is understood. "i suspect your readiness to bash all and everybody is at the bottom of the whole bother." "well, if a brute comes at me brandishing a stick with a knob like a cricket ball i've got to do something, haven't i?" he answered, lighting his pipe and slouching away in the sulks. i was in no better humour, to tell the truth, but laid myself out to do the civil to nonguza, by way of smoothing his ruffled feathers. then, as time went by, and i was beginning to feel a little anxious once more, to my intense relief my ears caught a well-known sound, the trampling of hoofs to wit, and lo--coming over the rise were my oxen, driven at a run by those who had taken them. i gave orders at once to inspan, returning a curt negative to magebe's inquiries as to whether i would not stop and trade. i was going _kwa_ majendwa, i answered. there no mistake would be made as to who i was. so we marched forth with all the honours of war, but as the whips cracked, and the spans tugged out in response i noticed that the cloud of armed zulus watching us was increased by others coming over the ridge--part of nonguza's impi--and thought we should be lucky if we escaped further trouble at the hands of these. it was a bad beginning to our trip--in the temper the people were evidently then in--yes, a bad beginning. chapter fifteen. two of a trade. when dolf norbury learned that another white man was coming to majendwa's country on trading intent, his first remark was that he was damned if he should. this statement he followed up with the use of absolutely unprintable language for the space of many minutes. his first act was to shy a bottle at the head of his informant, who ducked in time to avoid disastrous contact with the same, and then to make him exceedingly drunk with the contents of another bottle, not yet reduced to its last use--as a missile to wit. this by way of compensation. the process had another effect, that of making the injured man talk. he for his part was a young zulu of no particular account, and what he stated was perfectly true, he went on to declare. the white man was a trader known as iqalaqala, and with him was another white man, a great fighter, who could knock men senseless with his fists even as one might do with a large and heavy stick. he who spoke knew, for he had seen it done--not once only, either. at this dolf norbury's language grew vehement and sultry again, and was interlarded by many aspirations after just one glimpse of the man who could knock _him_ senseless or knock him anything else. only just one glimpse, that was all. the next thing he did, by way of relieving his feelings was to start in and thrash the nearest of his native wives--of which he had several--she, unfortunately for her, being the one of least family standing, and therefore the least likely to raise resentment on the part of the relatives--or others, a thing which is bad for trade. then he opened a bottle of "square face," took a very big drink, and putting the bottle in a pocket or his leather coat went round to the chief's hut. "i have news, mawendhlela," he began, when he found himself inside. "but"--with a look at some others who were seated there--"it will keep." not long was it before these took the hint, and stole out, one by one. the chief's eyes twinkled as he noted the familiar bulge in the pocket of his visitor. "_au_! it is cold," he said, pretending to shiver, "and i am getting on in years and need warmth." "this will give it you," said the white man, producing the bottle. the chief's eyes sparkled as he watched the gurgling rush of the potent liquid into the calabash drinking vessel. then he tossed off half of it with a gasp of contentment. "that is indeed warm--yes, warm," he said. "and good. but there will soon be no more." "no more? now why, udolfu?" "because i am going--going away." "going away? now that cannot be." "it can and it is. there is no longer room for me here. there is a cow at hand who will give you more milk than i can, but not such milk as this--oh no!" "ha!" "it is iqalaqala who is the cow that lows at the gate. iqalaqala does not trade in strong drink--neither will he bring you any guns or cartridges or powder and lead. his trade is the trade for women--beads, coloured cloth, and such." "m-m! why then, udolfu, there is still room for you here, for iqalaqala can do the women's trade and you can still do that for men--guns and cartridges--and drink like this--like this--which warms--ah, ah, which warms," added the chief finishing his allowance of "square face" and pushing his calabash meaningly towards the other. "but i will not. there is no room for two here. i will have all the trade or none." mawendhlela's face fell. he was a man who liked his comfort and the enjoyment of a daily modicum of "square face" gin, or natal rum had become essential to this. as a chief he was not unmindful of certain plain hints on the part of those very high up indeed in the councils of the nation, to the effect that those under them were required to obtain the weapons of the white man as far as this could possibly be done. yet here was the man who supplied him with both, threatening to withdraw. he saw the loss of his beloved drink with dismay, and with even greater dismay he contemplated the disfavour into which he would fall with those in high quarters, if his people showed but a poor muster in the way of firearms. the while dolf norbury was reading his thoughts, and could gauge their drift exactly. he knew, too, that personally mawendhlela and many of his people would gladly see the last of him--but, the above considerations were potent. "we cannot both trade here," he repeated. "iqalaqala must not be allowed to come. that's all." "what can i do, udolfu?" answered the chief helplessly. "majendwa is a bull that roars louder than i, and he has the ear of the great great one himself. it is to majendwa you must talk." "majendwa?" repeated the white man, with a scowl as though the very name was unpalatable to him--and, indeed, it was--"majendwa? _au_! his kraal is far enough away. but here, you are chief, you, mawendhlela. and for some days the people have been talking of the coming of iqalaqala! well, he must not come." they looked at each other for a little while in silence. then the chief spoke. "i can do nothing, udolfu," he repeated. "but you--_au_! you white people can do everything. and i do not want a white man who only brings trade for women." "then you leave it to me?" said the trader, reaching over the square bottle and replenishing the calabash. "it is nothing to me," said mawendhlela, carefully extracting a cockroach which had fallen from the thatch into his liquor, and throwing it into the fire. "no more than that--" as the insect crackled up. dolf norbury chuckled, and took a big drink himself. the life of another man, a fellow countryman--or, it might be of two men--was no more to him than that of the burnt insect. they understood each other. it may be asked how i am able to reproduce a dialogue between two persons sitting together alone in a hut--alone mind--and i many miles away at the time. well, passing over the question as to whether anyone ever really is alone--especially in a zulu kraal--rather than that the veracity of this my narrative be in any wise impugned, i would remind the reader that at an earlier stage thereof i took him into confidence so far as to explain that i was wont to derive a considerable amount of information from native sources, and that such information was surprisingly accurate. so--there it is, you see! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the while we were trekking by slow and easy stages. there was a restlessness among the people as to which there could be no mistake. they were moving about in bands of ten or twenty instead of singly or in pairs, and fully armed, and now and then two or three men would come up hurriedly to the waggon, and hardly troubling to drop their weapons as required by etiquette, would start on again after a few words of inquiry as to our destination. in short the country seemed about as settled as an ant's nest the top of which has just been kicked off; and more than one rumour had it that armed collisions had occurred with the grazing boers beyond the luneburg and utrecht borders. towards ourselves the behaviour of the people was rather offhand and independent, the young men especially being inclined to treat us to quite an unnecessary display of swagger. this was a source of anxiety to me, in that it involved a continuous strain upon my moral influence to keep falkner sewin from his favourite pastime of head punching, and this was difficult. so far too, trade prospects seemed but poor. formerly from each group of kraals we passed, people would have come eagerly forth to do a deal-- now for ordinary trade goods they seemed to have no hankering. more than one head-man would ask, talking "dark," if i carried _what they wanted_, and on assuring themselves that i did not, soon showed no further desire to trade. now "what they wanted," done into plain english, meant firearms and ammunition, and this was a form of illicit trade from which i had always kept my hands clean. not that the temptation was not great at that. the profits were ditto and the risk to one with my facilities, hardly worth considering, and the same held good of liquor selling, though as to this latter perhaps considerations of self interest lay behind my scruples, for it was in no wise to my interest to bear part in ruining this fine race among whom i lived, and from whom i drew a living. for the rest, life was pleasant enough as we moved along easily-- outspanning during the heat of the day for several hours--and then trekking on until dark. then the night camp under the stars, when the savoury game stew--or if we couldn't get any game, the fried rashers of bacon, had been discussed, and pipes were in full blast--this constituted not the least pleasant moment of the day, as we sat and swapped yarns, to the accompaniment of the monotonous crunch-crunch of ruminating oxen tied to the yokes; or the occasional howl of a hyena, or the cry of some mysterious night bird coming up out of the surrounding blackness. all this my companion enjoyed immensely, as well he might. he did not so much enjoy the reverse side of the medal though, when a sudden thunderburst and a night of chilly, pelting downpour--which precluded all thoughts of a fire, or anything hot--drove us to huddle within the tent waggon, and browse upon biscuit and tinned stuff. however i had broken him in fairly well by that time, and he was disposed to take things as they came. now and again he would try my patience by some outbreak of mulish cussedness, but i remembered his character and training, and had no difficulty in keeping myself in hand. added to which i believe i entertained a sneaking softness towards the fellow if only that he constituted a connecting link with those i had left behind. those? well, to be candid, but--never mind. we were approaching the mountainous regions of the north, and the bushy valleys and slopes of the lower country had been left behind. the air grew clear and sharp, and the nights had become downright chilly. around, the hills rose in abrupt slopes, their sweep broken up into great terraces as it were, by tiers of smooth grey cliffs. to all appearance the country might have been uninhabited, but i knew better: knew that the great clefts which fell abruptly from the track contained teeming kraals, whose presence might easily remain unsuspected by the casual wayfarer: knew, too, that not a mile of our advance but was carefully watched and duly reported. in the zululand of those days the passage of a white man's waggons was an event, and that from more than one point of view. chapter sixteen. to blows. "here come men, _nkose_, and i think that they come to cause us trouble," said mfutela, shading his eyes to look up the road. i followed his glance. a dark crowd was swarming over the ridge half a mile in front, and in the then rising sun i could make out the glint of assegai blades. that was nothing, since every man in zululand at that time seemed to make a point of moving about with as many assegais as he could conveniently carry. but it was significant that at sight of us they should have halted for a moment, and then come forward at a run, shouting like mad. "is there to be no end to all these mischievous idiots and their larks?" i said, sourly and in english. and yet at the time i felt not altogether happy--things happen suddenly among savages. what if the tension on the transvaal border had already brought on an outbreak. "hallo! what's the row?" sang out falkner, from the tent waggon, into which he had dived to fetch something or other. "any more fellows whose heads want punching--eh, glanton?" "no," i answered more sourly still. "keep those itching knuckles of yours quiet for once--for heaven's sake." it was early morning as i have said, and we were in the act of inspanning. we had camped in an open valley, and in front lay a long acclivity of miry red track mapped out by ancient wheel ruts and rendered diabolical by a heavy rainfall during the night. it was at the head of this that the crowd had appeared, and looking at both i was all the less disposed to meet opposition with the good humour which is always advisable. "zulu nigga troublesome debbil," said jan boom, the xosa, who was fond of airing his english, and his contempt for those of his own colour who "had none." the new arrivals left us in no sort of doubt as to their intentions, for they charged straight for us, and waving their weapons roared out to us to stop. "tre-ek!" i yelled, seizing the whip from mfutela, and letting out the long lash in a couple of resounding cracks which had the effect of making one fellow who was brandishing a war-axe within an ace of tom's nose--who was leading--skip aside with some alacrity. jan boom, who was driving the other waggon, was quick to follow my example, and to the accompaniment of a cannonade of whip cracking and ear-splitting yells, the two spans tugged out laboriously over the heavy miry road. so far as our disturbers were concerned, i kept silence, by way of showing that i considered them beneath my notice, until i saw that their mouthings and gesticulations as they kept pace with us on either side, were likely to _schrik_ our two horses, leading on behind, to the point of nearly causing them to break their reims and rush away the devil knew where. "who are ye?" i shouted. "who are ye that come bellowing down upon me like a pack of kraal curs? you are not children either, for i see among you men with rings. go away." but the ringed men, to my surprise, were among the most boisterous. "turn back, umlungu," cried one of them. "turn back. it is the word of our father, mawendhlela." mawendhlela! the name set my misgivings at rest in a moment. mawendhlela a chief by virtue of birth and possessions, a man who was no warrior but one of the few zulus at that time who was addicted to gin, and disliked me because i had always steadfastly refused either to trade or give him any. "mawendhlela!" i echoed. "_hau_! i go to a bull that roars louder than he. i go to majendwa--to majendwa i say. now--go away." but this, to my surprise, they showed no inclination to do. on the contrary they closed up in such wise as to bring the front waggon to a standstill. short of cutting a way through them there was no method of proceeding, and there were about a hundred of them, all bristling with assegais. i had my revolver on though it was not visible, and for all their numbers i made up my mind to shoot the first who should lay a hand upon my people or my oxen: for there are times when forbearance may be stretched to a dangerous limit. what would have happened next i won't pretend to guess, but some sort of diversion must have occurred, for heads were turned, looking back over the way they had come. then the crowd parted, precipitately too, some tumbling over each other's heels in their alacrity to get out of the way, and through the lane thus opened there rode up at a furious pace, a man--a white man. "here, get out of this!" he bellowed, firing off a very blast of profanity. "turn your blanked oxen round, and trek back--d'you hear? trek back a sight quicker than you came. d'you hear?" "may i be permitted to ask why?" i said, sarcastically. "no, you mayn't and be damned to you. but i'll tell you. because i say so. that's why. because _i_ say so. you've heard of me." "don't know that i have. who might you be when you're at home?" "i'm dolf norbury. that's who i might be. dolf norbury, d'you hear? i've got the trade up here, and i'm damned if i'm going to have any dirty winkler from natal coming up here to make holes in it. now--d'you hear?" "winkler" meaning a small shopkeeper, was meant to be offensive. "oh, so you're dolf norbury, are you?" i said, pretending to be impressed. "that's right. i'm dolf norbury, and no man ever got the blind side of me and kept it. now--clear." "ah!" i said. "i'm godfrey glanton, and no man ever got the blind side of me and kept it. now--clear." i thought he would there and then have tumbled down in a fit. it happened that i had heard a good deal about this dolf norbury, but had only seen him once, at krantz kop, and that some years before; on which occasion, however, he had been far too drunk to remember me now. he was a big, roaring, buffalo bull of a fellow of about fifty, who would be sure to gain ascendency among savages if he laid himself out to do so. he had mawendhlela completely under his thumb, and that for a further reason than those which have just appeared, which was as well for himself, for the more respectable chiefs of zululand would have nothing to do with him by this time. he would have been turned out of the country, or would have died suddenly, before this but that he had his uses; for he was a most daring and successful gunrunner among other accomplishments. with all his bounce he was not wanting in pluck, and could hold his own anywhere, and always had held it as some had found to their cost--he would add, darkly boastful. his record was uncertain, but he had an intimate acquaintance with the transkein border and pondoland: and talked the native dialects faultlessly; in short he was just the type that would drift into the position of "chief's white man," with all the advantages of self-enrichment which it affords--and these are not small if the thing is properly worked. the only thing certain about him was that for some time past he dared not show his face upon any square yard of ground under british jurisdiction--on pain of death in mid air, it was not obscurely hinted. in aspect he was heavy and powerful of build. his face, tanned to a red bronze, was half hidden in a thick and flowing beard just turning grey, but the jet black of his shaggy eyebrows had not begun to turn. under them his eyes, black and piercing, glittered like those of a snake. now they began to roll till you could see scarcely anything but the whites. he seemed on the verge of a fit. "don't put yourself in a passion," i said, for i had become cool in proportion to the other's rage. "there's no occasion for it, you know. only i may as well tell you that i don't take any man's bounce, and the idea of you, or any other man coming along here to give me orders strikes me as a joke. see?" "joke does it?" he gasped. "you'll find it a mighty dear joke." then followed more talk which it is impossible to reproduce on paper. "a joke does it? d'you know i've killed men for less than this--yes, killed more men than you've even fought. a joke eh? now--you'll see." he was just turning to the noisy crowd, who however had sunk into silence, and, with eyeballs strained, were watching developments, when falkner, whose restraint had come to an end on seeing a white man, and therefore as he afterwards put it one who could stand up to him, instead of a lot of miserable niggers who couldn't--lounged forward. "here, i say. you'll hurt yourself directly, old man," he drawled--i suspected purposely putting on his most offensive manner. "hurt myself will i--aw haw?" returned the other, imitating falkner's drawl. "hurt myself will i, my blanked popinjay? but first of all i'm going to hurt you--i'm going to hammer you within an inch of your life, and i won't promise to leave you that." he jumped off his horse, and falkner winked at me, for this was just what he wanted. "i say, you know, i can't hit you. you're too old," he said, in a tone calculated to exasperate the other, and it had just that effect, for literally bellowing with rage dolf came straight at him. at first falkner undertook to play with him, but soon found that he had got his hands full, for the other had weight and was enormously strong, and although he was inferior in science his mad rushes were nearly as irresistible as those of a buffalo bull, which was just what he reminded me of, with his eyes swollen and glaring, and his beard red and shaggy with blood. but he was uncommonly quick on his pins, and did not fight blindly by any means--indeed for some time i should have been sorry to have risked a large sum on either of them. it was a battle of giants. i confess to watching the contest with a very keen interest. the zulus standing around, were still as bronze as they craned eagerly forward to watch this, to them, absolutely novel form of battle. my people standing exactly where they had been, were no less interested spectators. at last i thought to detect a sign of weakening on the part of the enemy. youth and science was beginning to tell against sheer strength. norbury must have realised this, for shaking his head like a bull about to charge, he hurled himself forward for a final effort, striking out with terrific force. falkner got it full on the forehead, but managed to keep up. the other staggered back, and then as he was about to make another rush i saw his right hand go behind him. "drop that!" i said sharply bringing round the butt end of my whipstick upon the wrist. with a howl of rage he complied literally, as the sheath knife which he had just drawn leapt from his hand. i put my foot on it just as falkner, rushing in, knocked him fairly and squarely out. "two to one, you blanked cowards," he snarled, in between curses, as he picked himself unsteadily up, half stunned as he was. "that your idea of fair play, is it?" "and this is your idea of fair play?" i said, holding up the knife. it had a good eight-inch blade and was ground like a razor. "why you infernal murderer, did you think i was going to stand by and see you use it?" "you're a liar," he answered. "i never pulled it. you knocked it out of its sheath yourself, just for an excuse to pack on to me two to one." "liar yourself," i said. "you'd pulled it all right. now clear out, and by the lord, if you try any dog tricks on us by way of being even we'll shoot, you understand. this is outside british jurisdiction, you know. so look out." he gave me a look that was positively devilish, and which his battered and blood-smeared countenance did not soften, you may be sure. "look out yourself," he retorted furiously. "what sort of a man are you to come in and try to sneak another man's trade? i was here first, i tell you." "that's all right. but you might as well have made sure i was trying to sneak your trade first. instead of that you come charging up to me at the head of about a hundred armed scoundrels and start a game of bounce. did you think i was going to turn my waggons, and trek back at your bidding, or at any man's bidding, because if so you got hold of the wrong pig by the ear, that's all. i hadn't intended to go near your old soaker's place--but now i shall please myself about it." "will you? all right. you were saying something just now about being outside british jurisdiction. well, remember that. you're not out of this country yet remember, and while you're in it you'd better keep a bright look out. dolf norbury ain't the man to be bested all along the line--and i shouldn't wonder if he didn't begin now. so keep a bright look out, that's my advice." "oh all right. i'm not afraid," i sung out after him, for he had jumped on his horse and was now riding away without another word. "tre-ek!" the whips cracked, and the waggons rolled forward, now without opposition. the turbulent crowd had completely quieted down, and although they still kept pace with us it was with a subdued sort of air. the reason was easy to read. we had come off best in the affair-- wherefore it was obvious to them that we must be greater than dolf norbury. of their first annoyance i took no notice whatever, treating it as a matter of such small account as not even to be worth remembering; and soon they began to drop off by twos and threes, till at last there was only a handful left--to whom i administered a suitable lecture. "think that skunk'll give us any more trouble, eh, glanton?" said falkner, presently. "shouldn't wonder. anyway we'll take his advice and keep a bright look out. he's more than capable of trying a long shot at us from behind, if he sees his chance." "by jove, but that's a tough customer. if he'd only had science i should have been nowhere with him. it's science that does it," he added complacently. "ever learn boxing, glanton?" "no. yet i've held my own in a scrap on an occasion or two." "well learn it. i can tell you it's worth while. you get the science that way. we used to go in strong for it in the regiment, but there's every chance of forgetting it here. these silly niggers can't use their hands at all." "no, but they can use other things, and if you'll take my advice you'll keep yours off them. keep them for fellows of the dolf norbury stamp." it must not be supposed that friend falkner had come off light in the scrimmage; for in truth a goodly share of punishment had fallen his way. both his eyes were badly bunged up, and he had a knob like a walnut over one temple. he further owned to the loosening of a couple of teeth. in short his countenance presented an aspect that would not have endeared him to those of the opposite sex on sight, say his cousins whom he had left behind. but he had held his own like a man, and of his pluck there could be no question at all; and i own that he had gone up very considerably in my estimation since the time of our earlier acquaintance. chapter seventeen. majendwa's kraal. a large, well-built zulu kraal is to my mind a picturesque and symmetrical object with its perfect double circle of ring fences enclosing the yellow domes of the grass huts, and the large open space in the centre, dappled with many coloured cattle, or alive with the dark forms of its inhabitants. such a kraal was that of the chief, majendwa. it lay deep down in a large basin-like hollow; an amphitheatre, as it were, sparsely bushed and surrounded by high, terrace-like cliffs. on one side these rose up to a tall cone of considerable height. the valley bottom and the slopes of the hills were covered with grazing herds, all sleek and round and shining, for the grass was abundant, and rains had been plentiful in these highlands. "that looks promising," i remarked to falkner, as we gazed around upon this land of plenty. "i hope to take back a good few of these with us." "by jove, yes," he said. "i say, i wonder if there's anything to shoot among those cliffs over there." "not very much. an odd reebok or klipspringer is about all you'd get. however, we can try later on. hallo! that looks uncommonly like majendwa himself." two tall zulus were stalking along a path which should converge with ours a little way ahead. we had ridden on, leaving the waggons to follow, and the sound of their creaking and jolting was even now borne to our ears behind, as they wound down the rocky track which led into the hollow from that side, together with an occasional driving shout. "is it?" said falkner, looking up with some curiosity. "by jingo, he's a fine-looking chap for a nigger, anyway." "thought you'd worn through that `nigger' string of yours, falkner," i said. "don't play on it for the benefit of majendwa, that's all." i may have seen as fine, but i never saw a finer specimen of a zulu than majendwa. tall and straight, and for his age marvellously free from that corpulence which seems to come upon nearly all zulus of rank or birth in middle life, every movement of his limbs showing great muscular strength the man's frame was a model. his countenance even from a european standpoint was singularly handsome, the broad, lofty forehead and clear eyes conveying the idea of intellectuality and high breeding, in short he looked what he was, an aristocrat of his race. his greeting was dignified yet cordial. "i see you, iqalaqala," he said, having waited for us to come up--"and am glad. it is long since you brought trade our way." i answered that my wandering days were over for the present, yet i could not altogether sit still, so had come straight up to the abaqulusi to trade with them first. then following their inquiring glance at my companion, i told them he was a neighbour of mine who had been an officer in the english army, causing them to look at him with redoubled interest. "what's it all about, glanton?" struck in falkner who was always impatient when i was talking and bound to cut in at the wrong time. "who's the other chap?" "muntisi, the chief's second son. he's got seven, but this and the eldest are the only two who wear the ring." "well, i like their looks. here, have some 'bacca, old chap," pulling out his pouch. majendwa, who of course didn't understand the familiarity of the address, received the tobacco, in his dignified way, with a slight smile and a glance of furtive curiosity at falkner's parti-coloured countenance, which had by no means shed all traces of his bout of fisticuffs with dolf norbury. then he said: "come within, iqalaqala. i will send men to show your people where to outspan." we walked on with them, leading our horses, for we had dismounted to greet them. as we drew near, the kraal, which had seemed deserted, sprang into life. heads appeared above the thorn fence, watching the approach of the waggons in the distance, and from where the red topknots of women were grouped, a buzz and chatter of expectation went up. "hallo, glanton. you're never going to leave that there?" said falkner, as i deliberately put down my rifle outside the gate before entering. "i'm hanged if i'll leave mine." "but you must. it's etiquette." "oh blazes, but i don't like it," he grumbled, as he complied reluctantly. however majendwa, whose ready tact had seen through his reluctance, told me we need not disarm there, and in fact we had better bring in our weapons, for there was nothing he enjoyed so much as inspecting firearms. as we passed among the huts, i greeted several men whom i knew personally. falkner the while staring curiously about him. "i tell you what, glanton. some of these are devilish fine-looking girls," he remarked. "quite light coloured too, by jove." i rendered this for the benefit of the chief that my companion observed that the women of the abaqulusi were far better looking than any he had ever seen in zululand, which evoked a laugh from those men who heard, and a delighted squeal from those of the sex thus eulogised. then falkner committed his first blunder. we had gained the chief's hut, and stooping down, i had entered the low door first, falkner following. when halfway through he drew back. "dash it all!" he exclaimed, "i've dropped my matchbox." "never mind. come right through," i warned. "don't stop on any account." but it was too late. he had already crawled back, and picked up the lost article. "why what's the row?" he said, startled at my peremptory tone. "only that it's awful bad manners with them to stop halfway through a door and back out again. it's worse, it makes a sort of bad _muti_. it's a pity you did it." "oh blazes, how was i to know? sort of ill luck, eh--evil eye and all that kind of business? well, you can put that right with them." i tried to do this, incidentally explaining that he was a new arrival in the country and could not talk with their tongue yet, and of coarse was not familiar with their ways, that i hoped they would bear this in mind during the time we should spend at the kraal. but although the chief and his son took the incident in good part i could see they would much rather it had not happened. as regarded the offender himself one thing struck me as significant. time was, and not so long ago either, when he would have pooh-poohed it, as a silly nigger superstition. now he showed some little concern, which was a sign of grace. _tywala_, which is beer brewed from _amabele_, or native grown millet, if fresh and cleanly made, is an excellent thirst quencher on a hot day, and you never get it so well and cleanly made as in the hut of a zulu chief. of this a great calabash was brought in, and poured out into black bowls made of soft and porous clay. "by jove, glanton," cut in falkner, during an interval in our talk. "this is something like. why this jolly hut," looking round upon the clean and cool interior with its hard polished floor, and domed thatch rising high overhead--"is as different as possible to the poky smoky affairs our niggers run up. and as for this tipple--oh good lord!" there was a squashing sound and a mighty splash. he had been raising the bowl to his lips, and that by the process of hooking one finger over the rim thereof. the vessel being, as i have said, of soft clay was unable to stand that sort of leverage, and had incontinently split in half, and the contents, liberal in quantity, went souse all over his trousers as he sat there, splashing in milky squirts the legs of majendwa and three or four other men of rank who had come in to join the _indaba_. these moved not a muscle, but i could catch a lurking twinkle in the eyes of the chief's son. "here, i say. tell them i'm devilish sorry," cried falkner shaking off the stuff as best he could. "i'm not accustomed to these things, you know." i put it to them. they looked at falkner, then at the shattered bowl, and as a zulu is nothing if not humorous, one and all went off into a roar of laughter. "hallo! that's better," grinned falkner looking up, as he tried to wipe off the liquid with his handkerchief. "why these are jolly sort of fellows after all. i was afraid they were going to look beastly glum over it. tell them i'll get into their ways soon, glanton. meanwhile here's their jolly good health," taking a big drink out of a fresh bowl that was placed before him, only this time taking care to hold it with both hands. soon the cracking of whips and an increased buzz of voices without announced the arrival of the waggons, and we all went out to the place of outspan. the sun was sinking behind the high ridge which bordered the great basin, and the plain in front of the kraal was dappled with homing herds, and on these i looked with the eye of a connoisseur and especially on the little fat, black zulu oxen, which always fetch a good price for trek purposes. the shrill shout and whistle of the boy herds, blended with the trample and mooing of the cows brought in for the evening milking--but the chief interest on the part of the denizens of the great kraal was centred around the waggons. however it was too late to unload for trade purposes that evening, so beyond getting out a few things for gifts to majendwa and some of the principal men of the place, i left everything undisturbed. "here's our hut, falkner," i said, presently, as we returned within the kraal. "we're going to sleep here." "sleep here?" he echoed. "don't know. i'd much rather sleep at the waggons. how about crawlers," surveying doubtfully the interior, wherein tom was depositing the few things we should require for the night. "oh, that won't trouble us. beyond a few cockroaches of the smaller sort a new hut like this is clean enough. you see majendwa's an old friend of mine, and he wouldn't take it in good part if we didn't sleep in his kraal, at any rate for a night or two. now we're going to dine with him. look they've just killed a young beast in honour of our arrival." and dine with him we did, and falkner himself was fain to own that the great slabs of grilled beef, cut from the choicest part, down the back to wit, which were presently brought in, flanked by roasted mealies, and washed down by unlimited _tywala_ constituted a banquet by no means to be sneezed at. what though a clean grass mat did duty for a plate, and a skewer of wood for a fork, even he admitted that we might have fared much worse. i did not talk much as to the state of the country with our entertainers that night--that i could get at better by degrees, and later. but they chuckled mightily as i described the scrap with dolf norbury. "udolfu!" oh yes, they knew him well, used to trade with him at one time, but they didn't want such whites as him in the zulu country, they said. i could understand this the more readily, for i knew that he had tried on his bounce even to the verge of attempted blows with ngavuma, majendwa's eldest son, who was from home just now, and for his pains had got a broad assegai into his ribs which had kept him quiet on the flat of his back for a matter of three or four months or so. so chatting-- and translating for the benefit of falkner--even he agreed we had got through an uncommonly jolly evening, and that the real zulu was a real brick, by jove! then we turned in. i have a knack of shutting my eyes and going sound off about thirty seconds after my head touches the pillow, or whatever does duty for one, and that night made no exception to my general practice. i heard falkner fumbling about and cussing because he couldn't get his blankets fixed up just as he wanted them, and so on; then i recollect my half-smoked pipe dropping from my mouth just as usual, and then i recollect no more, till-- i woke--not at all as usual when there was nothing to wake me. the moonlight was streaming in through the interstices of the wicker slab that constituted the door, throwing a fine silver network upon the floor of the hut. striking a match i looked at my watch. it was just after one. but as the light flickered and went out i became aware of something else. i was alone in the hut. what the deuce had become of falkner? raising myself on one elbow i called his name. no answer. i waited a little, then got up and crawled through the low doorway. the moon was nearly at full, and i stood looking over the screen of woven grass which was erected in front of the door, leaving just room on each side for a man to pass. the scene was of wonderful beauty. the great circle of domed huts lying between their dark ring fences, the shimmering solitude of the moonlit plain, and beyond, the far amphitheatre of terraced cliffs rising to the twinkling stars. the calm beauty of it all riveted me, accustomed as i was to night in the open-- do we ever get accustomed to such nights as this i wonder?--and i stood thinking, or rather beginning to think--when-- such a clamour broke forth upon the sweet stillness of the night as though all the dogs in the kraal--no, in the world--had suddenly gone stark, staring, raving mad, and then in the light of the broad moon i saw falkner sewin clad in nothing but a short light shirt, sprinting as i feel sure he never sprinted before or since. behind him poured forward a complete mass of curs, gaunt leggy brutes and as savage as they make them, given the conditions of night and a fleeing unwonted object. the ground was open in front of majendwa's huts, so he had some start. "this way!" i yelled, lest he should mistake the hut, then quick as lightning i was inside. so was he, in about a moment, and was on his back with both heels jammed hard against the slammed-to wicker slab that constituted the door, while the whole snarling mouthing pack was hurling itself against the same, snapping and growling, till finding they couldn't get in, the ill-conditioned brutes started to fight with each other. then a man came out of an adjacent hut and shied knobsticks into the lot, dispersing them with many a pained yell. the while i lay there and laughed till i cried. "if you could only have seen yourself, falkner, covering distance in the moonlight and a short shirt," i managed to gasp at length. "man, what the deuce took you wandering about at night? they don't like that here, you know." "oh damn what they like or what they don't like!" he growled pantingly. "i couldn't sleep--some infernal leggy thing or other ran over me--so thought i'd admire the view a little by moonlight. then those loathly brutes came for me all at once. here! give us hold of that fat flask we had the sense to bring along. i want a drink badly." "so do i!" i said starting off to laugh again. "well, you mustn't do any more moonlight patrols. it's _tagati_, as the zulus say." chapter eighteen. a grim find. soon trade became brisk. i had the waggons partly off-loaded, and by dint of stretching a large sail across both of them formed an impromptu store in which the goods were piled. all day long the people crowded up, those who were not dealing enjoying the fun of witnessing the arts and dodges of those who were; just as an outdoor sale on the market square of a town will always attract a number of folks who have nothing else to do, and also, an equal number perhaps of those who have. cattle would be driven up; good ones, for i had given out distinctly that it was waste of trouble to bring anything but good ones,--and then the owners, squatting around, would spend an hour or so haggling, to go away firmly resolved not to deal, but they nearly always came back, and, meanwhile, others would take their places, and go through in all probability exactly the same process; for your zulu at a deal is a born jew, and will spend an astonishing amount of time haggling out of sheer love of haggling. he would go on for ever but for one consideration-- the amount of goods is limited in quantity, and if one neglects to secure his share another does not. so for the first few days i sat tight, making up "lots" with green blankets and cooking pots, butcher knives--always in great request--and brass buttons, beads and salampore cloth, which by the way, is not cloth at all, but a light gauzy fabric of dark blue, greatly in favour with the unmarried girls. all sorts of "notions" were in request, the veriest trifles as to market value, but highly prized up there; and as a thing is worth what it will fetch, why there comes in much of the trader's legitimate profit. i always held that no trade was too small to be refused, and i would accept curios, which were always in demand by down-country dealers in such things. assegais however were extremely difficult to obtain, so much so indeed as to be practically outside articles of barter, and this was significant. another thing not less so was the universal request, open or covert, for firearms and ammunition. it was not much use my explaining to them that they were better off without either, that a man can do much better with a weapon he understands than with one he does not. for some reason or other they were bent on having them. however, in a short while i found myself in possession of quite a nice lot of cattle, the sale of which would leave me a very considerable profit over when expenses were cleared, so i was not dissatisfied. then, all of a sudden, trade fell off, then ceased altogether. there was no apparent reason for it. i stood well with majendwa, indeed i always erred in the right direction with regard to the principal chiefs when on trading ventures in their districts, holding that it is far better policy to be too liberal than too mean. but there was no blinking the fact that for some reason or other further trade was "off." no more were my waggons thronged from morning till night. those from outlying kraals who had been the most eager, stopped away altogether, but now and then someone from close at hand would drop in for something, and even then the deal would be so insignificant as to remind me of my store at isipanga. i put the matter squarely to majendwa, but it didn't seem to help. he admitted that for some reason or other my trade had stopped. what could he do? he could not order his people to deal. i agreed with him there, still i was puzzled. i had calculated to have easily cleared out all i had at his place. yet i had done well enough so far, but when i proposed to move further northward, and get into uhamu's country, majendwa seemed for some reason or other unwilling that i should. "you will do no better there, iqalaqala," he said, "and, for the rest, it is not advisable. see, we are alone, and are talking beneath the bullock's skin. again i say--do not go there. return rather to your own country, even if you have to carry back some of the goods you have brought. or, there may be those on your way who will relieve you of them." i looked at him fixedly and a thought struck me. the phrase he had used might well bear two meanings. had he intended it as a warning? such might well have been the case. falkner the while had been amusing himself as best he could. he soon got tired of watching the barter, though at first it had afforded him some amusement, but i had laid a stern and uncompromising embargo upon any approach even to practical joking. so he would roam off with a rifle or shot gun, and although i was anxious lest he should get into some mischief or other yet he seemed not to. now he welcomed the idea of clearing out, when we talked things over. to my surprise he propounded an idea when i was telling him how our trade had come to a standstill. "what if that sweep whose head i punched should be at the bottom of it?" he said. "dolf norbury, i mean?" i thought there might be something in it. however if it were true, he was bound to have gone to work in some such way that it would be impossible to prove anything, and even if we did, it was hard to see what we could do. "do? why call round and punch his head again, of course," he answered briskly. "that wouldn't help us to recover our trade. besides dolf norbury isn't the sort to let himself be caught that way twice running. this time it would be a case of shooting on sight." "that's a game two can play at," said falkner. "yes," i answered, "but in this case it's a game in which he holds all the hand. it's clear that he has some following, and we have a lot of cattle to drive. well, while we were settling accounts with him his, or rather mawendhlela's, rips would have no trouble in clearing these off to some part of the country where we should never see a hoof of them again." "but would they have the cheek to do that?" "wouldn't they? and this is a time when neither the king nor any of the chiefs would be over-keen to interfere in a quarrel between two white men. let them settle it themselves is what would be said and meanwhile we should have lost all we came up for." "damn!" "i echo that sentiment most fervently, but it can't be helped," i said. "as it is i've a notion we shall have to round up our belongings extra tight till we are clear of the country." "oh well. let's make the best of it and sit tight here a week or so longer, glanton. i'm beginning to enjoy this shooting among rocks. these klip-springers are such cute little devils. it's more fun shooting them than it used to be markhor, and nothing like the fag." falkner was a capital shot with rifle and bird gun alike, and one of his good points was that he was a keen and thorough sportsman. that being the case he had been able to find game up here where one less keen would have given up in disgust, and it was a good thing, if only that it kept him out of mischief. jan boom, the xosa, was the only one who would hint at any reason for the falling off of our trade, but, as it happened, i was rather prejudiced against him by reason of his affectation of a certain air of superiority over those of his own colour, on the strength of his knowledge of english. in fact i rather disliked him, and therefore of course distrusted him. subsequently i had reason to alter my opinion with regard to him: but that will keep. out of mfutela i could get nothing on the subject. either he knew nothing or was too "close" to say: and when a native is "close" why it is rather less difficult to make an oyster open by whispering soft nothings to it than to get him to unfold. one day falkner and i started off to have a hunt among the krantzes beyond those which walled in the hollow. we took jan boom with us, and a couple of young zulus to show us the short cut. it was a grey and lowering day, gloomy in the extreme, and every now and then a spot of rain showed what we were likely to expect, but falkner was keen on sport, and i was getting hipped, besides, in those days i cared little enough for weather. we scrambled about all the morning among the rocks, with absolutely no luck whatever, and then i got sick of it, wherefore after we had lunched upon what we had brought with us i proposed to find my way back to the waggons. falkner of course wanted to keep on, but i pointed out that my defection need cause no drawback to him, for i would leave him the boys and make my way back alone. so we separated and before we had long done so a distant report, some way above, showed that at any rate he was beginning to find sport. i struck downward, rapidly making use of half obliterated cattle tracks, for the abaqulusi were largely a mountain tribe, and there were outlying kraals among the heights as well as in the hollows. following one of these paths i came suddenly upon a steep gorge, falling abruptly to the next slope some distance below. this gully was in places almost chasm-like in its formation, and was indescribably wild and gloomy in the utter solitude of the grey afternoon. i had just crossed it where the path dipped, when, looking up, there stood a klipspringer gazing at me. he was an easy hundred yard shot. slipping from the saddle on the further side from him, i thought to myself that falkner would not altogether have the crow over me when we got back. but--when i looked again, expecting to take a quick aim, by jingo! the little beast had disappeared. this was annoying, for now a disinclination to return empty handed had seized me. quickly and noiselessly i made my way up to where he had been. it was as i had thought. he had been standing on a sort of pinnacle; and now, as i peered cautiously over, there stood the little buck, less than the first distance below. he was outlined against the black and shadowed bottom of the gorge, and was gazing away from me. now i would have him, i decided. in a second my sights were on him full--i didn't take long over aiming in those days--when i lowered the rifle with some precipitation. right bang in a line with where the klipspringer had been standing--had been, observe, for the slight additional movement on my part had caused him to disappear again--was the form of a man. it gave me a turn, for with lightning rapidity it flashed through my mind that nothing could have saved him. then consternation gave way to curiosity. the form though that of a man was not that of a living one. down in the shadow of a dark hole, overhung by gloomy rocks, it sprawled in a constrained half upright posture against one of these. it was too far off and the light not good enough to be able to distinguish how it was secured in this position, but it seemed to be facing upward in a dreadful attitude of scared supplication. i would go down and investigate. but before i had taken many steps in pursuance of this resolve i stopped short. for an idea had occurred to me. the body was that of a native, and it was obvious that life had been extinct for some time. what good purpose could i serve by investigating it further? i was in a savage country in which life was held cheap. the man whoever he might be, had quite likely been executed for some offence; the method of his death being in all probability designed to fit the offence. clearly therefore it was no concern of mine, and accordingly i decided to forego further investigation. and then, as though to confirm me in the good policy of such decision something happened--something that was sufficiently startling. a bullet pinged against a stone beside me, sending up a hard splash of splinters and dust, and, confound it, the thing had hit barely a yard from where i was standing. "hallo, falkner!" i hailed, deeming the puff of smoke from among the rocks above and opposite must be his work. "look out i'm here. d'you hear, man?" but no answer came, not immediately that is. in a minute however, one did come, and that in the shape of another bullet, which banged up the dust just about the same distance on the other side of me. my first impulse was that falkner was playing one of his idiotic practical jokes at my expense, but with the idea i seemed to feel sure that it was not falkner--and that, in short, i had better withdraw from this very uncanny spot. as i hastened to carry this judicious resolve into practical effect i won't pretend that i felt otherwise than uncomfortable and very much so. whoever it was up there could shoot--confound him! an accomplishment rare indeed among the natives of zululand in those days. clearly too the exact nicety with which both distances had been judged seemed to point to the fact that both shots had been fired by way of warning. that i had at any rate accepted such i trusted i had made clear to the giver of it, as i walked--i hoped without undue haste but rapidly--to where i had left my horse. nothing further occurred, although until clear of the heights i kept an uncommonly sharp look out. once clear of them however, the incident left no great impression on my mind. i had unwittingly stumbled across something unusual and had been about to pry into what didn't concern me, and it had been resented. the abaqulusi were an independent and warlike clan who would be sure to resent such. i had received a hint, and a pretty forcible one, to mind my own business, and i concluded that in future i would mind it, at any rate while in these parts. that was all. chapter nineteen. concerning a letter. evening was closing in wet and gloomy. the lowering clouds swept along the high ground which shot in the great hollow, causing the cliffs to seem three times their real height in the ghostly murk. added to this it was raw and cold, which had the effect of causing the inhabitants of the big kraal to hug their firesides. here and there a form swathed in an ample green blanket might be seen moving from one hut to another, quickly to dive within the same, for your savage is a practical animal, and sees no fun in foregoing any of his comforts when no necessity exists for doing so--and the interior of the huts was warm and dry, and, without, it was neither. i was alone at the waggons, falkner not having yet returned. for this i was not sorry, for although falkner and i had grown accustomed to each other, yet there were times when i could cheerfully accept a holiday from his presence. darker and darker it grew. the oxen were driven in and fastened to the trek chain for the night, and the boys, lying snug under the shelter they had rigged up by means of a large sail thrown over the buck waggon, leaving one side between the wheels open, were chatting in their rhythmical deep-voiced hum, and the fire they had built not far from the opening glowing more and more redly as the gloom deepened. then their talk suddenly ceased, as out of the darkness appeared a tall figure, saluting. "what have you there?" i said, as the new arrival began fumbling for something in his skin pouch. "_incwadi 'nkose_," he answered. i own to a thrill of excited expectation very foreign to my normally placid way of taking things, for _incwadi_ is the word for a letter or a token of any kind. i could hardly restrain my eagerness to open the packet carefully sewn up in oilskin, which the man now handed me. aida sewin, then, had availed herself of the means of correspondence which i had arranged, but--what if this were not addressed to me after all, but only to falkner? and at the thought my anticipations fell. still it would be good to hear, anyhow. the rather startling incident of a few hours ago was driven clean from my mind now. i climbed into the tent waggon and lighted the lantern which hung from the tent, and you may be sure it didn't take me long to unroll the oilskin wrapping. two letters it contained--one for falkner and one for myself--the latter in the handwriting i knew, and one that a reader of character from handwriting would assuredly not have reported upon unfavourably. having once satisfied myself on the point, i believe i was in no hurry to open it. the pleasures of anticipation, you see, counted for something with me still. then came another phase in the above. i drew from the envelope several sheets rather closely written. why, this was too much luck. i glanced quickly through them to ascertain that the whole of it was for me, but resolved not to anticipate the contents in any way. more than ever was i glad now that falkner had not returned. i could well do without his somewhat boisterous company for the next half-hour, or even longer. then i spread open the sheets before me, and by the somewhat dim light of the waggon lantern began to read. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "dear mr glanton,--i am taking advantage of the arrangement you so thoughtfully made, and only trust this will not miss you during your wanderings. mother is writing to falkner at the same time. i hope you have been able to make him useful, and that he has behaved himself generally well. he is a good sort of boy at bottom, but gets far too much spoilt among us all, as you must have observed, though i believe i am the one who spoils him least. at any rate a little roughing it will do him no harm. "things are very much as usual. we see a good deal of mr kendrew, who comes over when he can and is a great help."--"oh, the devil he is!" said i to myself at this point. "just what i foresaw, confound it!"--"but we miss you very much, and are hoping soon to welcome you back after a thoroughly successful expedition." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ this was more comforting, i thought to myself, laying down the letter and conjuring up a recollection of the writer's words, that last evening. she would look forward to my return, she had declared--would be disappointed if i did not go to see them immediately. confound it, what was the matter with me, that i sat dreaming and building castles in the air? the rain fell upon the canvas of the waggon tent with monotonous drip, and a puff of raw air through the flap of the tied-down sail caused the light of the hanging lantern to flicker--but i was no longer in the gloomy wilds of northern zululand, on a rainy, chilly, and altogether abominable evening. i was again in the starlight glow as on that evening, listening to the sweet tones of the writer's voice, and gazing at the beautiful, highbred face. the letter went on, dealing now with everyday matter, in a bright, natural, chatty style. the major was in great form and delighted with his garden and its development, thanks to some fine rains. the scotts had been over to see them a couple of times--and here followed some banter at the expense of that worthy and neighbouring family, the head of which--originally a waggon-maker's journeyman--was, incidentally, addicted to too much grog, when he could get it--which wasn't often. at major sewin's he could get it, and became comical, but always harmlessly so. things on the farm were going well, thanks to ivondwe, who was worth his weight in gold, and--i could read between the lines--was practically running the place himself. tyingoza had been over to see them too, and seemed completely to have forgotten falkner's liberty with regard to his head-ring, for he had been exceedingly pleasant, and, through ivondwe, had said a great many nice things about me--reading which i felt more than brotherly towards tyingoza, and made up my mind then and there to present him with something of large and practical value when i should get up my next consignment of trade goods. this had covered some three sheets, closely written, and there were still quite as many more. decidedly miss sewin was a good correspondent. i had been going through her letter grudgingly, as if the turning of every leaf should bring the end near. the sail was lifted, and tom's honest black face appeared, to ask some question. i curtly told him to go to the devil, and resumed my reading. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "and now," went on the letter, "i am coming to something that i feel i must tell you, and yet i hardly like to. it seems so ridiculous somehow when one comes to put it down on paper, though if you were here, and we could talk it over, well--it might not. you remember that last evening, and what we were talking about when i asked you if some plan could not be arranged under which i could write to you if i felt that we were in need of your aid or advice? the idea rather originated with yourself if you remember, in your usual kindness and forethought, so that consideration alone emboldens me to write what might otherwise seem to you only fanciful and foolish. you know, too, i am not inclined to indulge in that sort of thing, so you will, i am sure, bear with me. but i must begin. "you remember that witch doctor, ukozi, who came upon us suddenly at the waterhole that same last evening, when my coin was lost? well, he has taken to coming here a great deal. at first my father used to get angry with him and want to drive him away; you know, quite in the old style, before you taught him--or tried to teach him--that the natives here were not to be driven like our people in india used to be. but ukozi didn't seem to mind. he would go away chuckling, but the next day sure enough, there he was again. then father suddenly swung round and seemed to take a fancy to him. he would talk to him by the hour--through ivondwe interpreting--and when we wondered, would tell us that he was getting ulcozi to teach him some of the native magic. of course it seemed to us absurd, but if we said anything of the sort father would get angry, so the only thing was to let him go his own way. but when it came to his going out at night with the witch doctor and coming back at all hours thoroughly done up, why it seemed that the thing was going too far. he has become very mysterious too. once he let drop that ukozi was going to tell him all about the waterhole, and the strange thing that we saw there, and then he became more angry still and vowed that he wouldn't be interfered with--that here was a chance of learning something quite out of the common, and he was going to take it whatever happened. nothing we can say or do seems to weigh with him in the least, and really, if it didn't sound too absurd, i should say that this witch doctor had got him right under his thumb. i asked ivondwe about it quietly, but he was very nice, and said that the old _nkose_ was a wise man, yet there were things that his wisdom had not yet reached, and now he would like to learn them--that was all. there was nothing to trouble about. when he had learnt what ukozi could--or would--teach him--and that was not much--then he would be the same as before. now, mr glanton, you know these people, and i ask you what does it all mean? my father is altogether a changed man--how changed you would be the first to recognise if you could see him. what, too, is the object; for ukozi, beyond getting something to eat, and tobacco now and then, does not seem to ask for anything by way of payment, and i always thought the native _isanusi_ was nothing if not acquisitive? but he is always here. for want of a better expression he is getting upon my nerves, and not only upon mine. it seems as if we were somehow being drawn within an influence, and an influence the more weird and inexplicable that it is through an agency that we should traditionally hold as something inferior, and therefore quite absurd to take seriously. i mean a native influence. "shall i risk disgracing myself for ever in your eyes by owning that i am getting just a little bit frightened? yes, frightened--i'm afraid there's no other word for it--and the worst of it is i don't in the least know what i am frightened of. it seems as if a something was hanging over us--a something awful, and from which there is no escape. you remember it was such a presentiment that made me say what i did the last time you were here, and you reassured me on the subject of the witch doctor at any rate. as to him, there is another strange circumstance. arlo, too, seems to have come under his influence. arlo who never could be got to take to any native, and now he is more obedient to this ukozi than to any of us; yet it is the obedience of fear, for he whines and crouches when the witch doctor speaks to him. here, you will allow, is a real mystery. "there are other things i might say, but i think i have said enough. again i hope you won't put me down as a weak-minded idiot frightened at her own shadow. this country, you see, is so new and strange to us, and our position is rather lonely; father, too, is ageing a good deal, so there is some excuse if we feel a little--well, nervous, at times. as it is i have put off writing to you until, as i reckon from what you said, your time in zululand must be nearly up, and then only that you may not delay to come and see us immediately on your return. "all send kind regards and are looking forward to welcoming you back, but none more so than-- "yours very sincerely, "aida sewin. "p.s.--i would rather you didn't mention anything of this to falkner." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ this letter was, to say the least of it, puzzling. carefully i read it through again, and then it became obvious that the main drift of it was, if not exactly an after-thought, at any rate not in the writer's mind to communicate when she first began. her contradictory accounts of her father pointed to this. i made an effort to put behind me for the present the feeling of exultation that i should be the one appealed to-- the rock of refuge, so to say--for i wanted to think out the drift of the whole thing; and all my experience has gone to teach me that you can't think, of two things at once without only half thinking of both of them. the witch doctor's conduct was inexplicable viewed by the ordinary light of common-sense motive. but i had lived long enough among natives to know that i didn't really know them, which is paradoxical yet true. i knew this much, that underlying their ordinary and known customs there are others, to which no white man ever gains access except by the purest accident--customs, it may be, to all appearances utterly inconsequent or even ridiculous, but others again of darker and more sinister import. such are denied by them with laughter, as too utterly absurd for existence, but they do exist for all that, and the confiding european is lulled completely, thrown off the scent. and now, putting four and four together, i wondered whether it was not somewhere in this direction that i must search for ukozi's motive. as for the major's craze, that didn't trouble me overmuch, if only that i remembered that old gentlemen of the retired anglo-indian persuasion were prone to take up fads, from the lost ten tribes craze to plymouth brethrenism. he had been struck by ukozi's profession of occultism, and probably hipped by the isolation of his own surroundings, had thrown himself into it. i--and falkner--would soon put that right, on our return. and yet, and yet--as i again took up aida sewin's letter in search it might be of a further sidelight, the very real note of concern, not to say alarm, which i read into it impressed me. it was as though i heard a cry from her to hasten to her assistance. well, i would do so. as i have said, my trade with majendwa's people had suddenly and unaccountably broken down, but i had acquired quite a respectable lot of cattle, all in excellent condition. i would have them all brought in on the morrow and trek the next day for home. and having come to this conclusion i heard the tramp of a horse outside, and falkner's voice lifted up in a resounding hail, which had the effect of setting all the curs in the big kraal adjoining, on the stampede in such a fashion as to remind me of falkner's sprinting match on the first night of our arrival. chapter twenty. falkner shows his hand--and his teeth. i put the letter into my pocket, flung on a mackintosh and dived outside again. the rain was still coming down in a steady pour, and the cloud of vapour rising from the horse's heaving flanks steamed up redly against the firelight. falkner was in high spirits. a reebok was tied behind his saddle and jan boom was carrying the carcase of a klipspringer, and a few unconsidered trifles in the way of partridges. "you haven't been out for nothing?" i said, glancing at the spoil. "rather not. i've had a ripping day of it, but--trot out the grog, old man. phew! it's cold. for the last hour i've hardly been able to feel my feet in the stirrups." "likely. here, you'd better tumble into the waggon and get into dry togs. then we'll have scoff. by the way, the post has come." "post? see here. who are you getting at, glanton? post!" "not at anybody. here's a letter, from your aunt i believe." "by jove! i thought you were humbugging. oh well, that'll keep--till after scoff at any rate, and i'm starving." i had made up my mind to say nothing to him of aida sewin's letter unless his own communication should contain some reference to it. soon he was in dry clothes, and the klipspringer was sizzling on the fire, which the boys had managed to shelter ingeniously with the aid of some stones and a bit of old sail. then, in a trice, the grill being ready, we fell to with a will, seated on the edge of the _kartel_, our metal plates in our laps, and the rain splashing down upon the waggon tent, while we were warm and dry, if somewhat cramped, within. "this is jolly and snug, and no mistake," pronounced falkner, "and grilled klipspringer makes right radiant scoff. here, put the bottle across--it's on your side. and i say, glanton, i came across a devilish rum thing to-day--a devilish nasty thing. it turned me quite sick, 'pon my word it did. by the way, what were you blazing at soon after we parted? i heard a couple of shots." "oh, it was another klipspringer. but a mere snap, not a fair chance," i answered, not intending to let him into my secret experience. "what was it you came across?" i went on, feeling rather curious, for he had turned quite serious, as though impressed by some very unpleasant recollection. "why! it was about two hours away from here, or might have been rather more--this afternoon just after i'd boned that reebok--a nice clear shot he gave me--a longish one too. well, away beyond the second line of krantzes over that side, we stumbled suddenly upon a small kraal, where they were none too civil--didn't seem the least glad to see us, to put it mildly. well, we didn't stop, but as we moved on they objected to us going the way we wanted, and in fact the way we eventually came. i rather lost my temper, for they became beastly bumptious, you know, and at one time made as if they'd try to prevent us." "you didn't get punching any of their heads, i hope," i interrupted, rather sharply. "no, no. but upon my soul i felt inclined to. first of all they began lying about there being no road there, and so forth, but i knew they were lying, so made up my mind to go that way. jan boom didn't want to either--and those two boys who started with us wouldn't go any further, said we shouldn't want them any more, and that we could find our own way back now. well, i was of the same opinion, so on we came. but at one time i began to think they had been right. it was awful the scramble we had over the rocks and boulders. jan boom had turned beastly sulky too, and kept wanting to go back himself, but i'm an obstinate beggar, you know, glanton, and when once i've made up my mind to do a thing i'll do it--what are you grinning at?" "only, if you don't mind me saying so, you ought to have remained in the service of your country. you'd have made a model leader of a forlorn hope, and, in the fulness of time, a model general." "here, hang your chaff," he growled, not knowing whether to be pleased or not. "i never quite know whether you mean what you say or are only pulling a fellow's leg." "well, go on." "jan boom, i was saying, had got so sulky that i more than threw out a hint i was likely to hammer him if he didn't think better of it. we at last struck a gully which was rather an improvement on our way so far, but even it was beastly bad. it was a sort of dry watercourse, although if the rain kept on at this rate it would soon be a devilish wet one. well, there was a path of sorts, though not easy to distinguish; now over the rocks now between them, a gloomy hole, i tell you, and most infernally depressing." "how depressing?" i interrupted, for i had never given falkner sewin credit for sufficient imagination to feel depressed by such a mere accident as surroundings. "well, it was. the cliffs seemed to meet overhead as if they were going to topple down on you, don't you know, and there wasn't a sound, except the wind howling round the rocks every now and then like a jolly spook. then, all of a sudden my horse rucked back at his bridle--we were leading the horses, you know--so suddenly as nearly to pull me on my back--as it was i dropped my pipe on the stones and broke it--and before i had time even to cuss, by george, i saw a sight. "we had got into a sort of caldron-shaped hollow, something like our waterhole at home would look like, if it was empty, and--by the lord, glanton, there, against the rock where the water should have fallen over if there had been any to fall, was the body of a wretched devil of a nigger--spread-eagled upright, and staring at us; in fact literally crucified--for we found that the poor beast was triced up to pegs driven firmly into cracks in the rock. good lord! it gave me a turn. in some places the flesh had all fallen away, showing the bones, and what remained was bleached almost white. here, send the bottle along again. the very recollection turns me sick." "how long did he seem to have been there?" i said. "could you form any idea?" "not well. besides i was in too great a hurry to get away, and so was jan boom, i can tell you. what d'you think it meant, glanton? mind you, those devils up in the kraal must have known of it, because it occurred to me afterwards that that was their reason for not wanting us to go that way." "very likely. the chap may have been planted there after he was dead, you know," i answered--not in the least thinking so. "some peculiar and local form of sepulture." "i don't believe it," rejoined falkner quickly. "the expression of the face was that of some poor devil who had come to a most beastly end and knew it--and it haunts me." "well, why didn't you investigate further, while you were at it?" "didn't feel inclined. but--i'll tell you what, glanton, we might go back there to-morrow. i'm sure i could find the way, and at any rate jan boom could. then such an experienced beggar as you could see to the bottom of it perhaps. eh?" "i've no wish to do anything of the sort, in fact it would have been just as well if you had missed that little find to-day altogether. and i should recommend you to keep your mouth shut about it--to tom for instance. you may rely upon it jan boom will. they have curious customs in these parts, and some of them they don't in the least like nosed into and talked over. by the way, here's mrs sewin's letter i was telling you about." "by jove, yes--i forgot. well, i'll like to hear something of them at home, if only to help me to forget that beastly thing. let's see what the old lady says." he read me out bits of the letter as he went on--just ordinary bits of home talk, but there was no word bearing upon the mystery set forth in his cousin's letter. suddenly he looked up. "hallo glanton! so aida has been favouring you, i find." "yes. a letter from your cousin came at the same time as this." "i say though, but you kept it devilish dark," he said, nastily. in fact, his tone reminded me of the earlier days of our acquaintance. "i don't know what you mean by `devilish dark,' sewin, but i'm quite sure i don't like the expression," i answered shortly. "let me remind you however that you've `had the floor' ever since you came back, with that yarn of yours. could i have got in a word edgeways?" "well, what news does she give you?" he jerked out, after an interval of silence, during which he had been viciously rapping his pipe against the heel of his boot as he sat. "just about the same as what you've been reading out to me." "that all?" it was as much as i could do to keep my temper. falkner's tone had become about as offensive as he knew how to make it, and that is saying a great deal--this too, apart from the fact that i resented being catechised at all. but i remembered my promise to his cousin not to quarrel with him, and just managed to keep it; only then by making no reply. there was silence again. by way of relieving it i sung out to tom to come and take away our plates, and the relics of our meal. falkner the while was emitting staccato puffs from his newly lighted pipe, and as i settled down to fill mine he suddenly broke forth: "look here, glanton, i'm a plain-speaking sort of chap and accustomed to say what i mean. so we'd better have it out now, once and for all." i didn't affect ignorance of his drift. i merely nodded, and he went on. "well then, i've noticed that you and ai--my cousin--have been getting uncommon thick of late. i didn't think much of it, but now, when it comes to her writing to you on the quiet, why i think it's time to have some say in the matter." "in the first place the only persons entitled to have any `say in the matter' as you put it are major and mrs sewin," i said. "in the next, you should withdraw that expression `on the quiet.' it's an insult--to your cousin." "oh well, since you put it like that, i withdraw it," he growled. "but as for--er--the matter in hand, well, i warn you you are poaching on someone else's preserves." "might i, as a matter of curiosity, ask who the `someone else' may be?" i said, conscious at the same time of a wholly unaccustomed sinking of the heart. "certainly, and i'll tell you. it's myself." "that's straight anyway," i rejoined, feeling relieved. "then i am to understand i must congratulate you--both--on an engagement?" he started at the word "both." "er--no. not exactly that. hang it, glanton, don't i put things plain enough? i mean i was first in the field, and it isn't fair--in fact i consider it beastly dishonourable for you, or any other fellow, to come trying to upset my coach. now--do you see?" "i think i understand," i said, feeling softened towards him. "but as regards myself, first of all you had better be sure you are not assuming too much, in the next place, you are just in the position of anybody else, and can't set up any such plea as prior rights. see?" "no, i'll be hanged if i do," he snarled. "i've told you how things stand, so now you're warned." "i'm not going to quarrel with you," i answered. "we are all alone here, with no chance of anybody overhearing us or at any rate understanding us if they did. yet i prefer talking `dark' as the zulus say. let's start fair, d'you hear? let's start fair--and--now you're warned." he scowled and made no answer. in fact, he sulked for the rest of the evening--and, to anticipate--long after that. i went outside before turning in, leaving falkner in the sulks. the rain had ceased, and bright patches of stars were shining between the parting clouds. the fire had died low, and the conversation of the boys had dropped too. i can always think best out in the open, and now i set myself hard to think over these last developments. by its date the letter must have been nearly a week on the road. well, there was not time for much to have happened in between. then what falkner had just revealed had come to me as something of an eye-opener. i had at first rather suspected him of resenting me as an interloper, but subsequently as i noted the free and easy terms on which he stood with both his cousins--the one equally with the other--the last thing to enter my mind was that he should think seriously of either of them, and that one aida. why, she used to keep him in order and treat him very much as a boy-- indeed all her references to him when discussing him with me, even as lately as in the letter i had just received, bore the same elder sisterly tone, and i felt sure that while this held good, falkner, in entertaining the hopes he had revealed to me, was simply twisting for himself a rope of sand. at the same time i felt sorry for him, and my not unnatural resentment of the very dictatorial tone which he had chosen to adopt towards myself cooled entirely. he was young and so boyish that every allowance must be made. at the same time i envied him his youth. as for me, well i hardly knew, but as my meditations ran on in the stillness and silence of the starlit night, clustering ever around one recollection, well i realised, and not for the first time, that life seemed very much to have been wasted in my case. the one talent man in the parable recurred to my mind, and i will even own, i hope not irreverently, to a sneaking sympathy for that same poor devil. he might have lost his one talent, or fooled it away, instead of which, he at any rate kept it--and, after all there is a saying that it is more difficult to keep money than to make it. now it seemed to me that i was very much in the same boat with him. i had kept my talent-- so far--and was it even now too late to add to it, but--what the deuce had this got to do with aida sewin, who formed the undercurrent of all the riotous meditations in which i was indulging? well perhaps it had something. chapter twenty one. dolf norbury again. when two people, trekking together beyond the confines of civilisation fall out, the situation becomes unpleasant. if each has his own waggon, well and good, they can part company, but if not, and both are bound to stick together it spells friction. for this reason i have always preferred trekking alone. even my worst enemy could hardly accuse me of being a bad-tempered man, let alone a quarrelsome one. on the other hand i have never laid claim to an angelic disposition, and if i had the demeanour of my present companion would have taxed it to the uttermost, since we had each been betrayed into showing the other our hand. for my part i can honestly say the fact would have made no difference whatever in our mutual relations, but falkner sewin was differently hung. first of all he sulked heavily, but finding that this did not answer and that i was entirely independent of him for companionship, for i would talk to the zulus by the hour--he threw that off and grew offensive--so much so that i felt certain he was trying to pick a quarrel with me. had it been any other man in the world this would have concerned me not one atom, indeed he needn't have tried overmuch. but here it was different. there was my promise to his cousin, and further, the consideration that aida sewin was his cousin and thus very nearly related indeed. no, on no account must we come to blows, and yet the strain upon my temper became hourly more great. i had not been able to trek when i had intended, by reason of something beyond the ordinary native delay in bringing in my cattle; in fact in one particular quarter i had some difficulty in getting them brought in at all. in view of the troubled state of the border this looked ominous. in ordinary times majendwa's people like other zulus, though hard men of business at a deal, were reliability itself once that deal was concluded. now they were inclined to be shifty and evasive and not always over civil; and all this had come about suddenly. could it mean that war had actually broken out? it might have for all we knew, dependent as we were upon those among whom we dwelt for every scrap of information that might reach us from outside. otherwise their behaviour was unaccountable. but if it had, why then we should be lucky to get out of the country with unperforated skins, let alone with a wheel or a hoof to our names. even majendwa's demeanour towards me had undergone a change, and that was the worst sign of all; for we had always been good friends. all his wonted geniality had vanished and he had become curt and morose of manner. i resolved now to take the bull by the horns, and put the question to majendwa point-blank. accordingly i betook myself to his hut, with that object. but the answer to my inquiries for him was prompt. the chief was in his _isigodhlo_, and could not be disturbed. this sort of "not at home" was unmistakable. i returned to the waggons. now an idea struck me. was there more in that gruesome discovery of mine--and falkner's--than met the eye? was the fact that we had made it, first one of us and then the other, at the bottom of the chief's displeasure? it might have been so. at any rate the sooner we took the road again the better, and so i announced to falkner that we would inspan at sunrise. his reply was, in his then mood, characteristic. "but we haven't traded off the stuff yet," he objected. "i say. you're not in a funk of anything, are you, glanton? i ask because i rather wanted to stay on here a little longer." i turned away. his tone was abominably provoking, moreover i knew that he would be glad enough to return, and had only said the foregoing out of sheer cussedness. "you have your horse," i said. "if you like to remain i'll leave jan boom with you, and you can easily find your way back." "want to get rid of me, do you?" he rapped out. "well you won't. not so easily as that. no--you won't." to this i made no answer. at sunrise the waggons were inspanned. then another difficulty cropped up. the boys who were to have driven the herd of trade cattle, at any rate as far as the border, did not turn up. in disgust i was prepared to take them on myself with the help of mfutela. falkner had learnt to drive a waggon by this time and now he must do it. his reply however when i propounded this to him was again characteristic. he was damned if he would. the knot of the difficulty was cut and that unexpectedly, by the appearance of the chief's son, and with him some boys. "these will drive your cattle, iqalaqala," he said. "that is well, muntisi," i answered. "and now son of majendwa, what has come between me and the chief that he holds my hand no more? is there now war?" we were a little apart from the others, and talk in a low slurred tone that natives use when they don't want to be understood. "not war," he answered; "at any rate not yet. but, iqalaqala, those who come into a chief's country should not come into it with too many eyes." "ha!" i said, taking in the quick glance which he shot in falkner's direction, and with it the situation. "too many eyes there may be, but a shut mouth more than makes up for that. a shut mouth, _impela_!" "a shut mouth? _au_! is the mouth of umsindo ever shut?" this, it will be remembered, was falkner's native name, meaning noise, or bounce, and the chief's son was perpetrating a sort of pun in the vernacular. "but it will be this time, never fear," i answered. "farewell now, son of majendwa. i, who have seen more than men think, know how not to talk." i felt really grateful to muntisi, and made him a final present which he appreciated. "you need not mistrust those i have brought you," he said. "only for others you cannot have too many eyes now until you reach inncome," he added meaningly. nothing of note happened and we trekked on unmolested in any way, travelling slow, for the trade cattle were fat and in excellent condition, which of course i didn't want to spoil. then befel an incident which was destined to give us trouble with a vengeance. we had got into sparsely inhabited country now, and were nearing the border. one afternoon falkner and i had struck off from the track a little to shoot a few birds for the pot--by the way falkner had in some degree condescended to relax his sulks, being presumably tired of his own company. we had rejoined the track and had just put our horses into a canter to overtake the waggons when falkner threw a glance over his shoulder and said: "what sort of beast is that?" i turned and looked back. it was a dark afternoon and inclining moreover to dusk, but i could make out something white glinting through the bush, rather behind us, but as if running parallel to our way. the bush grew in patches, and the thing would be alternately hidden or in the open again. "here goes for a shot, anyway," said falkner, slipping from his horse. he carried a rifle and smooth-bore combination gun, and before i could prevent him or perhaps because i tried to, he had loosed off a bullet at the strange beast. a splash of dust, a good deal short of the mark, leaped up where it struck. "the line was good but not the distance," he grumbled. "i'll get him this time," slipping in a fresh cartridge. "much better not," i urged. "we don't want to get into any more bother with the people by shooting their dogs." he made no answer, and i was glad that the bush thickened where the animal had now disappeared. "let's get on," i said. "it's nearly dark." he mounted and we had just resumed our way, when not twenty yards distant, the creature came bounding forth, frightening our horses by the suddenness of his appearance. there was nothing hostile, however, in his attitude. he was wagging his tail, and squirming and whimpering in delight, as a dog will do when he has found a long-lost master, or at best a well-known friend. i stared, hardly able to believe my own eyesight. the large, wolf-like form, the bushy tail--why there could be no duplicate of this ever whelped at a zulu kraal, that was certain. "arlo," i cried. "arlo, old chap. what are you doing in these parts, eh?" the dog whined with delight, squirming up to us, his brush going like a flail. in a moment we were both off our horses. "it's arlo right enough," said falkner, patting the dog, who never ceased whimpering and licking his hands. "the question is how did he get here? eh?" "stolen most likely, but it couldn't have been long ago, for miss sewin made no mention of his loss in her letter to me--and it's hardly likely she'd have forgotten to mention such an important event if it had happened then." somehow i could not help connecting ukozi with this, and felt vaguely uneasy. what had been happening of late? had the dog been stolen with any deeper motive than his own intrinsic value--to get him out of the way for instance and clear the road for the carrying out of some sinister and mysterious scheme on the part of the witch doctor? "of course," assented falkner, "we'll take him home with us now, at all events. what a devilish lucky thing i happened to look back and see him." "yes, and what a devilish lucky thing you happened to look wrong and miss him," i answered, for i own to a feeling of petty jealousy that he should be in a position to claim the credit of having found the dog. "oh-ah! but a miss is as good as a mile," he said, with a hoarse laugh. "by jove, but won't aida be glad when i bring him back to her. won't she just?" "i should think so. well we'll have to keep a bright look-out on him till we get home." "how the deuce they managed to steal him beats me, i own," went on falkner. "arlo was the very devil where niggers are concerned. won't let one of 'em come within fifty yards of him." this would have puzzled me too, but for what aida's letter had told me-- as well as for what i had witnessed myself up at the waterhole. there was at any rate one "nigger" of which the above held not good. more than ever did i connect ukozi with the matter. "well, we've got him back," i said, "and it'll be our own fault if we don't keep him." the dog trotted along contentedly behind our horses, wagging his tail in recognition if we spoke a word or two to him. the waggons were outspanning for the night when we reached them--according to instructions, but arlo went straight up to tom, whom of course he knew fairly well, wagging his tail, in a sort of "how-d'you-do" manner. he condescended likewise to approve of jan boom, who being a xosa was, of course, a sworn dog fancier, but the others he just tolerated. we inspanned before daylight, intending to make a long trek, and that evening to cross the blood river and outspan for the night on the other side. in the then state of the border i should not be sorry to be out of the zulu country. the trip had not been a signal success, and i began to think of it as possibly the last i should make. i thought too, of other possibilities, even as i had thought when taking my midnight up and down walk beneath the stars--a custom i had before turning in, when the weather permitted, as it generally did. the country was sparsely inhabited, as i have said, and beyond passing three or four small kraals we saw nobody. we had started upon our afternoon trek. in another hour we should strike the drift and have crossed the border. then one of the boys muntisi had given me to drive the cattle came up with the pleasant news that a large body of men, armed too, was coming rapidly on behind, on our track. i don't know why this should have caused me uneasiness yet it did. no war had broken out as yet--this i had ascertained from such zulus as we had fallen in with on the way. i gave orders to push on the waggons, and the cattle. then getting out a powerful binocular i rode up to a point whence i knew i could command a considerable sweep. the ground was open on all sides, a thin thread of mimosa along some slight depression being the only sort of cover it afforded. cresting a rise about three miles distant i made out a dark mass moving forward along our track, and that at a rapid rate. at any other time this would have caused me little if any anxiety, but now we had had bother enough in all conscience. i didn't want any more of it, but that the crowd behind was in pursuit of us there was no room for doubt. it was an armed band, for by the aid of the glasses i could make out the glint of assegais and the war shields that were carried. i returned to the waggons but saw that the pace was as good as the oxen could be put to. the cattle were ahead, going well, but the drift was a good deal further on than i should have wished it to be. of course there was no physically defensive advantage on the other side over this one, still a boundary is a great moral force; certainly was then while the boundary dispute was awaiting the award of the commission. "we'll get out the rifles and cartridges, sewin," i said--"and have them handy, but we won't show them. also sling on your revolver, on the same terms. there's a crowd coming on fast on our track--what the deuce for i can't make out. still it's as well to be prepared for emergencies." "oh rather," he assented, brisking up at the prospect of a row. "i think it's about time we read mr zulu a lesson." chapter twenty two. a solomon--in the zulu. suddenly arlo, who had been trotting along placidly beside the waggons stopped short, looking backward, and emitting low growls, which soon changed to a deep-toned, booming bark. we followed his glance. the zulus were on the crest of the ridge about half a mile behind. i at once gave orders to the drivers to resume their normal pace. further flight--as flight--was useless and impolitic. "put the dog into the tent waggon and tie him there," i said to falkner. "he knows you better than he does me, and might give me trouble. we don't want him damaged at any rate." even falkner found it by no means easy to work his will with the now infuriated animal, which with hackles erect was facing in the direction of the impending aggression, making the air resound with his roaring bark; and only he managed it by his characteristically drastic methods in the shape of a double _reim_ well laid on. as it was i thought the dog would have pinned him. however he managed to get him into the tent waggon and securely tied. hardly had he rejoined me when the whole crowd was upon us, shouting and roaring as they surrounded the waggons, bringing them to a standstill. "i see you!" i said, coldly sarcastic. "well, and what is it you want now?" for i had recognised several who had taken part in the former riot, what time dolf norbury had appeared upon the scene. "want? what we want is the dog--the white dog," came the reply. "the dog which you have stolen, abelungu." "the white dog. the dog which we have stolen," i repeated sarcastically. "but the dog belongs to our people on the other side-- and we are taking him back. if he has been stolen it is from them." "from them. ha! that is a lie, umlungu. give us the dog, or we will take him and everything you have got besides." "i think not," i said. "but as i cannot talk with a number at once, i must talk with one. where is that one?" the clamour redoubled but of it i took no notice. i filled my pipe deliberately, and handed the pouch to falkner. "what are they saying?" he asked. i told him. "well, we ain't going to give up the dog," he said. "i'll see them damned first," and in his excitement he appended a great deal more that it is not expedient to reproduce. "i'm with you there," i said. "and now," relapsing into the vernacular, as a ringed man came forward--he was an evil-looking rascal, and i recognised him as having been among those who had troubled us before. "and now to begin with--who claims him?" "udolfu." "udolfu? well how long has he had him, and where did he get him?" "that is nothing to you, umlungu. he is udolfu's dog, and we are come for him. so give him to us." "do you think you could take him yourselves and alive?" i said banteringly, for the savage and frenzied barks of arlo within the waggon pretty well drowned our talk. "we will take him, i say. bring him out." "bring him out--bring him out," roared the crowd, brandishing assegais and rapping their shields, in an indescribable clamour. "_hau_! _umfane_! i will cut thee into little pieces," cried one fellow, seizing my boy tom by the throat and brandishing a big assegai as though he would rip him up. "have done!" i said pulling my revolver and covering the savage. "see. we hold plenty of lives here." falkner too had drawn his and was eagerly expecting the word from me to let go. "hold!" roared the spokesman, in such wise as to cause the aggressive one to fall back. "now, umlungu, give us the dog." "first of all," i said, "if the dog belongs to udolfu, why is not udolfu here himself to claim him? is he afraid?" "he is not afraid, umlungu," answered the man, with a wave of the hand. "for--here he is." a man on horseback came riding furiously up. with him were a lot more armed zulus running hard to keep pace with him. in a twinkling i recognised we were in a hard tight place, for the number around us already i estimated at a couple of hundred. he was armed this time, for he carried a rifle and i could see a business-like six-shooter peeping out of a side pocket. it was our old friend, dolf norbury. "hallo, you two damned slinking dog thieves," he sung out, as the crowd parted to make way for him. "here we are again you see. not yet within british jurisdiction, eh?" there was a banging report at my ear, and lo, dolf norbury and his horse were mixed up in a kicking struggling heap. "i don't take that sort of talk from any swine, especially outside british jurisdiction," growled falkner, hurriedly jamming in a cartridge to replace the one he had fired. there was a rush to extricate the fallen man, and ascertain damages. it turned out that he had not been hit but his horse was killed. he himself however seemed half stunned as he staggered to his feet. then up went his rifle but the bullet sang high over our heads in the unsteadiness of his aim. "put up your hands!" i sung out, covering him before he could draw his pistol. "hands up, or you're dead, by god!" he obeyed. clearly he had been under fire enough. "go in and take his pistol, sewin," i said, still covering him steadily. "if he moves he's dead." it was a tense moment enough, as falkner walked coolly between the rows of armed savages, for to drive half a dozen spears through him, and massacre the lot of us would have been the work of a moment to them, but i realised that boldness was the only line to adopt under the circumstances. even then i don't know how the matter would have ended, but some sort of diversion seemed to be in the air, for heads were turned, and murmurs went up. still no weapon was raised against us. "i've drawn his teeth now, at any rate, the sweep!" said falkner with a grin, as he returned and threw down the discomfited man's weapons. "i say dolf, old sportsman," he sung out banteringly. "feel inclined for another spar? because if so, come on. or d'you feel too groggy in the nut?" but now i had taken in the cause of the diversion. the opposite ridge-- that between us and the river--was black with zulus. on they came, in regular rapid march, hundreds and hundreds of them. they carried war shields and the large _umkonto_ or broad stabbing spear, but had no war adornments except the _isityoba_, or leglet of flowing cow-hair. those of our molesters who had been most uproarious were silent now, watching the approach of the newcomers. dolf norbury sat stupidly staring. the roaring bark of arlo tied within the waggon rose strangely weird above the sudden silence. "i say," broke out falkner. "have we got to fight all these? because if so, the odds ain't fair." for all that he looked as if he was willing to undertake even this. whatever his faults, falkner sewin was a good man to have beside one in a tight place. "no," i said. "there's no more fight here, unless i'm much mistaken. this is a king's impi." it was a fine sight to see them approach, that great dark phalanx. soon they halted just before the waggons, and a shout of _sibongo_ went up from the turbulent crowd who had been mobbing and threatening us but a little while since. the two chiefs in command i knew well, untuswa, a splendid old warrior and very friendly to the whites, and mundula, both indunas of the king. "who are these?" said the first, sternly, when we had exchanged greetings. "are they here to trade, iqalaqala?" "not so, right hand of the great great one," i answered. "they are here to threaten and molest us--and it is not the first time some of them have visited us on the same errand. we are peaceful traders in the land of zulu, and assuredly there are many here who know that this is not the first time i have come into the land as such." a hum of assent here went up from the warriors in the background. those i had thus denounced looked uncommonly foolish. still i would not spare them. it is necessary to keep up one's prestige and if those who are instrumental in trying to lower it suffer, why that is their lookout, not mine. "he is a liar, chief," interrupted dolf norbury, savagely. "these two have stolen my dog and i and my people have come to recover him. before they came in to try and steal my trade. that is where we quarrelled before." untuswa heard him but coldly. as i have said, dolf norbury was not in favour with the more respectable chiefs of zululand at that time. quickly i put our side of the case before this one. "this i will look into," he said. "it is not often we have to settle differences between white people, especially amangisi [english]. but the great great one, that elephant who treads the same path as the queen, will have order in the land--wherefore are we here," with a wave of his hand towards his armed warriors; from whom deep-toned utterances of _sibongo_ went up at the naming of the royal titles. "with the matter of the trade, i have nothing to do. but, iqalaqala, udolfu says you have stolen his dog, though had it been his lion he had said, i think he would have uttered no lie, for in truth we could hear his roars while yet far away," added the old induna with a comical laugh all over his fine face. "now bring forth this wonderful beast, for we would fain see him." "get out the dog, sewin," i said. "the chief wants to see him." "yes, but what the devil has all the jaw been about? it's all jolly fine for you, but i'm not in the fun," he growled. "never mind. i'll tell you presently. leave it all to me now. you've got to, in fact." falkner climbed into the waggon, and in a moment reappeared with arlo, still holding him in his improvised leash. at sight of him the warriors in the impi set up a murmur of admiration. "loose him," said untuswa. i translated this to falkner, and he complied. the dog walked up and down, growling and suspicious. "see now, udolfu," said untuswa, who had been watching the splendid beast with some admiration. "this is your dog. now call him, and take him away with you." "arno!" called norbury. "here, arno, old chap. come along home. good dog." but the "good dog" merely looked sideways at him and growled the harder. "_arno_. d'you hear? come here, sir. damn you. d'you hear!" the growls increased to a sort of thunder roll. "_whau_!" said mundula. "that is a strange sort of dog to own--a dog that will not come, but growls at his master when he calls him instead." "i have not had him long enough to know me thoroughly," said dolf. "those two, who stole him from me, have taught him better." "call him in the other direction, falkner," i said. this he did, and the dog went frisking after him as he ran a little way out over the veldt, and back again, both on the best understanding with each other in the world. "_au_! the matter is clear enough," pronounced untuswa. "the dog himself has decided it. he is not yours, udolfu. yet, iqalaqala, may it not be that those with whom you last saw the dog may have sold him?" "that is quite impossible, leader of the valiant," i answered. "from those who own him no price would buy him. no, not all the cattle in the kraals of the great great one. further, he has not even got the sound of the dog's name right," and i made clear the difference between the "l" and the "n" which the other had substituted for it. "_au_! that is a long price to pay for one dog, fine though he is," said untuswa with the same comical twinkle in his eyes. "well, it is clear to whom the dog belongs. you," with a commanding sweep of the hand towards the riotous crowd who had first molested us, "go home." there was no disputing the word of an induna of the king. the former rioters saluted submissively and melted away. dolf norbury, however, remained. "will the chief ask them," he said, cunningly, "why they had to leave majendwa's country in a hurry, and why they are bringing back about half their trade goods?" "we did not leave in a hurry," i answered, "and as for trade goods, the people seemed not willing to trade. for the rest, we have plenty of cattle, which are even now crossing inncome, driven by boys whom muntisi the son of majendwa sent with us." "that is a lie," responded norbury. "they had too many eyes, and looked too closely into what did not concern them. they had to fly, and now they will carry strange stories to the english about the doings on the zulu side." this, i could see, made some impression upon the warriors. however, i confined myself simply to contradicting it. then norbury asked the chief to order the return of his weapons. "i need no such order," i said. "i am willing to return them, but--i must have all the cartridges in exchange." he was obliged to agree, which he did sullenly. as he threw down the bandolier and emptied his pockets of his pistol cartridges he said: "glanton, my good friend--if you value your life i warn you not to come to this section of the zulu country any more. if it hadn't been for this crowd happening up, you'd both have been dead meat by now. you can take my word for that." "oh no, i don't," i answered. "i've always been able to take care of myself, and i fancy i'll go on doing it. so don't you bother about that. here are your shooting-irons." "what about my horse? you've shot my horse you know. what are you going to stand for him?" "oh blazes take you and your impudence," struck in falkner. "i'm only sorry it wasn't you i pinked instead of the gee. outside british jurisdiction, you know," he added with an aggravating grin. "stand? stand you another hammering if you like to stand up and take it. you won't? all right. good-bye. we've no time to waste jawing with any blighted dog-stealer like you." the expression of the other's face was such that i felt uncommonly glad i had insisted on taking his cartridges; and at the same time only trusted he had not an odd one left about him. but the only weapon available was a string of the direst threats of future vengeance, interspersed with the choicest blasphemies, at which falkner laughed. "you came along like a lion, old cock," he said, "and it strikes me you're going back like a lamb. ta-ta." i talked a little further with the two chiefs, and then we resumed our way, they walking with us as far as the drift. as to the state of the border untuswa shook his head. "see now, iqalaqala," he said. "one thing you can tell your people, and that is that any trouble you may have met with in the land where the great great one rules has not been at the hands of his people but at those of your own." this was in reference to all sorts of reports that were being circulated with regard to the so-called enormities of cetywayo, and the hostility of his people; and the point of it i, of course, fully recognised. i made the chiefs a liberal present, out of the remnant of the things we were taking back with us. we took leave of them at the drift, and the whole impi, gathered on the rising ground, watched us cross and raised a sonorous shout of farewell. under all the circumstances i was not sorry to be back over the border, but i decided to trek on a good bit before outspanning lest dolf norbury should yet find means to play us some bad trick. and then--for home! chapter twenty three. "welcome home!" i envied falkner as he parted company with me, for he wanted to go straight home, and my store was all out of his way in the other direction. we had returned by the same route as that by which we had gone, skirting the border and re-crossing by rorke's drift; and no further incident worthy of note had befallen us. "see here, falkner," i said, as he would have left me in cool offhand fashion. "we've made this trip and taken its ups and downs together, and more than once i've had reason to be glad that you were along. but if we haven't got on as well as we might during the last part of it, really i can't see that it is altogether my fault. nor need we bear each other any ill-will," and i put out my hand. he stared, then shook it, but not cordially, mumbling something in a heavy, sullen sort of way. then he rode off. it had been a temptation to accompany him, and he had even suggested it, but i saw through his ill-concealed relief when i declined. i had plenty to attend to on first arriving home again, and it struck me that neglect of one's business was hardly a recommendation in the eyes of anybody. yes, i had plenty to attend to. the waggons had to be off-loaded and kraals knocked into repair for holding the trade cattle, and a host of other things. i paid off mfutela and his son, and sent them back well contented, and with something over. but jan boom, when it came to his turn, seemed not eager to go. then he put things plainly. would i not keep him? he would like to remain with me, and i should find him useful. there were the trade cattle to be looked after, to begin with, and then, there was nothing he could not turn his hand to. he would not ask for high wages, and was sure i should find him worth them--yes, well worth them, he added. had he not been worth his pay so far? i admitted readily that this was so, and the while i was wondering why he should be so anxious to remain? there seemed some meaning underlying the manner in which he almost begged me to keep him, and this set me wondering. going back over our trip i could not but remember that he had proved an exceedingly willing, handy and good-tempered man, and my earlier prejudice against him melted away. "i will keep you then, jan boom," i said, after thinking the matter out for a few minutes. "_nkose_! there is only one thing i would ask," he said, "and that is that you will tell me when three moons are dead whether you regret having kept me on or not." i thought the request strange, and laughed as i willingly gave him that promise. i still held to my theory that he had broken gaol somewhere or other, and had decided that he had now found a tolerably secure hiding-place; and if such were so, why from my point of interest that was all the better, if only that it would keep him on his best behaviour. all the morning of the day following on my return i was busy enough, but by the early afternoon felt justified in starting to pay my first visit to the sewins. as i took my way down the bush path i had plenty of time for thought, and gave myself up to the pleasures of anticipation. those last words: "you will come and see us directly you return. i shall look forward to it," were ringing in a kind of melody in my mind, as my horse stepped briskly along. and now, what would my reception be? it must not be supposed that i had not thought, and thought a great deal, as to the future during the couple of months our trip had lasted. hour after hour under the stars, i had lain awake thinking out everything. if all was as i hardly dared to hope, i would give up my present knockabout life, and take a good farm somewhere and settle down. if not--well i hardly cared to dwell upon that. of falkner in the light of any obstacle, strange to say i thought not at all. from one point of the path where it rounded a spur the homestead became momentarily visible. reining in i strained my eyes upon it, but it showed no sign of life--no flutter of light dresses about the stoep or garden. well, it was early afternoon, hot and glowing. likely enough no one would be willingly astir. then a thought came that filled my mind with blank--if speculative--dismay. what if the family were away from home? the stillness about the place now took on a new aspect. well, that sort of doubt could soon be set at rest one way or another, and i gave my horse a touch of the spur that sent him floundering down the steep and stony path with a snort of surprised indignation. we had got on to the level now and the ground was soft and sandy. as we dived down into a dry drift something rushed at us from the other side with open-mouthed and threatening growl, which however subsided at once into a delighted whine. it was arlo--and there on the bank above sat arlo's mistress. she had a drawing block in her hand and a colour box beside her. quickly she rose, and i could have sworn i saw a flush of pleasure steal over the beautiful face. i was off my horse in a twinkling. the tall, graceful form came easily forward to meet me. "welcome home," she said, as our hands clasped. "i am so glad to see you again. and you have kept your promise indeed. why we hardly expected you before to-morrow or the day after." "it was a great temptation to me to come over with falkner yesterday," i answered. "but, a man must not neglect his business." "of course not. it is so good of you to have come now." "good of me! i seem to remember that you would look forward to it--that last night i was here," i answered, a bit thrown off my balance by the manner of her greeting. that "welcome home," and the spontaneous heartiness of it, well it would be something to think about. "well, and that is just what i have been doing," she answered gaily. "there! now i hope you feel duly flattered." "i do indeed," i answered gravely. "and i am so glad we have met like this," she continued, "because now we shall be able to have a good long talk. the others are all more or less asleep, but i didn't feel lazy, so came down here to reduce that row of stiff euphorbia to paper. i have taken up my drawing again, and there are delightful little bits for water-colour all round here." the spot was as secluded and delightful as one could wish. the high bank and overhanging bushes gave ample shade, and opposite, with the scarlet blossoms of a kafir bean for foreground, rose a small cliff, its brow fringed with the organ pipe stems of a line of euphorbia. "lie down, arlo," she enjoined. "what a fortunate thing it was you were able to recover him. i don't know how to thank you." "of course you don't, because no question of thanking me comes in," i said. "i would sooner have found him as we did, than make anything at all out of the trip, believe me." "and your trip was not a great success after all, falkner tells us?" "oh we did well enough, though i have done better. but to return to arlo. the mystery to me--to both of us--was how on earth he ever managed to let himself be stolen." "ah. that dreadful witch doctor must have been at the bottom of it. i only know that one morning he--arlo not ukozi--had disappeared, and no inquiry of ours could get at the faintest trace of him. his disappearance, in fact, was as complete as that of that poor mr hensley." "old hensley hasn't turned up again, then?" i said. "no. mr kendrew is getting more and more easy in his mind. he's a shocking boy, you know, and says he's too honest to pretend to be sorry if he comes into a fine farm to end his days on," she said, with a little smile, that somehow seemed to cast something of a damper on the delight of the present situation. "confound kendrew," i thought to myself. "who the deuce wants to talk of kendrew now?" "tell me, mr glanton," she went on, after a slight pause. "you got my letter i know, because falkner has told us how he got the one mother wrote him. did you think me very weak and foolish for allowing myself to get frightened as i did?" "you know i did not," i answered, with quite unnecessary vehemence. "why i was only too proud and flattered that you should have consulted me at all. but, of course it was all somewhat mysterious. is ukozi about here now?" "we haven't seen him for some days. do you know, i can't help connecting his non-appearance with your return in some way. he must have known you would soon be here. father is quite irritable and angry about it. he says the witch doctor promised to let him into all sorts of things. now he pronounces him an arrant humbug." "that's the best sign of all," i said, "and i hope he'll continue of that opinion. when elderly gentlemen take up fads bearing upon the occult especially, why, it isn't good for them. you don't mind my saying this?" "mind? of course i don't mind. why should i have bothered you with my silly fears and misgivings--at a time too when you had so much else to think about--if i were to take offence at what you said? and it seems so safe now that you are near us again." what was this? again a sort of shadow seemed to come over our talk. was it only on account of some imaginary protection my presence might afford that she had been so cordially and unfeignedly glad to welcome me? "i think you may make your mind quite easy now," i said. "this ukozi had some end of his own to serve, possibly that of stealing the dog, which he knew he could trade for a good price in zululand, and probably did. i suppose falkner gave you a full, true and particular account of how we bested the precious specimen who claimed him." she laughed. "oh, he's been bragging about that, and all your adventures--or rather his--up there, in quite his own style." "well, there was nothing for either of us to brag about in the way we recovered arlo," i said. "if the king's impi hadn't happened along in the nick of time i own frankly we might never have been able to recover him at all. it was a hundred to one, you understand." again she laughed, significantly, and i read into the laugh the fact that she did not quite accept falkner's narratives at precisely falkner's own valuation. "how did falkner behave himself?" she went on. "oh, he was all right. he was always spoiling for a fight and on one occasion he got it. i daresay he has told you about that." "yes," she said, with the same significant laugh. "he gave us a graphic account of it." "well he has plenty of pluck and readiness, and a man might have many a worse companion in an emergency." "it's nice of you to say that. i don't believe he was a bit nice to you." "oh, only a boy's sulks," i said airily. "nothing to bother oneself about in that." "but was that all?" she rejoined, lifting her clear eyes to my face. "perhaps not," i answered, then something in her glance moved me to add: "may i tell you then, what it was that caused our differences, who it was, rather?" and i put forth my hand. "yes," she said, taking it. "tell me." "it was yourself." "myself?" "yes. do you remember what you said that last evening i was here? i do. i've treasured every word of it since. you said i was to come and see you directly i returned, and that you would look forward to it." she nodded, smiling softly. "yes. and i have. and--what did you answer?" "i answered that i would look forward to it every day until it came. and i have." "and is the result disappointing?" "you know it is not." i have stated elsewhere that i seldom err in my reading of the human countenance, and now it seemed that all paradise was opening before my eyes as i noticed a slight accession of colour to the beautiful face, a deepening of the tender smile which curved the beautiful lips. then words poured forth in a torrent. what was i saying? for the life of me i could not tell, but one thing was certain. i was saying what i meant. then again her hand reached forth to mine, and its pressure, while maddening me, told that whatever i was saying, it at any rate was not unacceptable when-- arlo, who had been lying at our feet, sprang up and growled, then subsided immediately, wagging his tail and whining as he snuffed in the direction of the sound of approaching footsteps. "hallo, glanton," sung out a gruff voice. "you taking lessons in high art? they're wondering where you've got to, aida. they're going to have tea." "well, tell them not to wait. i'll be in directly when i'm ready." "oh no. no hurry about that," answered falkner with an evil grin, flinging himself on the ground beside us, and proceeding leisurely to fill his pipe. "we'll all stroll back together--eh, glanton?" i am ashamed to remember how i hated falkner sewin at that moment. had he heard what i had been saying, or any part of it? but he had thrust his obnoxious presence between it and the answer, and that sort of opportunity does not readily recur, and if it does, why the repetition is apt to fall flat. he lay there, maliciously watching me--watching us--and the expression of his face was not benevolent, although he grinned. he noted his cousin's slight confusion, and delighted to add to it by keeping his glance fixed meaningly upon her face. then he would look from the one to the other of us, and his grin would expand. there was a redeeming side to his disgust at the situation from his point of view. he was annoying us both--annoying us thoroughly--and he knew it. she, for her part, showed no sign of it as she continued her painting serenely. further exasperated, falkner began teasing arlo, and this had the effect of wearying aida of the situation. she got up and announced her intention of returning to the house. and falkner, walking on the other side of her, solaced himself with making objectionable remarks, in an objectionable tone, knowing well that the same stopped just short of anything one could by any possibility take up. chapter twenty four. "the answer is--yes." nothing could exceed the warmth and cordiality of the reception i experienced at the hands of the rest of the family. i might have been one of themselves so rejoiced they all seemed at having me in their midst again--all of course save falkner. but among the feminine side of the house i thought to detect positive relief, as though my return had dispelled some shadowy and haunting apprehension. there was something about the old major, however, that convinced me he was cherishing an idea in the back ground, an idea upon which he would invite my opinion at the earliest opportunity. and that opportunity came. "let's stroll down and look at the garden, glanton," he began, presently. "i want to show you what i've been doing while you were away." and without giving anyone an opportunity of joining us, even if they had wanted to, he led the way forth. i listened as he expatiated upon the improvements he had been making, even as i had listened many a time before, but it struck me his explanations were a little incoherent, a little flurried, like the speech of a man who is not talking of that which lies uppermost in his mind. he continued thus until we had reached the furthest limit of the cultivated ground, where a high bush fence shut this off from possible depredations on the part of bucks or other nocturnal marauders. it was a secluded spot, and there was no sign of any of the others intending to join us. "try one of these cigars, glanton," he began, tendering his case. then, after one final look round to make sure we were not only alone, but likely to remain so, he went on: "let's sit down here and have a quiet smoke. there's something i want to get your opinion about. you know this witch doctor chap, ukozi?" "of course i do. what has he been up to?" "up to? oh, nothing. but the fact is i have taken a liking to the fellow. he interests me. he's been showing me some queer things of late--yes, devilish queer things. and he's promised to show me some more." "what sort of queer things, major?" i struck in. "all sorts. well, the finding of aida's lost coin was a queer enough thing in itself. now wasn't it?" "yes. but--it's mere conjuring. you'd probably be surprised to know how the trick was done." "no doubt. but--do you know?" this somewhat eagerly. "no, i don't. i doubt though, whether it's worth knowing. well, major, you've got bitten with a sort of inclination towards occultism, and ukozi comes in handy as a means of showing you a thing or two. isn't that it?" "well yes. but--glanton, i seem to have heard you admit that these fellows can do a good deal. yet, now you make light of this one?" "to speak frankly, major, i think the less you have to do with him, or any of his kidney, the better. by the way, how the dickens do you manage to talk to him? have you learnt?" "oh, i work that through ivondwe. that's a treasure you've found for us, glanton. yes sir, a real treasure. he takes all the bother and anxiety of the place clean off my hands." "that's good," i said. but at the same time i was not at all sure that it was. i recalled to mind what aida had said in her letter with regard to "an influence" under which they seemed to be drawn, this old man especially. no, it was not good that he should be on such terms with natives, and one of them his own servant. for the first time i began to distrust ivondwe, though as yet i was groping entirely in the dark. for one thing, i could see no adequate motive. motive is everything, bearing in mind what an essentially practical animal your savage invariably is; and here there was none. "well?" said the major expectantly, impatient under my silence. the truth was i found myself in something of a quandary. old gentlemen-- notably those of the anglo-indian persuasion--were, i knew, prone to exceeding impatience under criticism of their latest fad, and for reasons which scarcely need guessing never was there a time when i felt less inclined to incur the resentment of this one. "i can only repeat what i said before, major?" i answered. "candidly i think you'd better leave ukozi, and his occultism, alone." "but it interests me, man. i tell you it interests me. why shouldn't i be allowed to make interesting investigations if i have a mind to? answer me that." "look here," i said. "i know these people, major, and you don't. i have a good many `eyes and ears'--as they would put it--scattered about among them, and i'll try and find out what ukozi's game is. he hasn't started in to fleece you any, you say?" "no. that he certainly hasn't." "all the more reason why he needs looking after. well now don't you have anything more to say to him, at any rate until you hear from me again." "he won't give me the chance. i haven't seen him for quite a long time. he's never been away for so long a time before." in my own mind i could not but connect ukozi's sudden absenteeism in some way with my return. "here come the others," went on the major. "and glanton," he added hurriedly, "don't let on to the women about what i've been telling you, there's a good fellow." i was rather glad to be spared the necessity of making or avoiding any promise. it was near sundown, and as they joined us for a stroll in the cool of the evening i thought to catch a significant flash in aida's eyes, as though she were fully aware of the burden of her father's conversation with me. falkner was away at the kraals, for it was counting in time, and i for one did not regret his absence. yes, it was a ray of paradise that sunset glow, as we walked among the flowers in the dew of the evening, for although we two were not alone together yet there was a sweet subtle understanding between us which was infinitely restful. falkner's interruption, however unwelcome, had not been altogether inopportune, for it had occurred too late; too late, that is, to prevent a very real understanding, though precluding anything more definite. that would come with the next opportunity. "the usual storm," remarked mrs sewin, looking up, as a low, heavy boom sounded from a black pile of cloud beyond the river valley. "we get one nearly every day now, and, oh dear, i never can get used to them, especially at night." "pooh!" said the major. "there's no harm in them, and we've got two new conductors on the house. we're right as trivets, eh, glanton?" "absolutely, i should say," i answered. we had completed our stroll and had just returned to the house. it would soon be dinner time and already was almost dark. we were very merry that evening i remember. the major, glad of someone else to talk to, was full of jokes and reminiscences, while i, happy in the consciousness of the presence beside me, joined heartily in the old man's mirth, and we were all talking and laughing round the table as we had never talked and laughed before. only falkner was sulky, and said nothing; which was rather an advantage, for his remarks would certainly have been objectionable had he made any. then suddenly in the middle of some comic anecdote, came a crash which seemed to shake the house to its very foundations, setting all the glasses and crockery on the table rattling. mrs sewin uttered a little scream. "mercy! we're struck!" she gasped. "not we," returned the major. "but that was a blazer, by jingo!" "pretty near," growled falkner. "oh, it's horrid," said mrs sewin, "and there's no getting away from it." "no, there isn't," i said. "if you were in london now you might get away from it by burrowing underground. i knew a man there whose wife was so mortally scared of thunder and lightning that whenever a storm became imminent she used to make him take her all round the inner circle. she could neither see nor hear anything of it in the underground train." "that was ingenious. did you invent that story, mr glanton?" said edith sewin, mischievously. another crash drowned the laugh that followed, and upon the ensuing silence, a strange hollow roar was audible. "the river's down, by jove!" growled falkner. "no. it isn't the river. it's a tremendously heavy rain shower," i said, listening. "let's go outside and see what it looks like," he went on pushing back his chair. we had done dinner, and this proposal seemed to find favour, for a move was made accordingly. we went out we four, for mrs sewin was afraid to stir and the major remained in with her. nearer and nearer the roar of the rain cloud approached, though as yet not a drop had fallen over us. again the blue lightning leaped forth, simultaneously with another appalling crash, cutting short a wrangle which had got up between falkner and edith sewin, and ending it in a little squeal on the part of the latter. but already i had seized my opportunity, under cover of the racket. "that question i was asking you to-day when we were interrupted," i whispered to my companion. "it was not answered." then came the flash. in the blue gleam, bright as noon-day, i could see the beautiful, clear cut face turned upwards, as though watching the effect, with calm serenity. through the thunder roar that followed i could still catch the words. "the answer is--yes. will that satisfy you?" and a hand found mine in a momentary pressure. thus amid black darkness and lightning and storm our troth was plighted. an ill omen? i thought not. on the contrary, it seemed appropriate to my case; for in it much of a hard but healthy life had been passed amid rude exposure to the elements, and that i should have secured the happiness--the great happiness--of my life amid the battling forces of the said elements seemed not unfitting. the vast rain cloud went whooping along the river-bed, gleaming in starry sparkle as the lightning beams stabbed it, but not a drop fell upon us. the storm had passed us by. chapter twenty five. the witch doctor again. from the moment that aida sewin and i had become engaged life was, to me, almost too good to live. as i have said, i was no longer young, and now it seemed to me that my life up till now had been wasted, and yet not, for i could not but feel intensely thankful that i had kept it for her. i might have been "caught young," and have made the utter mess of life in consequence that i had seen in the case of many of my contemporaries, but i had not, and so was free to drink to the full of this new found cup of happiness. and full it was, and running over. of course i didn't intend to remain on at isipanga. the trading and knockabout days were over now. i would buy a good farm and settle down, and this resolve met with aida's entire approval. she had no more taste for a town life than i had myself. the only thing she hoped was that i should find such a place not too far from her people. "the fact is i don't know how they'll ever get on without you," she said one day when we were talking things over. "they are getting old, you see, and falkner isn't of much use, between ourselves. i doubt if he ever will be." this made me laugh, remembering falkner's aspirations and the cocksure way in which he had "warned me off" that night in majendwa's country. but i was as willing to consider her wishes in this matter, as i was in every other. falkner had accepted the situation, well--much as i should have expected him to, in that he had sulked, and made himself intensely disagreeable for quite a long time. i was sorry for him, but not so much as i might have been, for i felt sure that it was his conceit which had received the wound rather than his feelings. which sounds ill natured. tyingoza was not particularly elated when i broke the news of my intended departure. "so you are going to build a new hut at last, iqalaqala," he said, with a chuckle. "i am, but not here." "not here?" "no. i am going to leave trading, and raise cattle instead." "the people will be sorry, iqalaqala, for we have been friends. _au_! is it not ever so in life? you hold a man by the hand, and lo, a woman takes hold of his other hand, and--he holds yours no more." "but in this case we still hold each other by the hand, tyingoza," i said. "for i am not going into another country nor does the whole world lie between isipanga and where i shall be." "the people will be sorry," he repeated. it was not long before kendrew found his way over. "heard you were back, glanton," he said. "well and how did you get on with sewin up-country?" "middling. he has his uses, and--he hasn't." "well, i shouldn't find any use for him for long. it's all i can do to stand that dashed commandeering way of his, and `haw-haw' swagger, as it is. been down there since you got back? but of course you have," he added with a knowing laugh. "i say though, but doesn't it seem a sin to bury two splendid looking girls in an out-of-the-way place like this?" "don't know about that. at any rate i propose to bury one of them in just such an out-of-the-way place," i answered. "i believe it's the thing to offer congratulations on these occasions, so congratulate away, kendrew. i'll try and take it calmly." "eh--what the dev--oh i say, glanton--you don't mean--?" "yes, i do mean. compose yourself, kendrew. you look kind of startled." "which of them is it?" "guess," i said, on mischief intent, for i detected a note of eagerness in his tone and drew my own conclusions. "the eldest of course?" "right," i answered after a moment of hesitation intended to tease him a little longer. "why then, i do congratulate you, old chap," he said with a heartiness in which i thought his own relief found vent. "i say though. you haven't lost much time about it." "no? well you must allow for the hastiness of youth." and then he fired off a lot more good wishes, and soon suggested we should ride over to the sewins together as he was so near. and reading his motive i sympathised with him and agreed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ two months had gone by since my engagement to aida sewin and they had gone by without a cloud. if i were to say that a larger proportion of them was spent by me at her father's place than at my own, decidedly i should not be exaggerating. but we learnt to know each other very thoroughly in that time, and the more i learnt to know her the more did i marvel what i had done to deserve one hundredth part of the happiness that henceforth was to irradiate my life. truly our sky was without a cloud. i had found a farm that seemed likely to suit me. it was now only a question of price, and the owner was more than likely to come down to mine. the place was distant by only a few hours' easy ride, and that was a consideration. "everything seems to favour us," aida said. "you know, dear, it is such a relief to me to know that we need not be far away from the old people after all. i would of course go to the other ends of the earth with you if necessity required it, but at the same time i am deeply thankful it does not. and then, you know, you needn't be afraid of any of the `relations-in-law' bugbear; because they look up to you so. in fact we have come to look upon you as a sort of providence. while you were away, if anything went wrong, father would fume a bit and always end by saying: `i wish to heaven glanton was back. it would be all right if glanton were here!' mother, too, would say much the same. so you see you will have very amenable relations-in-law after all." "oh, i'm not afraid of that in the least," i answered. "as a matter of fact, as you know, i don't think your father was at all well advised in coming out here to set up farming at his age and with his temperament. but now he is here we must pull him through, and we'll do it all right, never fear. but aida, if it was a wrong move on his part think what it has resulted in for me." "and for me," she said softly. i have set out in this narrative deliberately to spare the reader detailed accounts of love passages between myself and this beautiful and peerless woman whose love i had so strangely won; for i hold that such are very far too sacred to be imparted to a third person, or put down in black and white for the benefit of the world at large. suffice it that the most exacting under the circumstances could have had no reason to complain of any lack of tenderness on her part--ah, no indeed! this conversation took place during a long walk which we had been taking. aida was fond of walking, and, except for long distances, preferred it to riding; wherein again our tastes coincided. she was observant too and keenly fond of nature; plants, insects, birds, everything interested her; and if she saw anything she wanted to look at she could do it far better, she said, on foot than on horseback. so we had taken to walking a good deal. this afternoon we had been to a certain point on the river which she had wanted to sketch, and now were returning leisurely through the bush, picking our way along cattle or game paths. arlo, for once, was not with us. falkner had taken him in the other direction. he wanted to train him as a hunting dog, he said, and now he had gone after a bush-buck. the glory of the slanting sun rays swept wide and golden over the broad river valley as the sinking disc touched the green gold line of the further ridge, then sank beneath it, leaving the sweep of bush-clad mound and lower lying level first lividly clear, then indistinct in the purple afterglow. birds had ceased to pipe farewell to the last light of falling day, and here and there along the river bank a jackal was shrilly baying. but if the light of day had failed, with it another lamp had been lighted in the shape of a broad moon approaching its full, its globe reddening into an increasing glow with the twilight darkening of the sky. "we shall pass by the waterhole," i said. "you are not afraid." "afraid? with you? but it is an uncanny place. we have rather avoided it since that time we first saw that weird thing in it. but we have been there since in the daytime with falkner, and father, and whatever the thing may have been we have never seen it since." "well, we'll have a look at it in this grand moonlight. perhaps the bogey may condescend to appear again." "hark!" exclaimed aida suddenly. "what is that?" then listening--"why, it's a lamb or a kid that must have strayed or been left out." a shrill bleat came to our ears--came from the bush on the further side of the hole to us, but still a little way beyond it. "couldn't we manage to catch it?" she went on. "it'll be eaten by the jackals, poor little thing." "instead of by us," i laughed. "well, it doesn't make much difference to it though it does to its owner. wait--don't speak," i added in a whisper, for my ears had caught a sound which hers had missed. we stood motionless. we were on high ground not much more than twenty yards above the pool, every part of which we could see as it lay, its placid surface showing like a dull, lack-lustre eye in the moonlight. in the gloom of the bush we were completely hidden, but through the sprays we could see everything that might take place. again the bleat went forth shrilly, this time much nearer. but--it ceased suddenly, as if it had been choked off in the middle. a dark figure stood beside the pool, on the very brink, the figure of a man--a native--and in his hands he held something white--something that struggled. it was a half-bred angora kid--the little animal whose bleat we had heard. i could see the glint of the man's head-ring in the moonlight; then for a moment, as he turned it upward, i could see his face, and it was that of ukozi, the one-eyed witch doctor. an increased pressure on my arm told that my companion had seen it too. i dared not speak, for i was curious to see what he was about to do. i could only motion her to preserve the strictest silence. the witch doctor stood waving the kid--held in both hands by the fore and hind feet--high over his head, and chanting a deep-toned incantation; yet in such "dark" phraseology was this couched that even i couldn't make head or tail of it. it seemed to call upon some "spirit of the dew" whatever that might be, and was so wrapped up in "dark" talk as to be unintelligible failing a key. then, as we looked, there arose a splashing sound. the surface of the pool was disturbed. a sinuous undulation ran through it in a wavy line, right across the pool, and then--and then--a mighty length rose glistening from the water, culminating in a hideous head whose grisly snout and sunken eye were those of the python species. this horror glided straight across to where the witch doctor stood, and as it reached him its widely-opened jaws seemed to champ down upon his head. not upon it, however, did they close, but upon the body of the white kid which he had deftly placed there, quickly springing back at the same time. then it turned, and as it glided back, the wretched little animal kicking and bleating frantically in its jaws, it seemed as if the hideous brute were rushing straight for us. aida's face was white as death, and i had to repress in her a panic longing to turn and fly. my firm touch however sufficed to calm her, and we crouched motionless, watching ukozi on the further side. the serpent had disappeared from our view. the whole thing was horrible and eerie to a degree. the witch doctor now was in a species of frenzy, walking up and down, with a half-dancing movement, as he called out, thick and fast, the _sibongo_ of the serpent. it was a nasty, uncanny, heathenish performance, and revolted me; although through it there shone one redeeming--even humorous--side. we had sat and watched it while ukozi was blissfully ignorant of our presence. he, the great witch doctor, had no inspiration or inkling that he was being watched! one day i would twit him with it. not long, however, did he stay there, and on aida's account i was glad to see the last of him. had i been alone i might have gone after him and asked the meaning of the performance. as it was, she had better forget it. for a time we sat there in the dead silence of the moonlight. "what does it mean?" she whispered, when we had allowed ukozi sufficient time to make himself scarce. "oh, some mumbo jumbo arrangement all his own," i answered. "well that certainly is a whacking big python--the very biggest i've ever seen. if i had anything in the shape of a gun i'd be inclined to try and sneak the brute wherever he's lying." "wouldn't it be in the water then?" "no. lying up somewhere under the banks. in hot weather they're fond of lying in a waterhole, but on a cool night like this--not. i must come and stalk the brute another night though; and yet, do you know, it seems strange, but i don't like interfering with anything that bears a sort of religious significance to anybody. and the snake does come in that way with zulus." she thought a moment. then: "you remember, dear, how i told you that one of the things this man was going to show father was the mystery of the waterhole. now supposing that horror had suddenly seized him?" an uncomfortable wave swept through me. the fact is that no white man, however well he is known to natives, ever gets really to the bottom of the darker mysteries of their superstitions, which indeed remain utterly unsuspected in most cases, so well are they concealed. who could say what might underlie this one! however i answered: "i don't think there would have been danger of that sort. ukozi would have shown him the performance we have witnessed, as something very wonderful. as a matter of fact it isn't wonderful at all, in that it resolves itself into a mere question of snake charming. ukozi has half trained this brute by feeding it periodically as we have seen. that's all. hallo!" well might i feel amazement, but the exclamation had escaped me involuntarily. we had come round the pool now, and here, very near the spot whereon ukozi had gone through his strange performance-- instinctively we had kept a little back from the water--an odour struck upon my nostrils, and it was the same sickly overpowering effluvium that had filled the air when my horse had refused to proceed on that memorable night i had intended to ride back from kendrew's. "what is it?" exclaimed aida, with a start. "nothing. nothing at all. i've frightened you, and you are a little wound up already by that uncanny performance," i answered. "frightened? no. i don't believe i could be that when i'm with you. i always feel so safe. otherwise it would seem strange that this witch doctor whom we have not seen for so long, and in fact whom we thought had left this part of the country, should have been here right in our midst all the time." "he may not have been. he may only just have returned," i said. "worthies of his profession are inclined to be somewhat sporadic in their movements. meanwhile if i were you, i wouldn't say anything about what we've just seen until i've had time to make a few inquiries." she promised, of course, and as we took our way homeward in the splendour of the clear african night we thought no more of the uncanny episode we had just witnessed, except as something out of the common which had lent an element of unexpected excitement to our walk. chapter twenty six. into empty air. i had completed my purchase of the farm, and was well satisfied with my bargain. it was a nice place, and the homestead was in good repair and very picturesquely situated, commanding a beautiful view. aida would revel in it. the veldt was good, and so were the faculties for stocking water. game too was plentiful, though the dark bushy kloofs intersecting a high _rand_ on one side of the place gave promise of the more undesirable kind from the stock-raiser's point of view--such as leopards and wild dogs and baboons. however it would be hard if i couldn't manage to keep the numbers of these down, and if they took toll of a calf or two now and then, why one could take toll of them in the way of sport--so that the thing was as broad as it was long. yes, i was well satisfied, and as i rode homeward i fell castle building. the place would be a paradise when i should take aida there. it was too marvellous. how could such a wealth of happiness come my way? there was no cloud to mar it. even as the vivid, unbroken blue of the sky overhead so was this marvel of bliss which had come in upon my life. there was no cloud to mar it. i was not rich but i had enough. i had done myself exceedingly well in the course of my ventures, and was beyond any anxiety or care for the future from a pecuniary point of view. i had always lived simply and had no expensive tastes. now i was beginning to reap the benefit of that fortunate condition of things. i could afford the luxury of castle building as i cantered along mile after mile in the glorious sunlight. i had not seen aida for three whole days, it was that time since the uncanny episode of the waterhole. now i was treasuring up the anticipation of our meeting, the light of glad welcome that would come into her eyes, only a few hours hence, for i would call in at my own place to see that things were all right, and get a bit of dinner, and ride on immediately afterwards. so, mile upon mile went by and at last shortly after mid-day i walked my horse up the long acclivity that led to my trading store. as i gained the latter i descried a horseman approaching from the other direction, and he was riding too--riding as if he didn't want to use his horse again for at least a week. by jove! it was kendrew, i made out as he came nearer, but--what the devil was kendrew in such a cast-iron, splitting hurry about? my boy tom came out as i dismounted. i hardly noticed that he hadn't got on the usual broad grin of welcome. "where is jan boom?" i asked. "he is out after the cattle, _nkose_," answered tom, rather glumly i thought. but i paid no attention to this, because tom had taken it into his head to be rather jealous of jan boom of late, as a newcomer and an alien who seemed to be rather more in his master's confidence than he had any right to be--from tom's point of view. "well, wait a bit," i said. "here comes another _nkose_, nyamaki's nephew. you can take his horse at the same time." kendrew came racing up as if he were riding for his life. "you back, glanton?" he cried, as he flung himself off his panting, dripping steed. "well, that's a devilish good job. i say. what does this mean?" "what does what mean?" "man! haven't you heard? they sent for me post-haste this morning. knew you were away." "quit jaw, kendrew, and tell me what the devil's the row," i said roughly, for some horrible fear had suddenly beset me. "miss sewin. she's disappeared," he jerked forth. "what?" i have an idea that i articulated the word, though speech stuck in my throat i felt myself go white and cold, and strong healthy man that i was, the surroundings danced before my eyes as though i were about to swoon. i remember too, that kendrew ground his teeth with pain under the grip that i had fastened upon his shoulder. "what do you say? disappeared?" i gasped forth again. "how? when?" i heard him as through a mist as he told me how the afternoon before she had gone for a walk alone with her dog. it was towards sundown. she had not returned, and a search had been instituted, with the result that her dog had been found dead not very far from the waterhole, but of her no trace remained. "my god, glanton," he ended up. "buck up, man. pull yourself together or you'll go clean off your chump. buck up, d'you hear!" i daresay i had a look that way, for i noticed tom staring at me as if he contemplated taking to his heels. "i'm on my way down there now," said kendrew. i nodded. i couldn't speak just then somehow. i went into the house, slung on a heavy revolver, and crammed a handful of cartridges into my pocket. then i remounted, kendrew doing likewise, and so we took our way down that rocky bush path at a pace that was neither wise nor safe. "is that all they have to go upon?" i said presently, as soon as i had recovered my voice. "that's all--i gather from the old man's note. i say, glanton, what can be behind it all? it seems on all fours with my old uncle taking himself off. i'm beginning to think now there's some infernal foul play going on among the niggers round us." i was thinking the same. at first a thought of dolf norbury had crossed my mind, but i dismissed it. ukozi was behind this, somewhere. the proximity to the waterhole associated him in my mind with the outrage. his beastly performance with the snake!--was he training it to seize human beings, in the furtherance of some devilish form of native superstition? oh, good heavens no! that wouldn't bear thinking about. but aida--my love--had disappeared--had disappeared even as hensley had. he had never been found; the mystery of his disappearance had never been solved. and she! had she been hideously and secretly done to death? oh god! i shall go mad! when we arrived, the major and falkner had just returned, and their horses were simply reeking. they had scoured the whole farm, but utterly without result. as for mrs sewin and edith their grief was pitiable--would have been only it was nothing by the side of mine. "how was the dog killed?" was my first question, ignoring all greeting. i had resolved to waste no time in grief. i had now pulled myself together, and was going to do all that man was capable of to find my loved one again. "that's the strange part of it," said falkner gruffly. "there's no wound of any kind about the beast, and he hasn't even been hit on the head, for his skull is quite smooth and unbroken. but, there he is--as dead as the traditional herring." "you didn't move him, did you?" "no. he's there still." "well let's go there. i may light on a clue." "you'd better not come, uncle," said falkner. "you're played out, for one thing, and there ought to be one man on the place with all this devilish mystery going about." "played out be damned, sir," retorted the major fiercely. "i'd tire you any day. i'm going." the dead dog was lying right in the path, just beyond where we had found the lost coin on that memorable day. the first thing i looked for were traces of a struggle, but if there had been any they were now completely obliterated by hoof marks and footmarks made by falkner and the major when they first made the discovery. "the dog died before sundown," i said, after a momentary examination. "how do you know that?" asked falkner. "because the ground underneath him is perfectly dry. if he had been killed or died later it wouldn't have been. it would have been damp with dew. look--ah!" the last exclamation was evoked by a curious circumstance as i moved the body of the dead animal. a strange odour greeted my nostrils. it was as the odour of death, and yet not altogether, and--it was the same that poisoned the air on the occasion of my horse refusing to go forward on that night at kendrew's, and again here, almost on this very spot three nights ago when we had come away from witnessing ukozi's uncanny performance at the pool. some dark villainy underlay this, and that the witch doctor was connected with it was borne in upon my mind without a doubt. i examined the dead dog long and carefully, but could read no clue as to the manner of his death, unless he had been poisoned, but this i thought unlikely. one thing was certain. never in life would he have allowed harm or violence to reach his mistress. poor arlo! at any other time i should have been moved to genuine grief for his loss; now that loss was not even felt. quickly, eagerly, i cast around for spoor, beyond the radius of the disturbed part of the ground. all in vain. no trace. no trampled grass or broken twig, or displaced leaf, absolutely nothing to afford a clue. the thing was incomprehensible. it was as if she had been caught up bodily into the air. the ground here was a gentle declivity, moderately studded with bush. it was not rocky nor rugged, and was entirely devoid of holes or caves into which anyone might fall. suddenly every drop of blood within me was set tingling. i had found a trace. where the ground was stony, just above the path i discovered an abrasion, as though a boot, with nail heads in the soles, had scraped it. it was very faint, but still--there was no mistaking it. it was a genuine spoor. and it led on and on, utterly undiscernible to the major or falkner, hardly visible to kendrew at times, but plain enough to me. and now hope beat high. we would find her. we had only to follow on this spoor which we had struck, and we would find her. heaven knew how, but still! we would find her. she might have met with an accident and be sorely in need of help, but--still we would find her, and this--even this--after the blank, awful realisation of her loss, akin, as it was, to the disappearance of hensley--contained relative comfort. the others were watching me with mingled anxiety and curiosity as, bent low over the ground, i followed these faint indications. the latter were tolerably perceptible now to a practised eye, though to no other, and i kept upon them steadily. then a ghastly fear smote me again upon the heart. the spoor was leading straight for the waterhole. what did it mean? she would not have gone there--voluntarily. after the spectacle we had witnessed that night nothing on earth would have induced her to revisit the uncanny place alone, even by daylight. yet the dreadful thought had already forced itself upon my mind, that there, if anywhere, would the mystery be solved. in silence, eager, intensified, we pursued our way; for the others would not speak lest they should distract my mind from its concentration. thus we came out upon the waterhole. the spoor had led us straight to the high brow of cliff overhanging the pool--the spot upon which we had all stood that afternoon when we had first seen the mysterious monster which had disturbed the water. and-- what was this? all the soil here, where it was not solid rock, had been swept with branches. there was the pattern in the dust, even if stray leaves and twigs scattered about had not gone towards showing that, beyond a doubt. the object was manifest--to efface all traces of a struggle. heavens! my brain seemed to be turning to mud with the drear despair of each fresh discovery. the witch doctor's promise to show the old man the mystery of the waterhole came back to my mind. i put together the words of _sibongo_ to the snake i had heard him chanting. ukozi had been preparing a way towards a sacrifice to his demon. he had accustomed the great python to seizing its victim as he brought it--and he had always brought it, so small, so insufficient, in the shape of the kid we had seen him give it, as to excite the appetite of the monster rather than to gratify it. he had been practising on major sewin's curiosity, so that when the time should be ripe he would bring him to the edge of the pool, where all unsuspecting he would be seized by the monster and never be seen or heard of again. and now, and now--this unspeakably horrible and revolting fate, instead of overtaking the old man, had overtaken aida, my love, the sun and paradise of my life, instead. she had been substituted for him, as the easier, possibly the more acceptable victim. but, ukozi! whatever might happen to me i would capture and revenge myself upon him in a manner which should out-do the vengeance of the most vindictive and cruel of his own countrymen. i would spend days and nights gloating over his agony, and afterwards it should be talked about with fear and shuddering among the whole population of the border--ay, and beyond it i would do it; how i knew not, but, i would do it. all hell was seething in my brain just then--all hell, as i thought of my love, in her daintiness and grace; the very embodiment of a refinement and an elevating influence that was almost--no, entirely--divine, sacrificed horribly to the revolting superstitions of these savages, whom i had hitherto regarded as equalling in manly virtues those who could boast of centuries of so-called civilisation at their backs. and yet--revenge--could it bring back to me my love--my sweet lost love? chapter twenty seven. the dive of the water rat. we stood there--we four--gazing into each other's livid faces. then the major broke down. sinking to the ground he covered his face with his hands and sobbed. i broke fiercely away. i could not stand for a moment doing nothing, so i set to work to go right round the pool and see if i could find any further trace. but the search was a vain one. "the next thing is, what are we going to do?" said falkner when we had rejoined them. "we don't propose to spend the rest of the day staring at each other like stuck pigs, i take it?" "we ought to drag the hole," i said, "but we haven't got the necessary appliances, nor even a draw net. can any of you think of some expedient?" "we might get a long pole, and splice a couple of meat-hooks to the end somehow," said falkner, "and probe about with that. only, the cursed hole is about a mile too deep for the longest pole to get anywhere near the bottom in the middle." "_amakosi_!" we started at the interruption. so intent had we been that not one of us had been aware of the approach of a fifth--and he a native. "ha, ivondwe!" i cried, recognising him. "what knowest thou of this, for i think thou couldst not have been far from this place at sundown yesterday?" he answered in english. "do the _amakosi_ think the young missis has got into the water?" "they do," i said, still keeping to the vernacular. "now, water rat, prove worthy of thy name. dive down, explore yon water to its furthest depths for her we seek. then shall thy reward be great." "that will i do, iqalaqala," he answered--greatly to my surprise i own, for i had been mocking him by reason of his name. "and the snake?" i said. "the snake that dwells in the pool. dost thou not fear it?" i had been keenly watching his face, and the wonder that came into it looked genuine. "why as to that," he answered, "and if there be a snake yet i fear it not. i will go." he stood looking down upon the water for a moment; he needed to lose no time in undressing, for save for his _mutya_ he was unclad. now he picked up two large stones and holding one in each hand, he poised himself at a point about ten feet above the surface. then he dived. down he went--straight down--and the water closed over him. we stood staring at the widening circles, but could see nothing beneath the surface. then it suddenly dawned upon us that he had been under water an abnormally long time. "he'll never come up again now," declared falkner. "no man living could stick under water all that time," he went on after a wait that seemed like an hour to us. "the beast has either got hold of him, or he's got stuck somehow and drowned. oh good lord!" for a black head shot up on the further side of the hole, and a couple of strokes bringing it and its owner to the brink, he proceeded calmly to climb out, showing no sign of any undue strain upon his powers of endurance. "thou art indeed well named, ivondwe," i said. "we thought the snake had got thee." "snake? i saw no snake," he answered. "but i will go down again. there is still one part which i left unsearched." he sat for a moment, then picked up two stones as before. he walked round to an even higher point above the water, and this time dived obliquely. "by jove, he must have come to grief now," said falkner. "why he's been a much longer time down." as we waited and still ivondwe did not reappear, the rest of us began to think that falkner was right. it seemed incredible that any man could remain under so long unless artificially supplied with air. then just as we had given him up ivondwe rose to the surface as before. this time he was panting somewhat, as well he might. "there is no one down there," he began, as soon as he had recovered breath. "no one?" "no one. all round the bottom did i go--and there was no one. _au_! it is fearsome down there in the gloom and the silence, and the great eels gliding about like snakes. but she whom you seek must be found elsewhere. not under that water is she." was he going on the native principle of telling you what you would most like to know? i wondered. then falkner began kicking off his boots. "here goes for a search on my own account," he said. "coming, glanton? if there's nothing to hurt him, there's nothing to hurt us. we'll try his dodge of holding a couple of stones. we'll get down further that way." ivondwe shook his head. "you will not get down at all," he said, in english. "i'll have a try at any rate. come along, glanton." i am at home in the water but not for any time under it. half the time spent by ivondwe down there would have been enough to drown me several times over. however i would make the attempt. the result was even as i expected. with all the will in the world i had not the power, and so far from getting to the bottom, i was forced to return to the surface almost immediately. falkner fared not much better. "it must be an awful depth," he said. "i couldn't even touch bottom, and i'm no slouch in the diving line." "where ought we to search, ivondwe?" i said in the vernacular, "for so far there is no more trace than that left by a bird in the air? it will mean large reward to any who should help to find her--yes, many cattle." "would that i might win such," he answered. then pointing with his stick, "lo, the _amapolise_." our horses began to snort and neigh, as the police patrol rode up. i recognised my former acquaintance, sergeant simcox, but the inspector in command of the troop was along. "i've just come from your house, major sewin," he said after a few words of sympathy, "and i left a couple of men there, so you need be under no apprehension by reason of your ladies being alone. now have you lighted upon any fresh clue?" "eh? what? clue?" echoed the old man dazedly. "no." so i took up the parable, telling how i had found spoor leading to the waterhole and that here it had stopped. i pointed out where the ground had been smoothed over as though to erase the traces of a struggle. "now," i concluded, "if you will come a little apart with me, i'll tell you something that seems to bolster up my theory with a vengeance." he looked at me somewhat strangely, i thought. but he agreed, and i put him in possession of the facts about ukozi in his relations with major sewin, and how aida had consulted me about them during my absence in zululand, bringing the story down to that last startling scene here on this very spot three nights ago. "well you ought to know something about native superstitions, mr glanton," he said. "yet this seems a strange one, and utterly without motive to boot." "i know enough about native superstitions to know that i know nothing," i answered. "i know this, that those exist which are not so much as suspected by white men, and produce actions which, as you say, seem utterly without motive." "if we could only lay claw on this witch doctor," he said, thoughtfully. "yes indeed. but he'll take uncommonly good care that we can't." "meanwhile i propose to arrest this boy on suspicion, for i find that he couldn't have been very far from where miss sewin was last seen, at the time." "ivondwe?" "that's his name. it may only be a coincidence mind--but you remember old hensley's disappearance?" "rather." "well this ivondwe was temporarily doing some cattle herding for hensley at the time, filling another man's place. it certainly is a coincidence that another mysterious disappearance should take place, and he right at hand again." "it certainly is," i agreed. "but ivondwe has been here for months, and i've known him for years. there isn't a native i've a higher opinion of." "for all that i'm going to arrest him. it can do no harm and may do a great deal of good. but first i'll ask him a few questions." inspector manvers was colonial born and could speak the native language fluently. i warned him of ivondwe's acquaintance with english in case he should say anything in an aside to me. to every question, ivondwe answered without hesitation. he had been looking after the cattle, yonder, over the rise, at the time, much too far off to have heard or seen anything. had he been near, the dog would have kept him off. the dog was always unfriendly towards him. "where is ukozi?" asked the inspector. the question was met by a deprecatory laugh. "where is the bird that flew over our heads a few hours ago?" asked ivondwe. "i would remind the chief of the _amapolise_ that the one question is as easy to answer as the other. a great _isanusi_ such as ukozi does not send men before him crying aloud his movements." "that we shall see," said the inspector. "meanwhile ivondwe, you are arrested and must go with us." "have i not searched the depths of yonder pool?" was ivondwe's unconcerned remark. "ask these." "well, you are a prisoner, and if you make any attempt to escape you will be shot without challenge." then turning to me. "now i think we had better continue our search down to the river bank. i need hardly tell you, mr glanton, how i sympathise with you, but we must not lose hope yet. people do strange and unaccountable things at times-- generally the last people in the world who would be likely to do them. we shall find miss sewin yet." "have you found hensley yet?" i said bitterly. he looked grave. the cases were too startlingly akin. "the old gentleman had better be persuaded to go home," he said, with a pitying glance at the major, who was sitting in a state of utter collapse. kendrew volunteered to effect this. he could join us afterwards, he said. for the remaining hours of daylight we searched, leaving not a square yard of ground uninvestigated for a radius of miles. but--we found nothing--not even the remotest trace or clue. i suppose, if i lived to be a thousand i should never forget the agony of that day. mile after mile of our patient and exhaustive search, and still--nothing. the sickening blank as we returned, obliged to give it up for that day, only to renew our efforts with the first glimmer of returning light! the moon rose, flooding down over the dim veldt. i recalled that last time when we two had wandered so happily over this very same ground. no presentiment had we then, no warning of mysterious danger hanging over us. how happy we had been--how secure in each other's love--and now! oh god! it was too much. "look here," i burst forth roughly. "what's the good of you people? yes, what the devil's the good of you? what do you draw your pay for anyway? if you had unearthed the secret of hensley's disappearance this one would never have come about. your whole force isn't worth a tinker's twopenny damn and the sooner it's disbanded and sent about its silly business the better." the police inspector was a thoroughly good fellow, and a gentleman. he didn't take any offence at this, for he knew and respected the agony i was undergoing. we were riding a little ahead of the patrol, and therefore were alone together. "look here, glanton," he said. "abuse us as much as ever you like and welcome if only it'll relieve your feelings. i don't resent it. you may be, in a measure, right as to hensley. we all thought--and you thought yourself if you remember--that the old chap had got off the rails somehow, in an ordinarily natural if mysterious way. but now i'm certain there's some devilish foul play going on, and the thing is to get to the bottom of it. now let's keep our heads, above all things, and get to the bottom of it. this is my idea. while we go on with our search to-morrow, you go and find tyingoza and enlist his aid. he's a very influential chief, and has a good reputation, moreover you're on first-rate terms with him. i believe he could help us if anybody could. what do you think?" "i have thought of that already," i answered gloomily. "but an _isanusi_ of ukozi's repute is more powerful than the most powerful chief--at any rate on this side of the river. still it's a stone not to be left unturned. i'll ride up the first thing in the morning. no, i'll go before. i'll start to-night." but i was not destined to do so. on returning to the house i found that both the major and his wife were in a state of complete prostration. they seemed to cling to the idea of my presence. it was of no use for me to point out to them that the police patrol was camped, so to say, right under their very windows, not to mention falkner and kendrew in the house itself. they would not hear of my leaving that night. edith, too, begged me to fall in with their wishes. a refusal might be dangerous to her father, she put it. utterly exasperated and amazed at the selfishness, as i deemed it, of the old people, i seemed to have run my head against a blank wall. "look here, edith," i said. "they are simply sacrificing aida by throwing obstacles in my way like this. what am i to do?" "this," she answered. "fall in with their wishes, till they are asleep. they will sleep, if only through sheer exhaustion, and if they don't i'll take care that they do, through another agency. then, carry out your own plan and god bless you in it." "god bless you, for the brave resourceful girl you are," i rejoined. "manvers and i have been knocking together a scheme, and nothing on god's earth is going to interfere with it. well, we'll make believe-- but, at midnight i'm off, no matter what happens." "that's right, glanton," said kendrew, who had entered with an opportuneness that under other and less interested circumstances i should have regarded as suspicious. "edith and i will take care of the old birds, never fear." utterly heartsick, and though unconsciously so, physically weary by reason of the awful strain of the last twelve hours, i only sought to be alone. i went into the room i always occupied and shut myself in. sleep? yes, i would welcome it, if only as a respite. i don't know whether it came or not. chapter twenty eight. what jan boom told. it seemed as though i had slept five minutes when i started wide awake, listening. there was a faint sound of scratching upon the window pane. then it ceased, to be followed by a succession of gentle taps. noiselessly i got out of bed, and drawing my revolver from its holster, stood listening once more. there was no mistake about it. somebody was trying to attract my attention. even then--in that tense moment, the drear anguish of yesterday surged like a wave through my mind; but, upon it a gleam of hope. what was this fresh mystery, for, of course, it was in some way connected with the suggestion of tragedy--with the mysterious disappearance of my love? there were no curtains, only blinds. softly, noiselessly, i slipped to the window and displaced one of these, just sufficiently to leave a crack to be able to see through. the moon was shining, bright and clear, and all in the front of the house was illuminated almost as though by daylight i made out a dark figure crouching under the window, and held the revolver clenched and ready as i put up the sash. "who?" i said, in the zulu. "_nkose_! it is i--jan boom." "yes. and what do you want?" "_nkose_! try and slip out of the house, unseen i want to talk. but others may be waking too. do it. it concerns her whom you seek." i knew the ways of a native in such a matter, wherefore without hesitation, i put up the window as noiselessly as i could, and was out in a moment. bearing in mind the strange and mysterious times upon which we had fallen i didn't leave the weapon behind me in the room either. "you are alone?" i said. "i am alone, _nkose_. come round behind the waggon shed--or, better still, into the openness of the bush itself. there can we hold our _indaba_." "good. now--lead on." as i walked behind the xosa, i was all aglow with eagerness. what had he discovered--or, had he discovered anything? could i trust him? i remembered my first dislike of him, and how it had faded. what could he know of this last outrage? what part had he borne in it, if any? and if none, how could he be of any assistance? "well, jan boom," i said when we were safe from possible interruption. "you know of course that the man who is the one to enable me to recover the _inkosikazi_ unharmed, will find himself in possession of sufficient cattle to purchase two new wives, with something to spare?" "i know it, _nkose_, and you--you also know what i said to you when i wanted to remain and work for you," he answered significantly. i did remember it. his words came back to me, though i had long since dismissed them from my mind. the plot was thickening. the xosa took a long and careful look round, and if my patience was strained to bursting point i knew enough of these people to know that you never get anything out of them by hurrying them. then he bent his head towards me and whispered: "if you follow my directions exactly you will recover the _inkosikazi_. if not you will never see her again." "never see her again?" i echoed with some idea of gaining time in order to collect myself. "has nyamaki ever been seen again?" said jan boom. "do you know where she is?" "i know where she will be to-morrow night." to-morrow night! and i had been expecting instant action. "look here," i said, seizing him by the shoulder with a grip that must have hurt. "has she been injured in any way? tell me. has she?" "not yet," he answered. "no--not yet. but--if you fail to find her, and take her from where she is, to-morrow night--she will die, and that not easily." this time he did wince under my grip. in my awful agony i seemed hardly to know what i was doing. the whole moonlit scene seemed to be whirling round with me. my love--in peril! in peril of some frightful and agonising form of death! oh heaven help me to keep my wits about me! some such idea must have communicated itself to the xosa's mind, for he said: "_nkose_ must keep cool. no man can do a difficult thing if his head is not cool." even then i noticed that he was looking at me with wonder tinged with concern. in ordinary matters--and some out of the ordinary--i was among the coolest headed of mortals. now i seemed quite thrown off my balance. somehow it never occurred to me to doubt the truth of jan boom's statement. "where is this place?" i asked. "that you will learn to-morrow night, _nkose_, for i myself will take you there--if you are cautious. if not--!" "look here, jan boom. you want to earn the cattle which i shall give as a reward?" "cattle are always good to have, _nkose_!" "well what other motive have you in helping me in this matter? you have not been very long with me, and i cannot recall any special reason why you should serve me outside of ordinary things." "be not too curious, _nkose_!" he answered, with a slight smile. "but, whether you fail or succeed to-morrow night, my life will be sought, for it will be known how you came there." "have no fear as to that, jan boom, for i will supply you with the means of defending your life six times over--and you, too, come of a warrior race." "that is so, _nkose_. i am of the ama gcaleka. now talk we of our plan. to-morrow you will return home, starting from here after the sun is at its highest. up to the time of starting you will help in the search in whatever direction it is made. but if you show any sign or give reason to suspect you know it is all being made in vain, it will mean the failure of our plan, and then--" "not on my account shall it fail then," i said. "tell me, jan boom. is ukozi at the back of this?" "his eyes and ears are everywhere," was the reply, accompanied by a significant glance around. "when you ride homeward to-morrow, your horse will be very lame." "very lame?" i echoed in astonishment. "very lame. you yourself will lame it. so shall ukozi's eyes be deceived. for a man who has just returned home does not ride forth immediately on a horse that is very lame." i saw his drift--and it was ingenious. "you will give out that you are tired of a useless search, that you are exhausted and intend to sleep for three days, and you will pretend to have drunk too much of the strong waters. so shall ukozi's eyes be deceived." "but jan boom, you and tom are the only people on the place," i urged. "u' tom? _hau_! ukozi's eyes and ears are everywhere," was the enigmatical answer. "and if my horse is lame how shall i use him?" "you would not use him in any case," was his answer. "the sound of a horse's hoof travels far at night, that of a man's foot, not. we walk." "walk? why then the place must be quite near." "quite near it is, iqalaqala," slipping into rather an unwarrantable familiarity in addressing me by my native name, but this didn't exercise me you may be sure. "quite near, but--nowhere near the snake pool. quite the other way. you will take the nephew of nyamaki with you." "ah! and--what of umsindo?" "ha! umsindo? he is a good fighting bull--but then he is a blundering bull. yet we will take him, for his strength will be useful. for, we will take ukozi alive." "that will not be easy, jan boom. and then--just think, how much easier it will be to kill him." "yet we will do it. we will take him alive. you were asking but now, _nkose_, what other motive i had in helping you," he answered, with a dash of significance. "ah!" "so we will take ukozi alive. is that to be?" "most certainly, if possible. but will it be possible? he is sure to fight. he will have people with him of course." "two, at the most. we had better take them alive too, if we can. it will make things worse for ukozi. but to no one living save to the two we have named will you by word or hint give knowledge of what i have told you. to do so will mean certain failure." i promised. "tell me now about this place, jan boom, and how you learned of its existence," i said, for now in my feverish impatience i would rather talk for the remainder of the night than go in to shut myself up with my thoughts throughout its hours of silence. "i will do better, _nkose_, i will show it you," he answered. "_whau_! if we succeed in what we are to do--and we must if the three of you only keep strictly to my directions--why then i may tell you; and with it a tale so strange that you, or other white people, will give it half belief or perhaps not any. now i must go. there is still some of the night left, and it is important that none should know we have talked or even that i have been away from isipanga. return as silently as you came, and to-morrow, well before the sun goes down ride up to the house on a very lame horse." "and with the other two?" "with the other two. _nkose_!" with which parting salute he was gone. i waited a little, listening. no sound disturbed the dead silence save here and there the ordinary voices of the night. then i regained my room. sleep was of course out of the question, and now i set to work deliberately to marshal my thoughts and bring them to bear on the situation. i felt no misgiving as to the xosa's good faith--the fact that he had agreed to my being accompanied by two tried and trusted comrades seemed to prove that. though had he stipulated that i should have gone alone, i should, while prepared for any emergency, unhesitatingly have accepted the conditions. again, the reward was quite enough to tempt a man of his courage, especially as he came of a totally different race, added to which the corner of curtain which he had just lifted was sufficient to show that he bore a grudge against the witch doctor, not to say a very pretty feud. how and why this should be, passed my understanding, but i knew enough of natives and their ways to know that i didn't know them, as, indeed, i believe no white man ever really does. and the motive of this outrage? clearly, it was due to some dark superstition, as i had suspected from the very first. she had not been injured up till now, would not be unless we failed to arrive in time. there was unspeakable comfort in this, for i felt confident the xosa was sure of his facts. but what stages of horror and despair must she not have passed through since her mysterious capture? well the villainous witch doctor should pay a heavy reckoning and those who had helped him; and, thinking of it, i, too, was all eagerness he should be taken alive; for a great many years of hard labour--perhaps with lashes thrown in-- which should be his reward, would be a far worse thing to him than a mere swift and easy death. then followed a reaction. what if jan boom had miscalculated and we arrived too late after all? a cold perspiration poured down me at the thought. "she will die, and that not easily," had been his words. that pointed to torture--oh good god! my innocent beautiful love! in the power of these fiends, and sacrificed to their hellish superstitions, and i helpless here! i seemed to be going mad. no. that wouldn't do. i was letting my imagination run away with me in the silence and the darkness, and above all i wanted cool-headedness and strength. i must make up my mind to believe the xosa's word and that all would yet be well. by this time the next night she would be with us again safe and sound. then i fell to wondering what sort of hiding-place could be found within a walk--an easy walk apparently--of my dwelling, and it baffled me. i could think of none. moreover the surroundings had been scoured in search of the missing hensley, and nothing of the kind had come to light. and then the first signs of dawn began to show, and i felt relieved, for now at any rate, one could be up and doing. chapter twenty nine. what we found. i have seen a good many astonished natives in my time but never a more astonished one than my boy tom that evening after supper, when staggering to my feet and lurching unsteadily i bade him in thick and indistinct accents to go into the store and fetch some new blankets for my two guests to sleep on. when on his return, i cursed him roundly, and threw an empty bottle at his head, taking good care however that it shouldn't hit him, then subsided on to the floor to all outward appearances in the last stage of helpless intoxication, poor tom must have thought the end of the world had come. this, of course, was part of the programme as drawn up between myself and jan boom. in every other particular i had scrupulously observed it even to the severe laming of my unfortunate horse. poor beast! but then what were the passing sufferings of a mere animal, when issues such as this were in the balance! i had got through the morning joining in the pretended search, and it was while thus engaged that i found an opportunity of imparting to the other two our plan of rescue. "by the lord!" exclaimed kendrew, "i never heard such an extraordinary thing in my life." "the thing is, can we swallow it?" was falkner's remark. "these niggers are such infernal liars." "well. i'm going to follow it up, even if i go alone," i said. "who the devil said you were going alone, glanton?" he answered gruffly. "look here, we rather hate each other, but you can't say that up there in zululand, for instance, i ever backed down." "certainly i can't, sewin," i said. "what i can say is that in any sort of scrap there's no man i'd rather have alongside than yourself. and as for hating each other, it's only natural you should hate me i suppose, but i've never returned the compliment." "well we'll knock hell out of someone to-night anyhow," he said. "now let's have all particulars of the scheme." i gave them, exactly as i had had them from jan boom. "the thing is to keep it up," i said. "that'll be the stiffest part of all--to keep it up. we mustn't go about looking as if we had found her already. native eyes and ears are sharp, and native deductions are swiftly drawn." this was agreed upon, and we continued our mock search more strenuously than ever. we dared not even let fall so much as a hint to the old people. pitiable as it was to witness their distress, yet it was better that this should continue a little longer rather than that our success should be imperilled, as certainly would have been the case had we let slip the slightest inkling that there was ground for hope. "has ivondwe made any revelation?" i asked the police inspector, later on as we were about to start. "not a word. would you like to talk to him, glanton? you might get something out of him." "not to-day. to-morrow perhaps. only keep him doubly guarded. he'll certainly escape if he can." "he'll be a bigger magician than ukozi if he does. he's handcuffed in a hut, with four of my men guarding him, two inside and two out. and the two out are just dead shots with rifle or pistol, although they do belong to the poor old police," he added meaningly. "all right. now i'm off to try and work the native intelligence department." "and i hope to god you may succeed," had been the fervent answer. "good-bye." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ so here we were, only awaiting our guide in order to set forth. the other two had also simulated inebriation, but only to a slight extent. we had a business-like revolver apiece and plenty of cartridges, but no guns. another significant item of our outfit comprised several strong, new _reims_. at last, after further waiting, which seemed an eternity, jan boom appeared. there was mirth lurking in his face as he explained that he had come over at tom's instance. tom should have come to see if anything more was wanted before he turned in for the night, but he was afraid. his master seemed bewitched, he declared. he and the other two white men were all drunk, but his master was the most drunk of all--yes, by far. his master drunk! at any other time we would have roared over the absurdity of the situation, and tom's very justifiable amazement. now jan boom was directed to tell him to turn in, and then come back. he came back, but took rather long about it. "now _amakosi_!" he said. "we will start, but no word must be spoken save in the faintest of whispers, and only then if it cannot be avoided." "what if tom should take into his head to come here again?" i asked. "he will not, _nkose_, i have tied him up so that he can neither move nor speak." "good," i said. the night seemed very dark as we set forth, for the moon had not yet risen, and the starlight was insufficient to render our march easy, as we followed the elastic stride of our silent guide. our excitement was intense, as we threaded the thickness of some bushy kloof by narrow game paths known to our guide and lit upon in the darkness with the unerring instinct of the savage. every now and then a rustle and patter, as something scurried away, and once some large animal, alarmed, started away with a sudden and tremendous crash which it seemed must have been heard for miles. not one of us dared break the xosa's enjoinment to strict silence, and thus we proceeded. how long this lasted we could only guess, but it seemed that we were hours traversing the interminable tortuousness of bushy ravines, or scaling the side of a slope with such care as not to disturb a single stone. at last jan boom came to a halt, and stood, listening intently. in the gloom we could make out nothing distinct. we were facing a dark mass of thick bush, with a rugged boulder here and there breaking through, as if it had fallen from a stunted krantz which crowned the slope not very much higher above. it took some straining of the eyes to grasp these details. when we looked again our guide had disappeared. "what does it mean, glanton?" whispered falkner. "what if this is another trap and we are going to be the next to disappear? well, we sha'n't do it so quietly, that's one thing." then through the silence came jan boom's voice, and--it seemed to come from right beneath our feet. "down here, _amakosi_. iqalaqala first." "down here?" yes--but where? then i saw what was a hole or cavity, seeming to pierce the blackness of a dense wall of bush. without a moment's hesitation i obeyed, and finding jan boom's outstretched hand i dropped into what was curiously like a sort of deep furrow. the others followed, and lo--something closed behind us. we were in pitch darkness, and a moist and earthy smell gave out a most uncomfortable suggestion of being buried alive. "now walk," whispered the xosa. "let each keep hold of the one in front of him. but--before all--silence!" in this way we advanced, jan boom leading, i keeping a hand on his shoulder, kendrew doing ditto as to mine, while falkner brought up the rear. the place was not a cave, for every now and again we could see a star or two glimmering high above. it seemed like a deep fissure or crevasse seaming the ground, but what on earth it was like above i had no idea. we walked lightly and on our toes in order to ensure silent progress. a few minutes of this and the xosa halted. the fissure had widened out, and now a puff of fresh air bore token that we were getting into the light of day, or rather of night, once more. nor were we sorry, for our subterranean progress was suggestive of snakes and all kinds of horrors. i, for one, knew by a certain feel in the air that we were approaching water. a little further and again we halted. a patch of stars overhead, and against it the black loom of what was probably a krantz or at any rate a high bluff. the murmur of running water, also sounding from overhead, at the same time smote upon our ears. it was getting lighter. the moon was rising at last, and as we strained our gaze through the thick bushy screen behind which we had halted, this is what we saw. we were looking down upon a circular pool whose surface reflected the twinkling of the stars. on three sides of it ran an amphitheatre of rock, varying from six to twenty feet in height. at the upper end where the water fell into it in a thin stream, the rock dipped to the form of a letter "v." all this we could make out in the dim light of the stars, for as yet the face of the rock was in dark shadow. and yet, and yet-- as i gazed i could descry a striking resemblance to our own waterhole except that this was more shut in. "remember," whispered the xosa, impressively. "there is to be no shooting. they are to be taken alive." we promised, wondering the while where "they" were. a tension of excitement, and eagerness for the coming struggle was upon all three of us. for me i rebelled against the agreement which should deter me from battering the life out of the black villains who had brought my darling to this horrible place. what terrors must she not have endured? what ghastly rites of devil worship were enacted here? foot by foot the light crept downwards, revealing the face of the rock as the moon rose higher and higher. then a violent nudge from falkner, at my side--but i had already seen. the water was pouring down upon the head of what had once been a human being. now it was a dreadful, glistening slimy thing, half worn away by the action of the running water. it was fixed in a crucified attitude, facing outwards, bound by the wrists to a thick pole which was stretched across horizontally from side to side of the pool, the feet resting upon a rock ledge beneath. it needed not the agonised stare upon that awful upturned face--or rather what once had been a face--to tell in what unspeakable torture this wretched being had died. to my mind and to falkner's came the recollection of our gruesome find that grey afternoon in the northern wilds of zululand. two more bodies, one little better than a skeleton, were bound similarly on each side of the central one. as we gazed, spellbound with horror, we saw that which pointed to one of these being the body of a white man. now a dark figure appeared on the brink above the central victim, appeared so silently and suddenly as to lend further horror to this demon haunted spot. we watched it in curdling horror as it stooped, then reached down and cut the thongs which held first one wrist then the other. the body thus released toppled heavily into the pool with a dull splash that echoed among the overhanging rocks. then it disappeared. the figure, straightened up now, stood watching the troubled surface for a moment. standing there full in the moonlight i thought to recognise the face. it was that of one of tyingoza's people whom i knew by sight, but could not fit with a name. then he turned to clamber back, crooning as he did so, a strange weird song. it was not very intelligible, but was full of _sibongo_ to the water spirit, who should now delight in a fresh victim, a rare victim, one by the side of which all former sacrifices were but poor. then would the land have rain again--would drink all the rain it needed. now the blood seemed to rush to my brain as though to burst it. a red mist came before my eyes, and my heart seemed to hammer within me as though it would betray our place of concealment without fail. for i realised who this new victim--this rare victim--was to be, the victim who was to take the place of the ghastly shapeless horror which we had seen disappear beneath that awful surface. a warning touch from jan boom brought me back to recollection and sanity again. through our concealing screen we saw the man who had released the corpse drop down the rock. another had joined him, and now the two crouched down in the shadow with an air of eager expectancy as though waiting for something or somebody. one held in his hand a coiled thong. then we heard voices, one a full, sonorous, male tone talking in the zulu; and another, rich, musical, feminine--and it i recognised with a tightening of the heart. both were approaching, in such wise as would bring the speakers almost within touch of us. and the two fiends, the one with the coiled thong, and the other, crouched--waiting. chapter thirty. the latest victim. there she stood--aida, my love. i could see every line of the sweet pale face, turned full towards me in the moonlight, but it wore a half-dazed look as that of one who walks and talks in her sleep. but it bore no sign of fear. "this is the third night, _inkosikazi_, and it is time to restore you to your own people," ukozi was saying. "you will tell them that we have not harmed you, but that your presence was necessary for three nights, to render perfect our _muti_." she looked as if she but half understood him, and nodded her head. they were but a few paces from us, and where they had emerged from we could not make out. their backs were toward the horrid remains, and also toward the two crouching figures. "so now we are ready. come." this was clearly a signal, for the two crouching figures sprang up and forward to seize her. the first went down like a felled bullock, under a judiciously planted whack from jan boom's knobkerrie as we leapt from our concealment. falkner had grappled with the witch doctor, but ukozi was a muscular and powerful savage, and it taxed all his younger foeman's athletic resources to hold him. he writhed and struggled, and the two were rolling over and over on the ground. then jan boom seizing his chance, let out again with his formidable knobkerrie, bringing it down bang in the middle of ukozi's skull. he, too, flattened out. the third, held at the point of kendrew's pistol, had already surrendered. "better tie them up sharp before they come to," said falkner. "here goes for mr witch doctor anyhow." all this had happened in a moment. in it i had borne no active part, my first care and attention had been given to aida. it was remarkable that she showed but little surprise at the sight of me. "is that you, dear? and you have come to take me home? i am rather relieved, for i was beginning to get a little frightened i believe. but--what is it all about? these people have done me no harm." "no--thank the lord and we four," said falkner grimly. "not yet, but we were only in the nick of time. there--you evil beast. you can come to now, as soon as you like." this to the fellow whom jan boom had first stunned and whom he had just finished tying up in the most masterly manner. the xosa had effected the same process with the third, under cover of kendrew's pistol. "don't look round, aida," i said. "there's a sight it'll be as well for you not to see. in fact i'll take you away as soon as jan boom is ready to show us the way out." but jan boom was apparently not ready. he stood glaring down upon the prostrate and unconscious witch doctor with an expression of vindictive hatred upon his countenance that was positively devilish. "not killed," he muttered in his own tongue. "no--no--not killed. that were too sweet and easy for him." "ha-ha, jan," guffawed falkner. "you were so keen on capturing the brute alive, and now you've killed him yourself." "he not dead," answered the xosa in english. "zulu nigga's skull damn hard. he come to directly." "well it wasn't much of a scrap anyway," grumbled falkner. "are there any more of them?" "only two women up there at the huts," said aida. "but i don't understand. they've done me no harm." "no, exactly. you don't understand, but we do," answered falkner grimly. "and, now, by the way, where are the said huts?" "up above there. you go by the way you saw me come in. through that passage." now we saw a narrow passage similar to the one we had entered by. it seemed to lead upward. "quite sure it's all there are?" he said. "yes. there are only a couple of huts there, and i don't think there's any way out, that side. oh--what is that?" the words came out in a sort of shriek. as ill luck would have it she had turned and caught sight of the remains of the other two victims. she covered her face with her hands. "oh take me out of this horrible place. now i begin to see," and she shivered all over. "be brave now, darling," i whispered. "we will go at once. i didn't want you to see that, but--it's only a way they have of burying their dead," i added under a swift inspiration that a lie of that sort was highly expedient, and even then i don't think she more than half believed me. jan boom the while, together with kendrew, had been acting in a thoroughly practical manner, by way of rendering the situation more secure. they had tied the three prisoners together by the leg, in addition to their other bonds, and this was as well, for the pair who had been stunned were showing signs of returning consciousness. then we held a council of war. it was arranged that jan boom was to return with aida and myself to my place, thence he was to take one of the horses and ride straight on to major sewin's and return with the police. the while kendrew and falkner would remain, and mount guard over the prisoners. "mind you sing out loud enough when you come back, jan," said falkner meaningly. "because we are going to blow the head off the very first nigger that happens to poke his nose in upon us through either of those holes, and that without warning too." the xosa grinned broadly. "no fear, i'll sing out, sir," he said in english. "but you look after ukozi. witch doctor damn smart nigga. plaps he get away." "if he does he's welcome to," rejoined falkner, poking the muzzle of his pistol against the shaven head of the principal prisoner, who having now recovered consciousness was staring stupidly about him. "eh, my buck? but we won't cheat the hangman in your case, no fear." i was unspeakably glad on aida's account, to find ourselves through the horrid tunnel-like way by which we had entered, and out in the wholesome night air again. she seemed none the worse for her adventures, and was wonderfully plucky. she never could feel anything but safe with me, she declared. the way was much easier now in the clear moonlight than when we had come, under the light of the stars, and as we walked she told me as well as she was able, what had befallen her on the afternoon of her solitary walk. when i chided her for undertaking a solitary walk she answered that she could not imagine harm overtaking her with so powerful a protector as arlo. "i don't know why," she went on, "but i felt a half unconscious inclination to go over that way we came together that evening before you went. suddenly i discovered that arlo was no longer with me. i called him but he didn't come. this was strange, so i turned back, still calling him. then i saw him lying as if he was dead, and bending over him were two natives. they started up at the sound of my voice, and i recognised ivondwe and the witch doctor." "ivondwe? ah!" i interrupted, for a new light had now struck me. "yes. go on." "they called to me to come--and i advanced, dreadfully concerned about poor arlo, and then i don't know how it was, whether some instinct warned me, or whether it was a look i saw pass between them, but--i acted like an idiot. i turned and ran. you see, i lost my head completely." for answer i pressed the hand that rested on my arm closer to my side. "well, and what then?" i said. "as soon as i began to run they came after me. as i say--i had lost my head completely, and hardly knew where i was going. then, suddenly, i found myself on the brink of the waterhole; in fact i had nearly fallen into it. i turned, and the two were right upon me. `why had i run away?' they asked. `there was surely nothing to be afraid of. surely i knew them both well enough. my dog was lying there dead and they had been trying to see what they could do for him.' "i was unaccountably frightened, and dreadfully out of breath after the run. i felt half faint. then just as i began to think i had behaved like a fool something was thrown over my head from behind, something that seemed saturated with some particularly overpowering and nauseous drug. then i became unconscious, and only recovered when i found myself at the place we have just come from--or rather in a small kraal in a hollow just above it." "and you have been there all the time. aida, you are sure they have not injured you?" "oh yes. on the contrary they were quite deferential, the witch doctor especially. he told me my presence was necessary for a certain time on account of an important rain-making ceremony he was engaged in. after that i should be taken home again. well i thought it advisable to make a virtue of necessity, and conciliate them. i even began to enter into the adventure of the thing, and supposed i was going to witness some quaint and rare native superstition. another thing. the drug that at first overpowered me had left a strange effect--i believe it is a little upon me still. it was a sort of half drowsy apathetic feeling, as if it was too much trouble to think about anything. the women there took care of me, great care; they were ukozi's wives they said. well, this evening he came to me and said the moon was right, and with my help, he had accomplished all he wanted, and it would soon rain abundantly. the time had come to take me home and he would guide me there. do you know, he can talk english quite well?" "no--by jove i didn't. he's kept it remarkably dark hitherto. yet he wasn't talking english when you appeared." "no he wasn't. i've got to understand them rather well by this time. well, then you all burst out upon us and here i am." "thank god for that!" i said fervently. "there's another, too, of whom the same holds good, jan boom here." the xosa, who was walking a little ahead of us, paused at the sound of his name and waited for us. "_nkose_," he said, speaking in the vernacular. "did you promise to tell me before three moons were dead, whether you were sorry you had kept me in your service or not?" "that i did, jan boom, and you know the answer. nor will you find me forgetful--_impela_!" "_nkose_!" he ejaculated and walked on. "i have yet to get the whole mystery out of him," i said in a low tone, "but for that i must wait his own time." there was another "time" for which i meant to wait. not yet would i reveal to aida the horrible fate to which the repulsive superstition of the witch doctor had consigned her. that she would learn in due course. at present i wanted her to recover completely from the effects of her experience. it was close upon dawn when we reached my place, and as i attended to the refreshment and comfort of my love, after her trying and perilous experience, it was as a foretaste of the future. her people would be here as soon as they could possibly arrive, meanwhile she was under my care. and she needed sleep. tom, now cut loose from his night's bonds, but none the worse, came up looking very sulky and foolish, and muttering vengeance against the xosa, who for his part cared not a straw for such. a judicious present however soon altered that mood, and i believe he would have been quite willing to undergo the same treatment over again on the same terms, and bustled about making himself generally useful with renewed zest. ah, how fair arose that morning's dawn. all that i held precious--my whole world as it were--lay peacefully sleeping within that hut, and while i kept guard outside, half fearing lest again that priceless gem should be stolen from its casket, an overwhelming rush of intense thankfulness surged deep through my heart. what had i done--what could i ever do--to deserve such a gift, now valued, if possible, a hundredfold by reason of the awful agony and blank of a temporary loss? far down in the river-bed lay waves of fleecy mist, and the rising sun gilded the heights with his early splendour. birds piped and flashed among the dewy bush sprays, and the low of cattle and bark of a dog from a distant kraal floated upward. all was fair and bright and peaceful-- and within--my love still slept on, serene, quiet, secure. chapter thirty one. the brotherhood of the dew. aida looked none the worse for her adventures as she came forth into the clear freshness of the morning. the lethargic effect of the drug seemed to have left her entirely, and she was quite her old self, bright, sunny, fascinating as ever. but scarcely had we begun to talk than we saw three persons approaching on horseback. "they haven't lost much time coming for you," i said, as i made out the rest of the family. "and i wanted you all to myself a little longer." "you mustn't say that, dear," she answered, with a return pressure from the hand i was holding. "they are perhaps just a little bit fond of me too." "hallo, glanton," sung out the major, breathless with excitement, as he rode up. "what the dickens is this cock and bull yarn your fellow has been spinning us. i can't make head or tail of it and i didn't stop to try. anyhow, there's my little girl again all safe and sound. she is safe and sound? eh?" "absolutely, father," answered aida, for herself. and then there was a good deal of bugging and kissing all round, and some crying; by the way, it seems that the women, dear creatures, can't be brought to consider any ceremony complete unless they turn on the hose; for they turn it on when they're happy, just as readily as when they're not. for instance-- there we were, all jolly together again--what the deuce was there to cry about? yet cry they did. i had breakfast set out in the open on the shady side of the store, with the broad view of the zulu country lying beneath in the distance, and they declared it reminded them of that memorable time when the _contre temps_ as to tyingoza's head-ring had befallen. and then when aida had given her adventures once more in detail, through sheer reaction we were all intensely happy after the dreadful suspense and gloom of the last three days. at length it was i who proposed we should make a move down, for it would be as well to be on hand when the others returned with the police and the prisoners. "by jove, glanton, but you were right when you advised me to have nothing to do with that rascally witch doctor," said the major, as we rode along. "one consolation. i suppose he's bound to be hung. eh?" "that depends on how we work the case," i said. "and it'll take a great deal of working." hardly had we returned than the others arrived, bringing the three prisoners, and two more in the shape of the women of whom aida had told us. these however were kept entirely separate from ukozi and his companions. no conversation between them was allowed. ukozi was sullen and impassive, but the younger prisoners glared around with a savage scowl which deepened as it rested on falkner. he for response only grinned. "all right my bucks," he said. "there's a rope and a long drop sticking out for you. by george, but this has been a ripping bit of fun for one night." "that's all right," i said rather shortly. "but you might remember that the reason for it hasn't been fun by any means." "no, not for you, that's understood," he sneered, turning away, for he was still more than a little sore over my success. "glanton, i've something devilish rum to tell you." the speaker was kendrew. "come out of the crowd," he went on. "yes, it just is rum, and it gave me a turn, i can tell you. first of all, that nest of murderers we tumbled into, is bang on the edge of--if not within--my own place. yes, it is my own place now--beyond a shadow of doubt. for we've unearthed something there." "you don't mean--" i began, beginning to get an inkling. he nodded. "yes, i do. the furthest of those two poor devils stuck up there against the rock--ugh!--was poor old hensley--my old uncle." "good lord!" "yes indeed. i was able to identify him by several things--ugh, but it wasn't a nice job, you understand. but the mystery is not how he couldn't be found at the time, but how the deuce such a neat little devil hole could exist on the place at all, unknown to any of us. why, you can't get in--or out of it--at all from the top, only through the hole we slipped in by. it's like a false bottom to a box by jove. yes--it's rum how such a place could exist." i thought so too. so now poor old hensley's disappearance stood explained; and the explanation was pitiable. he had been beguiled--or forcibly brought--to the hell pit of cruelty where these demons performed the dark rites of some secret superstition, and there horribly done to death by the water torture. when i thought of the one who had been destined to succeed him, and who by the mercy of providence had been snatched from their fiendish hands just in the nick of time, a sort of "seeing red" feeling came over me, and had they been in my power, i could have massacred all four of the prisoners with my own hand. "let's see if we can get anything out of them, kendrew," i said. "manvers won't mind." but inspector manvers did mind--at first. then he agreed. they would be started off for the police camp that night; however, as they were here we could talk to them. we might just as well have saved ourselves the trouble. ivondwe, who had been kept apart from the others, smiled sweetly and wondered what all the bother was about. he could not imagine why he had been seized and tied up. however that would soon come right. government was his father, but it had made a mistake. however he, as its child, could not complain even if his father had made a mistake. it would all come right. the witch doctor simply refused to speak at all, but the young men jeered. one of these i seemed to recognise. "surely i have seen thee before?" i said. "where?" "_kwa 'sipanga_?" "i remember. atyisayo is thy name. `hot water.' and i warned thee not to get into any more hot water--as the whites say." he laughed at this--but evilly, and no further word could i get out of either of them. but if they would reveal nothing there was another who would, and that was jan boom. him i had refrained from questioning until we should be all quiet again. the police, with the exception of three men, who had been detailed to remain on the spot and keep their eyes and ears open, started off that same evening with their prisoners. later, jan boom came to the house and gave me to understand he had something to tell me. the family had just gone to bed, and kendrew and i were sitting out on the stoep smoking a last pipe. "_nkose_, the time has now come," he said, "to tell you what will sound strange to your ears. i would not tell it before, no, not till the _amapolise_ had gone. the _amapolise_ are too fond of asking many questions--foolish questions--asking them, too, as if they thought you were trying to throw sand in their eyes when all the time you are trying to help them. now is that encouraging to one who would help them?" i readily admitted that it was not. "so now, _nkose_, if you will come forth with me where we shall not be heard--yes, the nephew of nyamaki may come, too--for my tale is not for all ears, you shall hear it." we needed no second invitation. as we followed him i could not but call to mind, in deep and thankful contrast, his revelation of two nights ago--made in the same way and on the same spot. "you will have heard, _amakosi_," he began, "of the tribe called amazolo, or the people of the dew, which flourished in natal before tshaka's impis drove the tribes of that land into the mountains or the sea. "it was out of this tribe that the principal rainmakers came. so sure and successful were they in making rain that they were always in request. even tshaka, the great, came to hear of them, and was never without some of them at his great place, dukuza, but as to these, well-- he was ever sending for a fresh supply. but he, that elephant, and dingane after him, protected the amazolo, so that they became looked up to and respected among all peoples. "now luluzela, the chief of that tribe, was jealous of the first rain-making doctor, kukuleyo, for it had come to this--that luluzela was chief of the amazolo but kukuleyo was chief of him. so luluzela waited patiently and watched his chances, for he dare not strike the rain doctor openly because dingane favoured him, and had anything happened to him would soon have demanded to know the reason why. one day accordingly, knowing some of the mysteries himself, he ordered kukuleyo to bring rain. the cattle were dying for want of water, and the crops were parched. the people would soon be dying too. but kukuleyo answered that the moment was not propitious; that anything he did then would anger the _izituta_ instead of propitiating them, and that when the time was right a sacrifice must be offered; not of cattle but of something quite beyond the ordinary. the chief jeered at this, but said the rain doctors might offer any sacrifice they chose." "`any sacrifice they chose?'" echoed kukuleyo with emphasis. "yes. any sacrifice they chose," repeated the chief, angry and sneering. but if rain did not come within a certain time why then kukuleyo and all those who helped him should suffer the fate which had always been that of impostors. "soon after this, clouds began to gather in the heavens, and to spread and fly like vultures when they scent death afar. in a roaring thunder-rush they broke, and the land, all parched and cracked and gaping, ran off the water in floods. there was rejoicing, and yet not, for it had all come too quickly and violently, washing away and drowning the cattle which it should have restored to life, and covering the cornlands with thick layers of unfruitful sand. the people murmured against kukuleyo and his rainmakers, the chief waxed fierce, and threatened. but his answer was firm and quiet. `lo, i have brought you rain.' "still, good followed, for when the worst had passed the worst, and the water was run off, the land was green again, and all things grew and thrived and fattened. but--then followed consternation on other grounds. the chief's son, bacaza, had disappeared. "he had disappeared, suddenly and in mystery. no trace was left. he might have gone into empty air. at first luluzela was angry, then alarmed. he sent for kukuleyo. "but the rain doctor's face was like rock. what had he to do with the disappearance of people? he said. he was a rainmaker. he was not trained in unfolding mysteries. the chief of the amazolo had better send for an _isanusi_ if he wanted this one unfolded. "and then, _amakosi_, a discovery was made. bacaza, the son of the chief was found--what was left of him that is. he was spread out beneath the falling water above a lonely pool, and was so arranged that the constant flow of water falling upon the back of his head and neck, slowly wore him to death. but it took days of awful agony such as no words could tell." "how do you know that, jan boom?" i said, moved to an uneasiness of horror by the vivid way in which the xosa was telling his story, for his eyes rolled and he passed his hand quickly over his face to wipe off the beads of perspiration. clearly the recollection was a real and a terrible one to him. "i know it, because i have been through it," he answered. "for a whole night, and part of a day i have been through it. _hau_! it is not a thing to look back to, _amakosi_. but let me tell my tale. when luluzela heard what had been done he sent for kukuleyo, intending to put him and his rainmakers to a slow and lingering death by fire. but kukuleyo was no fool. he appeared armed, and with a great force at his back, so that that plan could not be carried out. for some time they looked at each other like two bulls across a kraal fence, then kukuleyo said:-- "`did not the chief of the amazolo bid us offer any sacrifice we pleased, in order to obtain the desired rain?' "`eh-he, any sacrifice we pleased,' echoed his followers, clamorously. "`why then, have i not taken the chief at his word?' went on kukuleyo, defiantly. `nothing less than his son would satisfy the _izituta_, and his son have we offered. and--has it not rained? ah! ah! "any sacrifice we pleased," was the word,' he went on mockingly. `the word of the chief.' "but luluzela did not wait to hear more. with a roar of rage, he and those that were with him, hurled themselves upon the rainmakers. but these had come prepared, and had a goodly following too, all armed, many who were dissatisfied with luluzela's rule--where is there a chief without some dissatisfied adherents?--and who had benefited by the rain. then there was a great fight, and in it the chief was slain, but kukuleyo came out without a scratch. this led to other fighting, and the tribe was broken up, some wandering one way, some another. but ever since then the amazolo have been in request. the scattered remnants thus drifted, but whenever a severe drought occurred some of them were sure to be found. with them they took the tradition of the sacrifice of luluzela's son." "but," i said. "do they sacrifice someone every time rain is wanted?" "not every time, _nkose_. still it is done, and that to a greater extent than you white people have any idea of. and it would have continued to be done if ukozi had not conceived the idea of turning to white people for his victims. hence the disappearance of nyamaki. this time it was intended to seize umsindo, but he is a great fighting bull, and would not only have injured others, but would most certainly have got injured himself; and it is essential that the victim who is put through _ukuconsa_ as it is called, shall be entirely uninjured. so they chose the _inkosikazi_ instead." "but, jan boom," put in kendrew. "how on earth did they manage, in the case of my uncle, to spirit him away as they did--and leave no trace?" "that i cannot tell you, _nkose_. you must get that from ukozi, if he will tell." "here is another thing," i said. "even if ukozi belongs to this tribe, atyisayo and ivondwe do not. they are of tyingoza's people." "that is true, _nkose_. but the thing is no longer confined to the amazolo. it has become a close and secret brotherhood, and all may belong. they are called _abangan 'ema zolweni_, the comrades--or brotherhood--of the dew. and--it is everywhere. you remember what we found in majendwa's country? well that was a victim of _ukuconsa_ and it surprised me, because i had not thought the custom had found its way into zululand." "and what of the pool here, and the big serpent, and ukozi feeding it with the kid?" i asked, for i had already told him about this. "the snake embodies the water spirit," he said. "it is customary to feed such with offerings." "was there then a snake in the other pool which we found?" i asked, feeling a creepy, shuddering horror run through me at the thought of the indescribably ghastly fate which had hung over my darling and from which we had only just been in time to save her, thanks to the shrewd promptitude of this staunch fellow, whom i had begun by disliking and mistrusting. "that i cannot say, _nkose_. but i think not. the water torture goes on for days, and the victim is left just as he is until he falls off or room is made for a fresh one, as we saw them so make it there." "but you. how was it you were doomed to it, and how did you escape?" asked kendrew. "that is a long story, and it will i tell another time. i was living in pondoland then, not far on the other side of the umtavuna. ukozi did that, but now i shall have revenge. tell me, _amakosi_, will not your people have him lashed before they hang him? if so i should like to see that." it was little wonder that this savage should give way to the intensity of his vindictive feeling. we white men both felt that mere hanging was too good for these fiends. but we were obliged to assure him that such was very unlikely. "when we returned from the zulu country," he went on, "i began to put things together. i remembered what we had found up there, and what with ukozi being in these parts and the sudden disappearance of nyamaki, a little while before, i felt sure that the brotherhood of the dew was at work. i asked you to keep me with you, _nkose_, because i saw my way now, by striking at it, to revenge myself upon ukozi for the torture he had made me undergo. _whau_! and it is torture! that of the fire cannot be worse. i knew that the brotherhood would be strong, because among the people here there are so many names that have to do with water--from tyingoza and his son downwards--" i started. yes, it was even as he said. there were many names of just that description. but tyingoza! could that open-mannered, straightforward chief for whom i had always entertained the highest regard, really be one of that black, devilish murder society! "moreover," he went on, "i knew whence they would draw their next victim. i, too, have eyes and ears, _nkose_, as well as yourself," he said, with a whimsical laugh, "and i used them. the _abangan 'ema zolweni_ were strong in numbers, but otherwise weak. their brethren were too young and--they talked--ah--ah--they talked. hence i was able to follow atyisayo to where i guided you. the rest was easy." "well, jan boom," i said seeing he had finished his story. "you will find you have done the very best day's work for yourself as well as for others that you ever did in your life." "_nkose_ is my father," he answered with a smile. "i am in his hands." neither kendrew nor i said much as we returned to the house. this hideous tale of a deep and secret superstition, with its murderous results, existent right in our midst, was too strange, too startling, and yet, every word of it bore infinite evidence of truth. well, it proved what i have more than once stated, that no white man ever gets to the bottom of a native's innermost ways, however much he may think he does. chapter thirty two. the last penalty. inspector manvers was a shrewd as well as a smart officer, and it was not long before he had obtained from the two frightened women who had been made prisoners, sufficient information to warrant him in making several additional arrests. these, which were effected cleverly and quietly, included no less a personage than ivuzamanzi, the son of tyingoza. this would have astonished me, i own, but for jan boom's narrative; besides after the defection of ivondwe i was prepared to be astonished at nothing. an exhaustive search was made of the gruesome den of death, and in the result the identity of poor hensley was established beyond a doubt, as his nephew had said. the police spared no pains. they dragged the bottom of the waterhole with grappling hooks, and brought up a quantity of human bones, and old tatters of rotted clothing. it was obvious that quite a number of persons had been done to death here. "the _abangan 'ema zolweni_ were strong in numbers but otherwise weak. their brethren were too young, and--they talked." such had been jan boom's dictum, and now events combined to bear it out. two of the younger prisoners, fearing for their lives, confessed. this example was followed by others, and soon ample evidence was available to draw the web tight round the witch doctor, ivondwe, ivuzamanzi and atyisayo, as prime movers in the whole diabolical cult. and then, that there could be no further room for doubt, ukozi himself confessed. i own that i was somewhat astonished at this. but since his incarceration the witch doctor's spirit seemed completely to fail him, which was strange; for a native, especially one of his age and standing, does not, as a rule, fear death. but fear, abject and unmistakable, had now taken hold of this one. he trembled and muttered, and at times it seemed as if his mind would give way. then he declared his willingness to make a statement. perhaps his life would be spared. but he was given to understand he need entertain no hopes of that kind if he should be convicted at the trial. even then he persisted. he wanted to throw off the load, he said, for it lay heavy on his heart. his statement was consistent with that of all the others, moreover it tallied with all that jan boom had told me. the part of it that was peculiar was the manner in which they had been able to remove their victims so as to leave no trace. this had been done by means of muffled shoes. the drug administered had the effect of putting them into a kind of trance. they had all their faculties about them, save only that of volition, but afterwards they would remember nothing. nyamaki had been easily removed because he lived alone. he, like major sewin, the witch doctor had gradually imbued with a taste for the occult. after that all was easy. it had at first been intended to entrap the major, then his nephew, but for the reasons that jan boom had already given me, this plan was abandoned. then it was decided to seize his eldest daughter. such a sacrifice as that could not fail to move the spirit of the dew, and to bring abundant rain. no, she had in no way been injured. to have injured her would have been to have rendered the whole rite invalid. as for ivondwe, he had gone to the major's with the object of forwarding the plan when it was ripe. he was almost as great among the brethren of the dew as ukozi himself. ivuzamanzi? yes, he, too, was among the foremost of them. tyingoza belonged to the brotherhood, but he had been enrolled unwillingly, and had never taken part in any of their deeper mysteries: nor indeed, did they come within his knowledge. thus ran ukozi's confession. when it was read out at the trial it created a profound sensation, as, indeed, did the whole case in the columns of the colonial press, which clamoured for a signal example to be made of the offenders. and the court by which they were tried was of the same opinion. when those who had turned queen's evidence had been sifted out--of course with the exception of ukozi--there was still a round dozen for trial. the court-house at grey town was crammed. natives especially, had mustered in crowds, but so far from there being any turbulence, or tendency to rescue, these were, if anything, considerably awed by the very circumstances of the case itself. most of them indeed had never heard of the _abangan 'ema zolweni_, and a new and stimulating matter of discussion was thus supplied to them. the confession of ukozi, and of the others of course went far to simplify the trial. still, the fairness and impartiality for which british jurisprudence is famous, was fully extended to the accused. i personally can bear witness to a good hour in the box, most of which was spent in cross-examination for the defence. the same held good of kendrew and falkner, the latter of whom by the way, drew down upon himself some very nasty remarks from the bench, by reason of having stated in answer to a question as to whether he had not expressed a wish to see these men hanged--that he would cheerfully see every nigger in natal hanged if he had his way, and they had their deserts. but he didn't care. as he confided to me afterwards, what did it matter what an old fool in a gown said when he knew he couldn't have his head punched for saying it. aida, too, was called upon to go through the ordeal, and of course she did it well. in fact a murmur of appreciation ran through the native section of the audience when she emphatically agreed with the defending counsel's suggestion, in cross-examination, that she had not been ill-treated in any way. there was, too, a great cloud of native witnesses. jan boom, in particular, had a long and trying time of it, but the xosa was a man of parts, and a good bit of a lawyer himself in his way. there was no shaking his evidence on any one single point. thus, as i have said, in spite of his confession, ukozi and his fellow accused were given every chance. the indictment, so far, was confined to the murder of hensley. had it broken down--which of course was inconceivable--the prisoners would have been re-indicted for the murder of the native victims, of two, at any rate, whose identity could have been easily established. failing necessity, for the sake of their relatives, in view of possible danger involved to these, it was not deemed expedient to include them in the formal ground of indictment. the verdict of course, could only be "guilty." the four--viz. ukozi, ivuzamanzi, ivondwe and atyisayo--were brought in as principals--the others as accessories--some before, some after the fact. never shall i forget the scene in court, as they were asked whether they had anything to say why sentence of death should not be passed upon them. it was just sundown, and an angry storm had been raging outside for fully an hour. growling, cracking peals of thunder had interrupted the judge's summing up, and now, during a lull, the glare of a wet sunset came in through the windows, and a few heavy drops of rain still fell like stones on the corrugated iron roof during the tense silence. they stood in the dock those twelve dark figures, some leaning eagerly forward over the rail, their eyeballs protruding in the climax of the moment's excitement, others impassive and statuesque. amid the public was a subdued, hush. the native public especially seemed turned to stone. in answer to the appeal the bulk of the prisoners shook their heads. they had nothing to say, they declared, and then subsided into stolid silence. but when it came to the turn of ivondwe, he harangued the court at some length. the white man, he said, professed to be the protector and tolerator of all religions. now this, for which they stood there, was part of the black man's religion--or at any rate a section of it. why then, was not that tolerated too? ivuzamanzi, when it came to his turn, answered with heat, that he was the son of a chief--that he was a zulu of the tribe of umtetwa; that he cared nothing for a set of preaching whites and their stupid laws; that he only wished he had crossed the river long ago, and gone to _konza_ to cetywayo. there he would have been in a warrior land where the head-ring of his father and chief could not have been insulted with impunity by a swaggering _igcwane_ like the one who sat yonder--pointing to falkner-- who, however, perhaps fortunately, didn't understand what was being said until the interpreter had rendered it, and then it was too late to kick up a row. then he might have joined one day in driving the whites into the sea, where sooner or later they would all be driven. he was the son of a chief and could die like one. he was not going to lie down and howl for mercy like a miserable cheat of an _isanusi_. this with a savage glare at ukozi. the latter said not much. he had confessed. he had done what he could to put right what had been done. his life was in the hands of the government. the judge drew on the black cap, and proceeded to pass formal sentence. the twelve prisoners before him, he said, after a long and painstaking trial extending over several days, had been convicted of the most heinous crime known to the law, that of murder, the penalty of which was death. they had only been indicted for, and found guilty of one murder, but there was ample evidence that many others had lain at their door. this murder then, was the outcome of one of the vilest, most benighted forms of superstition that had ever disgraced our common humanity, whether black or white. as for urging, as one of the prisoners had done, that such murder was part of the black man's religion--or anybody's religion--why he could only say that such a statement was a slander upon the honest, straightforward, native population of the colony, of whose good and trustworthy qualities he personally had had many years of experience. it was a relic of the blackest and most benighted days of past heathenism, and it was clear that a bold attempt had been made on the part of the prisoner ukozi, to revive and spread it in the midst of a peaceful and law-abiding native population living contentedly under the queen's rule and under the queen's laws. once these terrible superstitions--and their outcome of foul and mysterious murder--took root, there was no seeing where they would end, therefore it was providential that this wicked and horrible conspiracy against the lives of their fellow subjects had been brought to light, and he would especially urge, and solemnly warn, his native hearers present in court to set their faces resolutely against anything of the kind in their midst. not for one moment would it be tolerated, nor would any plea of custom, or such a travesty of the sacred name of religion, as had been brought forward by one of the prisoners, be even so much as considered in mitigation of the just doom meted out by the law to all who should be found guilty of such an offence. sentence of death was then formally passed upon the whole dozen. there were many influential natives among the audience in court. these, i could see, were impressed, and in the right direction, moreover i gathered from their comments, which i overheard as they dispersed, that to many of them the existence of the brotherhood of the dew came as a revelation. and the comments were diverse and instructive. "_au_!" one man remarked. "there is but one among the twelve who wears the head-ring, and he is the one that shows fear." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the death sentence in the case of all but three was subsequently commuted to various terms of imprisonment. those three were ukozi, ivondwe and ivuzamanzi. as for the latter, tyingoza had got up a large deputation to the governor, begging that his son's life should be spared, but without avail. ivuzamanzi had taken an active part in this new outlet of a destructive superstition, and it was felt that as the son of an influential chief, he of all others should be made an example of. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ i don't know how it was--call it morbid curiosity if you like--but anyhow i was there when these three paid the last penalty. i had visited them in the gaol once. ivondwe had talked as if nothing had happened, about old times and what not. the witch doctor was cowering and piteous. could _i_ do nothing to save him. he would remember it to the end of his days, and would tell me many things that would be useful to me. i told him plainly i could do nothing, but in consideration did not add that i would not if i could, for if ever miscreant deserved his fate he did. i gave them some tobacco however, poor wretches, and that was all i could do for them. ivuzamanzi was stormily abusive, so i did not waste time over him. yet for him, i felt pity, as one led away, and--was not he the son of my old friend? it had been decided that the execution should, contrary to custom, be a public one. it was reckoned that the opportunity would be a good one for striking terror among the natives, as an example of the fate that would certainly overtake, sooner or later, all who should indulge in similar practices. rightly it was argued that a terrible superstition of this nature, fostered by a secret society and finding its logical outcome in barbarous and abominable forms of murder, needed to be sternly stamped out. on a grey and cloudy morning ukozi, ivondwe and ivuzamanzi were led forth to die. there had been rain in the night, which had left a raw chill in the air; while the wind sang mournfully as it drove the low clouds along the hill tops. a pit had been dug in front of the gaol, to serve as a drop, and over this the gallows had been erected. from an early hour natives had been coming in by twos and threes, and now a crowd of several hundreds of them had assembled. their demeanour however was neither turbulent nor defiant, on the contrary it was remarkably subdued, and they conversed in awed undertones. with a view to any possible demonstration a full troop of mounted police was disposed around the scaffold, with bandoliers filled, and all ready for action, but the precaution was unnecessary. the temper of the dark crowd was one of subdued awe as it contemplated the preparations for this grim and unaccustomed method of exit from life; in short just the very effect intended to be produced by making the execution a public one. a hollow murmur ran over the crowd like a wave as the gaol doors swung open and the prisoners appeared, pinioned. their demeanour was varied. that of ukozi showed, unmistakably, fear--shrinking fear. at sight of the scaffold something like a tremor ran through the frame of the witch doctor, and he half stopped instinctively, while his lips moved in piteous protest. ivondwe was as impassive as a statue; but the chief's son walked with his head thrown back, his tall form erect, and a bitter scowl of hate and defiance upon his face. then his glance met mine. "that is the man through whom i am here," he roared. "are there none present to whom i may bequeath my vengeance?" and he glared around. "yet i saved thy life once, son of tyingoza," i answered, speaking so that all could hear, and this i did with a purpose. "walk on, ivuzamanzi, and die like the son of a chief," said the sheriff to him in a low tone. and he obeyed. the indian hangman and his assistant did their work quickly and well, and the three disappeared from view, hardly a quiver in the ropes showing that they had met death instantaneously, and in infinitely more merciful fashion than the lingering and horrible manner in which they had meted it out to so many unsuspecting victims sacrificed to their abominable and devilish superstition; and as i thought of one who came within an ace of adding to the number of such victims i could feel no pity for them now, which may have been wrong, but if it is i can't help it. in pursuance of the policy which had decreed that the execution should be public, the natives were allowed to come forward in batches and view the bodies if they wished. many did so come forward, and the sight of the three hanging there, still and motionless, with the white caps drawn over their heads and faces, seemed to impress them deeply, judging from the remarks they made as they went away. moreover i have reason to believe the effect was salutary and lasting. the pomp and awe and mystery of it appealed to them powerfully. i had a reason for answering ivuzamanzi, otherwise i would not have seemed to wrangle with a man on the very steps of the scaffold. for, be it remembered, he was the son of a powerful chief, and his words might be in the highest degree dangerous to myself, and i had no hankering to be marked out as the object of a vendetta. but i knew that natives have a strong sense of justice, and the fact that i had once saved his life being made known, would go far towards taking the sting out of his denunciation. "he feared," said a native voice at my elbow. i turned quickly, though i knew the voice. it was that of jan boom. "he feared," repeated the xosa. "he feared death. his heart melted to water within him. _silungile_! now am i avenged." chapter thirty three. conclusion. for all the brave way in which aida had taken her grisly experience--and the full gruesomeness of her peril and narrow escape had been borne in upon her, especially during the trial and the revelations it had evolved--an impression had been left upon her mind which rendered the life to which she had been looking forward, and its associations, distasteful to her for the present. so after our marriage, which took place a month later than the dark and tragical circumstances i have just recorded, we decided to start for a prolonged tour of a year or more in europe. that time was a halcyon time for me, falling in no whit short of what i had always pictured it in anticipation. we did not hurry ourselves. we took things easily, and thus were spared all the worry and flurry of those who do not. in consequence we were able to enjoy to the full the pick of the old world in all that was beautiful or interesting, and after my twenty years of up-country knocking about, and generally roughing it, everything enjoyed in such association was both. the farm i had bought for our joint occupation i was able to dispose of at a trifling loss, and my trading store i sold at some profit; which made things not merely as broad as they were long, as the saying goes, but broader. but before we started on our tour it transpired that edith sewin and kendrew had managed to compass a very mutual excellent understanding--it might have occurred to me at the time of our anxiety and grief that kendrew had displayed quite an unusual familiarity in his references to my sister-in-law elect, but i suppose in the all-absorbing anguish of my own loss i had no mind to give to any such trivial detail. but as we were to be away a long time, the artful dog took advantage of the circumstance to hurry forward his own ambition. it would never do, he urged--they both urged--for the presence of her only sister to be wanting at edith's marriage, and in the result if there was not a double wedding, at any rate there were two within a very short time of each other. well, we were all glad. kendrew was a good fellow--a thoroughly good fellow--and the farm he had inherited through poor old hensley's murder was a right good one. he was going to throw up transport-riding and work it, he declared, and he did. the old people, reft thus of both their daughters, decided to leave the frontier and settle just outside durban; an excellent climate and country for those who have spent most of their lives in india. the farm was turned over to falkner; who, by the way, soon blossomed into a remarkably able and energetic colonist. his sheer brutal pluck won him the very real and undiluted respect of the natives, and after not more than three attempts had been made upon his life, these came to the conclusion that "umsindo" was really great, and one whom, taking him all round, it was no disgrace or disadvantage to serve; for with all his faults he was open-handed, and this tells. he was a very devil, they declared, but one that it was better to be with than against, and so he prospered. but he soon found a better outlet for his pugnacity than mere head punching, for the zulu war broke out, and of course falkner must be in the thick of it. he served all through, in a corps of irregular horse, and performed fine feats of daring on more than one occasion and notably during the disastrous rout on the hlobane mountain, for which he ought to have got the v.c. but didn't, and is a happy man proportionately in that he cherishes a grievance. by a curious irony of fate too he was instrumental in saving the life of no less a personage than our old antagonist, dolf norbury, for soon after the invasion of zululand, that worthy, having quarrelled with his friend and ally mawendhlela, found himself run very hard by that gin-loving potentate's followers. he had made a desperate fight for it, and had shot down quite a number. still there were numbers left, when falkner, happening along with a patrol, rescued him only in the bare nick of time. afterwards he told me that he had invited him to try, just in a friendly way, another "scrap" for the conqueror, but dolf wasn't taking any. he'd rather light out for over the swazi border, he said, if it was all the same to his rescuer and quondam enemy. it was--and so they parted, this time in a kind of rough friendliness. of the "brotherhood of the dew" i have been able to get no further information. whether the zulu war had created a far-reaching diversion, or that the hanging of ukozi and co. had conveyed the impression that it was unhealthy to carry on its operations in a white man's country i can't say for certain, but nothing more was heard of it, in natal at any rate. aida's experience of it however, had left such an impression upon her that she had a rooted aversion to returning to live anywhere near the scene of its former operations, so we decided to settle down upon a farm in one of the most healthy and picturesque parts of the eastern districts of the cape colony. there jan boom is our most reliable and trusted factotum; jan boom, now the owner of three wives--with power to add to the number--and much cattle--the result of the priceless service he rendered us in the past. priceless service! yes indeed, for although a good many years have gone by since the events happened of which i, godfrey glanton, have striven to set forward a clear account--remember literature is not an up-country man's strong point--still they have been years of unbroken happiness. and still they remain, in proof whereof, i invite any reader of this narrative who may find himself in my part of the world, to come and judge for himself. i am easily found, and i promise him a cordial welcome, and--if he is fond of the gun--something not bad in the way of sport. the end. the triumph of hilary blachland, by bertram mitford. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the triumph of hilary blachland, by bertram mitford. chapter one. the camp on the matya'mhlope. "there! that is umzilikazi's grave," said christian sybrandt, pointing out a towering pile of rocks some little way off, across the valley. "is it? let's go and have a look at it then," was the prompt reply. but immediately upon having made it, the second speaker knew that he had spoken like a fool, for the first gave a short laugh. "go over and have a look at it?" he echoed. "why we'd all be cut to bits before we got within half a mile. it's holy ground, man; guarded, picketed by armed _majara_, rigidly watched, day and night. you couldn't get near it, no, not at any price." "well, i've a great notion to try," persisted the other, to the imaginative side of whose temperament the place of sepulture of that remarkable savage, the remorseless, all-destroying war-leader, the founder and consolidator of a martial nation, irresistibly appealed, no less than the mystery and peril enshrouding the undertaking did to the adventurous side. "no white man has ever seen it close, i think you said, sybrandt?" "that's so. and you won't constitute the exception, blachland. you'll never get there; and, if you did, you'd never get away." "yet it would be interesting to constitute that exception," persisted the other. "i like doing things that nobody else has done." "well, even if you escaped the five hundred to one chances against you, you wouldn't have the satisfaction of talking about it--not as long as you are in this country, at all events; for let even so much as a whisper get about that you had done such a thing, and your life wouldn't be worth a week's purchase." the two men were riding over the site of the old mahlahlanhlela kraal-- distinguishable by its great circle of nearly overgrown hut floors, and sherds of rude pottery, erewhile the head-quarters of a favourite regiment of the great king, whose tomb they were viewing. there it rose, that tomb, away on the right, a great pile standing boldly against the sky--prominent from the outermost edge of the rugged matopo, all tumbled rocks, and granite boulders and scant tree growth; in front, an undulating sweep, bounded by the inyoka ridge, the site of old bulawayo. the two men were dressed in serviceable and well-worn buckskin, and carried rifles. following a little distance behind them came a group of natives, whose burden, the meat and other spoils of a young sable antelope bull, testified to the nature of the errand from which they were returning. the countenance of both, darkened by sun and exposure, wore the same expression of blended repose and latent alertness which a roving up-country life seems invariably to produce. sybrandt--he had dropped the original "van"--was dutch by birth, though english by sympathies and associations. trader, hunter, gold-prospector, adventurer all round, his life had been spent mainly on the confines of civilisation, or far beyond the same; and what he did not know about natives, from the zambesi to durban, from inhambane to walfisch bay, nobody else did. he, for his part, was no less known to them. "u' klistiaan," as they called him, in adaptation of his baptismal name, stood to them as a white man who commanded their respect and confidence far and wide. of cool courage and unflinching resolution, a firm friend, and, while enmity lasted, a determined and dangerous foe, he stood as high in the estimation of the zulu-speaking races as these qualifications could place him, which is to say at the highest. he was a man of about forty; in outward aspect of medium height and of sturdy and powerful build, his dark hair and pointed beard just turning iron grey. his companion, whom we heard him address by the name of blachland, was something of a mystery. nobody knew much, if anything, about him, except that originally he was an english importation with some years of up-country experience, and that he came and went sporadically, disappearing for a time, and turning up again as if he had been away about a week, perfectly unexplanatory, uncommunicative, as to his doings in the interim. he was a tall dark man, who might be any age compatible with a hardy frame and untiring energy. a keen sportsman and keener adventurer, he was ever on the look out for the possibilities underlying up-country life; and, in curious contrast to his normally hard and philosophic nature, was a tendency to fits of almost boyish excitement and recklessness; which would break out when least expected, and with apparently inadequate motive, and which were wont to land their owner in positions of peril or difficulty, but which, by a curious compensating element in nature, were none the less available to extricate him therefrom right at the critical moment. now he made no reply to his companion's very confident and more than ominous forecast. but more than one wistful glance did he send in the direction of the great natural mausoleum. the king's grave! this rock sepulchre would hold all that was weird and uncommon, and into it no european eye had ever gazed. that was sufficient for one of hilary blachland's temperament. soon the last resting-place of umzilikazi, the great king, was hidden from sight behind. a few miles more and a strange phenomenon as of a mighty cloud of dust and smoke, crowning a distant eminence, broke upon the view in front, and through it a vast cluster of round grass roofs, from the silent throne of the dead the pair had turned to front the throne of the living, pulsating with humanity and its primitive impulses--bulawayo, the great kraal of lo bengula, son of that umzilikazi whose bones lay within the sombre heart of that great rock pile behind. not on this, however, were their steps bent. down in the valley a camp was set, and the white tents of three waggons rose among the scant bush on the banks of the matya'mhlope, at the foot of the abrupt ridge of shining stones which gives to that insignificant river its name. and as our two wayfarers gained it the sun dropped, and in this latitude without twilight the night began to fall. two other white men were seated in camp as these two arrived. like christian sybrandt, young and pemberton were traders and hunters, and looked it; whereas the presence of hilary blachland with the outfit was inconsequent. but that word more than rather summed up hilary blachland. he was all keenness, however, on anything new and strange, and now the impression had grown and grown upon him that umzilikazi's grave came under both these qualifying adjectives. wherefore later, when the fire was roaring up brightly with red and cheery glow, and the sable antelope steaks, hot and fizzing, had been transferred from the frying-pan to the metal enamelled camp plates, he must needs drag in the subject again. pemberton, the elder of the other two traders, whistled and shook his heavy beard. "it's a thing that won't bear meddling with," was his laconic dictum. "well, i should like to meddle with it to the extent of having a look at it anyway," persisted blachland. "any one here ever seen it close, by the way?" "no, nor likely to," answered young. "i saw it once, about a mile off; near enough to get a good look at it through a glass. it's a tall cleft, running right up the face of the boulder, and overhung by another boulder like a porch. there's a tree in front too. i'd just time to see so much when a lot of _majara_, spotting my binoculars, started for me, yelling like blazes. i judged it wise to take a bee-line for bulawayo, and get under old lo ben's wing; but they ran me hard all the way--got there nearly as soon as i did, and clamoured to be allowed to kill me. lo ben wouldn't have that, but he hinted to me quietly that the country wouldn't be healthy for a year or so, and i took the hint. no, take my advice and leave it alone. apart from the risk, there's no luck meddling with such places--no, none." "oh, skittles about luck. it's the risk i take count of, and that only. the fact is, young, you old up-country men are as superstitious as sailors," returned blachland, with that strange, eager restlessness which now and then, and generally unexpectedly, obtruded to give the lie to his ordinarily calm and immobile demeanour. "i'll risk the _majara_--luck doesn't count,--and sooner or later i'll explore umzilikazi's grave." sybrandt was conscious of what, in a less self-contained man, would have been an obvious start at these words. a dark form had glided silently in among them all. it was only one of their camp servants, but--a native of the country. what if he had heard--had understood? he knew some english too! "even if you got through the pickets of _majara_, blachland," struck in sybrandt, when this man had retired; "you'd have another factor to reckon with. the king's snake." "eh?" "the king's snake." blachland spluttered. "see here, sybrandt," he said. "are you seriously trying to fill me up? me, mind? no, it can't be." "well, the matabele say there's a big snake mounting guard over umzilikazi's remains. it is the king's spirit which has passed into the snake. that is why the snake comes in such a lot when they go periodically and give the _sibonga_ at his grave." "and you believe that?" "they say so." "what sort of a snake is it?" "a black _imamba_. mind you, i've never seen it." "don't you be so cocksure about everything, blachland," grunted pemberton, who was fast dropping asleep. "luck or no luck, there's mighty rum things happen you can't explain, nor scare up any sort of reason for." "won't do--no, not for half a minute," returned the other, briskly and decisively. "you can explain everything; and as for luck, and all that sort of thing--why, it's only fit for old women, and the lower orders." pemberton grunted again, and more sleepily still. his pipe at that moment fell out of his mouth, and he lurched over, fast asleep. sybrandt, too, was nodding, but through his drowsiness he noticed that the native, a low-class matabele, hlangulu by name, was moving about, as though trying to sidle up near enough to catch some of the conversation. he was drowsy, however, and soon dropped off. blachland, sitting there, felt anything but inclined for sleep. this new idea had caught on to his mind with a powerful hold. it was full of risk, and the object to be attained _nil_. the snake story he dismissed as sheer savage legend, childish and poor even as such. the luck theory, propounded by pemberton, smacked of the turnip-fed lore of the average chaw-bacon in rural england. no, the risk lay in the picket-guard. that, to his mind, constituted the real peril, and the only one. it, however, might be avoided; and, the more he thought about it, the more resolved was hilary blachland to penetrate the forbidden recess, to explore the tomb of the warrior king, and that at any risk. strangely wakeful, he lounged there, filling and lighting pipe after pipe of good magaliesberg. the stars gleamed forth from the dark vault, so bright and clear and lamp-like in the glow of night in those high, subtropical latitudes, that it seemed as though the hand had but to be stretched forth to grasp them. away over the veldt, jackals yelped; and the glimmer of the camp fire, dying low, emboldened the hungry little beasts to come nearer and nearer, attracted by the fresh meat brought in during that afternoon. the native followers, their heads in their blankets, had ceased their sonorous hum of gossip, and were mingling their snores with the somewhat discomforting sounds emitted by the nostrils of pemberton. away on the northern sky-line, a faint glow still hung, and from time to time a muffled snatch of far-away song. a dance of some sort was in late progress at the king's kraal, but such had no novelty for blachland. the exploration of the king's grave, however, had; and he could think upon nothing else. yet, could he have foreseen, his companions had uttered words of sound wisdom. he had better have left umzilikazi's sepulchre severely alone. chapter two. before the king. "tumble out, blachland. we've got to go up and interview the king." thus sybrandt at an early hour on the following morning. "and," he added in a low voice, "i hope the _indaba_ will end satisfactorily, that's all." "why shouldn't it?" was the rather sleepy rejoinder. and the speaker kicked off his blanket, and, sitting up, yawned and stretched himself. three savage-looking matabele were squatted on the ground just within the camp. they were _majara_, and were arrayed in full regimentals, i.e. fantastic bedizenments of cowhair and monkey-skin, and their heads crowned with the _isiqoba_, or ball of feathers; one long plume from the wing of a crested crane stuck into this, pointing aloft like a horn. the expression of their faces was that of truculent contempt, as their glance roamed scornfully from the camp servants, moving about their divers occupations, to the white men, to whom they were bearers of a peremptory summons. it was significant of the ominous character of the latter, no less than of the temper of arrogant hostility felt towards the whites by the younger men of the nation, that these sat there, toying with the blades of their assegais and battle-axes; for a remonstrance from sybrandt against so gross a violation of etiquette as to enter a friendly camp with weapons in their hands had been met by a curt refusal to disarm, on the ground that they were king's warriors, and, further, that they were of the king's bodyguard, and, as such, were armed, even in the presence of the great great one himself. "i only hope no inkling of what we were talking about yesterday has got wind, blachland," explained sybrandt, seriously. "if lo ben got such a notion into his head--why then, good night. as to which, do you happen to notice that one of our fellows is missing? no, no; don't say his name. those three jokers have got their ears wide open, and are smart at putting two and two together." thoroughly awake now, blachland, looking around, became aware of the significance of the other's statement. one of the "boys" was missing, and that the one who had seemed to be overhearing when they had talked on that dangerous topic--hlangulu, the matabele. "hurry now, amakiwa," growled one of the messengers. "is not the great great one waiting?" "he can wait a little longer, _umfane_," rejoined pemberton, tranquilly sipping his coffee, which was hot. "_ah_! who but a madman would provoke the wrath of the black bull?" growled the savage. pemberton nodded. "the black bull in this case is no longer a calf," he replied. "therefore he will know that everything cannot be done in a hurry." the three savages scowled and muttered. in their heart of hearts they had an immense respect for these cool, imperturbable white men, so entirely but unobtrusively fearless. at last the latter arose, and, buckling on their bandoliers and taking their rifles, declared that they were ready. "put those down. the great great one has sent for you. you cannot go before him armed," said one of the envoys insolently, pointing with his knob stick. but for all the effect the injunction had upon those to whom it was addressed, it might just as well not have been uttered. the slightest possible raising of an eyebrow alone showed that they had so much as heard it. the horses were brought round saddled, and, mounting, they started, a kind of instinct moving them to outmanoeuvre each attempt of their truculent summoners to bring up the rear. but as they moved out of camp the idea was the same in all four minds--whether they were destined ever to re-enter it. lo bengula was, at that time, friendly to the english. sick of haggling with rival concession-mongers, he had finally concluded terms for the occupation of adjacent mashunaland, and, having made the best of a bad job, felt relieved that his lines were henceforth cast in peaceful and pleasant places. but he reckoned without the nation which produced drake and hawkins, raleigh and clive, and--cecil rhodes. he reckoned, also, without his own fighting men. the bumptiousness of these was inordinate, overwhelming. they were fully convinced they could whip all creation--that agglomeration being represented hither to by the inferior tribes, which they had reduced and decimated ever since the exodus from zululand. now these troublesome whites were coming into the country by threes and fours--why not make an end of them before they became too numerous? umzilikazi would have done this--umzilikazi, that elephant who had made the nation what it was. so they murmured against lo bengula, in so far as they dared, and that was a good deal, for the voice of a nation can make itself heard, even against a despot, when the potentate thinks fit to run counter to its sense. now, three out of the four knew the king intimately; the other, blachland to wit, fairly well. they had frequently visited him at bulawayo, either spontaneously, or in compliance with a request. but never had they been sent for in such fashion that a trio of armed and insolent youths were thought good enough to be the bearers of the king's message. upon this circumstance, and the disappearance of hlangulu, christian sybrandt was expatiating, as they took their way leisurely along the slope where the business part of the present town of bulawayo now stands, for lo bengula's great place crowned the rise some two miles to the eastward. and here signs of busy life were already apparent. files of women, bearers of wood or water, were stepping along; bunches of cattle being driven or herded; here and there, men, in groups or singly, proceeding to, or returning from the great kraal, their deep-toned voices rising upon the air in contrast to the clearer trebles of the feminine ones, though none the less rich and melodious. and above the immense kraal, with its ring of clustering huts, a blue smoke cloud, drifting lazily to leeward, as though the place were in a state of conflagration. a peaceful, pastoral scene, but that the sun glinted on the blades of the assegais carried by the men, and on the sheen of their miniature shields. nor were other symptoms wanting, and those of a far more ominous character, which should bring home to our party the full fact that they were in the heart of a nation of turbulent and ruthless barbarians; for as they drew nearer to the great kraal, a mighty hubbub arose within its precincts, and there emerged from the stockade a dark surging crowd of armed warriors. these, uttering a ferocious shout, made straight for the new arrivals. "steady, blachland," enjoined sybrandt, in a low tone. "don't lose your head, man; keep cool. it's the only thing to be done." the warning was needed, for he to whom it was addressed had already shown signs of preparing to resist this hostile threatening demonstration. the gravity of the tone in which it was uttered, however, went far to neutralise in his mind the reassuring effect of the imperturbable aspect of his companions. the swarm of savages came crowding round the four white men, brandishing their assegais and battle-axes, and frightening the horses not a little. but two bechuana boys who were attendant upon their masters they managed to frighten a good deal more. these turned grey with terror, and really there was some excuse for it. for each had been seized by a tall ruffian, who, gripping him by the throat, was making believe to rip him with a great assegai brandished in front of the miserable wretch's face, every now and then letting him feel the point sufficiently to make him think the stroke already dealt, causing the victim to yell and whine with terror. the while his white masters could do nothing to protect him, their efforts being needed to calm and restrain their badly-frightened horses: an element of the grotesque which evoked roars of bass laughter from the boisterous and bloodthirsty crowd. "cease this fooling!" shouted sybrandt, in the sindabele tongue. "is this how you treat the king's guests? make way. we are bound upon the king's business." "the king's business!" echoed the warriors. "the king's business! ah! ah! we too are bound upon the king's business. come and see, amakiwa. come and see how we black ones, the children of the king, the eater-up of the disobedient, perform his bidding." then, for the first time, our party became aware that in the midst of the crowd were two men who had been dragged along by raw-hide thongs noosed round their necks; and, their horses having quieted down, they were able to observe what was to follow. that the poor wretches were about to be sacrificed in some hideous and savage fashion was only too obvious, and they themselves could not refuse to witness this horror, for the reason that to do so would be, in the present mood of these fiends, almost tantamount to throwing away their own lives. "what is their offence, sikala-kala?" asked sybrandt, addressing a man he knew. "their offence? _au_! it is great. they have gone too near the _esibayaneni_, the sacred place where the king, the great great one, practises _mutt_. what offence can be greater than such?" the victims, their countenances set and stony with fear, were now seized and held by many a pair of powerful and willing hands. then, with the blade of a great assegai, their ears were deliberately shorn from their heads. a roar of delight went up from the barbarous spectators, who shouted lustily in praise of the king. "so said the great great one: `they had ears, but their ears heard what it was not lawful they should hear, so they must hear no more!' is he not wise? _au_! the wisdom of the calf of matyobane!" again the executioners closed around their victims. a moment more and they parted. they were holding up to the crowd their victims' eyes. the roars of delight rose in redoubled volume. "so said the black one: `they had eyes, but they saw what it was not lawful for them to look upon. so they must see no more!' _au_! the greatness of the elephant whose tread shaketh the world!" there was a tigerish note in the utterance of this horrible paean which might well have made the white spectators shudder. whatever they felt, however, they must show nothing. "i shall be deadly sick directly," muttered blachland; and all wondered what horror was yet to come. the two blinded and mutilated wretches were writhing and moaning, and begging piteously for the boon of death to end their terrible sufferings. but their fiendish tormentors were engaged in far too congenial a task to be in any undue hurry to end it. it is only fair to record that to the victims themselves it would have been equally congenial were the positions reversed. at last, however, the executioners again stepped forward. "so said the ruler of nations," they bellowed, their short-handled heavy knob sticks held aloft: "these two had the power of thought. they used that power to pry into what it is not lawful for them even to think about. a man without brains cannot think. let them therefore think no more." and with these two last words of the king's sentence--terse, remorseless in the simplicity of its barbarous logic--the heavy knob sticks swept down with a horrid crunch as of the pulverising of bones. another and another. the sufferings of the miserable wretches were over at last. their death struggles had ceased, and they lay stark and motionless, their skulls literally battered to pieces. not the most hardened and philosophical of the white spectators could entirely conceal the expressions of loathing and repulsion which were stamped upon each countenance as they turned away from this horrid sight. on that of blachland it was far the most plainly marked, and seemed to afford the ferocious crowd the liveliest satisfaction. "see there, amakiwa," they shouted. "look and behold. it is not well to pry into forbidden things. behold the king's justice." and again they chorused forth volleys of _sibonga_, i.e. the royal praises. was it merely a coincidence that their looks and the significance of the remark seemed to be directed peculiarly at blachland? he himself was not the only one who thought so. "what do you think now, blachland?" said young, dryly. "better leave that little exploration scheme you were planning strictly alone, eh?" "well, i believe i had," was the answer. and now the armed warriors clustered round the white men. some were chatting with christian sybrandt as they moved upward to the great kraal, for they had insisted on forming a sort of escort for their visitors; or, as these far more resembled, their prisoners. they were in better humour now, after their late diversion, but still there were plenty who shook their assegais towards the latter, growling out threats. and as they approached the vast enclosure, the same thought was foremost in the minds of all four. something had gone wrong. they could only hope it was not as they suspected. they were absolutely at the mercy of a suspicious barbarian despot, the objects of the fanatical hate of his people. what that "mercy" might mean they had just had a grimly convincing object lesson. chapter three. what happened at bulawayo. as they entered the outer enclosure, a deep humming roar vibrated upon the air. two regiments, fully armed, were squatted in a great crescent, facing the king's private quarters, and were beguiling the time with a very energetic war-song--while half a dozen warriors, at intervals of space apart, were indulging in the performance of _gwaza_, stabbing furiously in the air, right and left, bellowing forth their deeds of "dering-do" and pantomiming how they had done them--leaping high off the ground or spinning round on one leg. the while, the great crescent of dark bodies, and particoloured shields, and fantastic headgear, swaying to the rhythmic chant; the sparkle and gleam of assegais; the entirely savage note of anticipation conveyed by nearly two thousand excited voices, constituted a spectacle as imposing as it was indisputably awe-inspiring. "the imbizo and induba regiments," said sybrandt, with a glance at this martial array. but with their appearance the song ceased, and the warriors composing this end of the crescent jumped up, and came crowding around, in much the same rowdy and threatening fashion which had distinguished the execution party down in the valley. "lay down your arms, amakiwa!" they shouted. "_au_! it is death to come armed within the gates of the ruler of the world." "it has never been death before--not for us," replied sybrandt. "at the inner gate, yes--we disarm; not at the outer." the answer only served to redouble the uproar. assegais were flourished in the faces of the four white men--for they had already dismounted-- accompanied by blood-curdling threats, in such wise as would surely have tried the nerves of any one less seasoned. the while sybrandt had been looking round for some one in authority. "greeting, sikombo," he cried, as his glance met that of a tall head-ringed man, who was strolling leisurely towards the racket. "these boys of thine are in high spirits," he added good-humouredly. the crowd parted to make way for the new arrival, as in duty bound, for he was an induna of no small importance, and related to the king by marriage. "i see you, klistiaan," replied the other, extending his greeting to the rest of the party. but even the presence of the induna could not restrain the turbulent aggressiveness of the warriors. they continued to clamour against the white men, whom they demanded should disarm here instead of at the inner gate. to this demand, sybrandt, who was tacitly allowed by the others to take the lead in all matters of native etiquette or diplomacy--did not deem it advisable to accede. but something in sikombo's face caused him to change his mind, and, having done so, the next best thing was to do it with a good grace. "what does it matter?" he said genially. "a little way here, or a little way there." and he stood his rifle against the fence, an example which was followed by the others. the warriors then fell back, still with muttered threats; and, accompanied by the induna, the four white men crossed the open space to the gate of the king's stockade. there perforce they had to wait, for the barbarian monarch of zulu descent and tradition is, in practice, in no greater hurry to receive those who come to consult him than is the average doctor or lawyer of twentieth-century england, however eager he may be in his heart of hearts to do so, and the last of the matabele kings was not the man to forget what was due to his exalted position. "what does it all mean, sybrandt?" said blachland, as, sitting down upon the dusty ground, they lighted their pipes. "why are the swine so infernally aggressive? what does it mean anyhow?" "mean?" returned young, answering for sybrandt, who was talking to the induna, sikombo. "why, it means that our people yonder will soon have to fight like blazes if they don't want their throats cut,"--with a jerk of the hand in the direction of the newly occupied mashunaland. "the _majara_ are bound to force lo ben's hand--if they haven't already." from all sides of the great kraal the ground sloped away in gentle declivity, and the situation commanded a wide and pleasant view in the golden sunlight, and beneath the vivid blue of a cloudless subtropical sky. to the north and west the dark, rolling, bush-clad undulations beyond the umguza river--eastward again, the plain, dotted with several small kraals, each contributing its blue smoke reek, led the eye on to the long flat-topped intaba-'zinduna. down in the valley bottom--where now stands the huge straggling town, humming with life and commerce-- vast cornfields, waving with plumed maize and the beer-yielding _amabele_; and away southward the shining rocky ridge of the matya'mhlope; while, dappling the plain, far and near, thousands of multi-coloured cattle--the king's herds--completed the scene of pleasant and pastoral prosperity. in strange contrast to which the cloud of armed warriors, squatted within the gates, chanting their menacing and barbarous strophes. suddenly these were hushed, so suddenly indeed as to be almost startling. for other voices were raised, coming from the stockade which railed in the _esibayaneni_--the _sanctum sanctorum_. they were those of the royal "praisers" stentoriously shouting forth the king's _sibonga_:-- "he comes--the lion!"--and they roared. "behold him--the bull, the black calf of matyobane!"--and at this they bellowed. "he is the eagle which preys upon the world!"--here they screamed; and as each imitative shout was taken up by the armed regiments, going through every conceivable form of animal voice--the growling of leopards, the hissing of serpents, even to the sonorous croak of the bull-frog--the result was indescribably terrific and deafening. then it ceased as suddenly as the war-song had ceased. the king had appeared. advancing a few steps from the gateway, he paused and stood surveying the gathering. then, cleaving the silence in thunder tones, there volleyed forth from every throat the salute royal-- "kumalo!" over the wide slopes without it rolled and echoed. voices far and near--single voices, and voices in groups--the melodious voices of women at work in the cornfields--all who heard it echoed it back, now clear, now faint and mellowed by distance-- "_kumalo_!" there was that in the aspect of the king as he stood thus, his massive features stern and gloomy as he frowned down upon those whose homage he was receiving, his attitude haughty and majestic to the last degree, which was calculated to strike awe into the white beholders if only through the consciousness of how absolutely they were in his power. he had discarded all european attempts at adornment, and was clad in nothing but the inevitable _mutya_ and a kaross made of the dressed skin of a lioness, thrown carelessly over his shoulders. his shaven head was surmounted just above the forehead by the small matabele ring, a far less dignified-looking form of crest than the large zulu one. then, as he advanced a few steps further, with head thrown back, and his form, though bulky, erect and commanding, a more majestic-looking savage it would be hard to imagine. a massive chair, carved out of a single tree stump, was now set by one of the attendants, and as lo bengula enthroned himself upon it, again the mighty shouts of praise rent the air-- "thou art the child of the sun!" "blanket, covering thy people!" "king mountain of the matopo!" "elephant whose tread shaketh the world!" "eater-up of zwang'indaba!" "crocodile, who maketh our rivers to flow clear water!" "rhinoceros!" such, and many more, were the attributes wherewith they hailed their monarch, who was, to all intents and purposes, their god. then the chorus altered. a new and more ominous clamour now expressed its burden. it became hostile and bloodthirsty in intent towards the white strangers within their gates. who were these whites? chanted the warriors. it were better to make an end of them. they were but the advance-guard of many more--swarms upon swarms of them--even as the few locusts who constituted the advance-guard of swarms upon swarms of that red locust, the devourer, which had not been known in the land before the amakiwa had been allowed to come and settle in the land. the locusts had settled and were devouring everything--the amakiwa had settled and were devouring everything. let them be stamped out. those thus referred to sat still and said nothing. for all the effect the bloodthirsty howling had upon them outwardly, they might just as well not have heard it. lo bengula sat immovable in frowning abstraction. the two regiments, waxing more and more excited, began to close in nearer. as warriors armed for some service, they were allowed to approach that near the king, with their weapons and shields. they growled and mouthed around their white visitors, and one, at any rate, of these expected to feel the assegai through his back any moment. but at this juncture one of the indunas seated near the king leaned forward, and spoke. he was a very old man, lean and tall, and, before the stoop of age had overtaken him must have been very tall indeed. "peace, children," he rebuked. "the dogs of the king have other game to hunt. these amakiwa are not given to you to hunt. they are the friends of the black elephant." growls of dissatisfaction greeted this reproof, which seemed not supported by lo bengula. "have done, then," thundered the old induna. "get back, dogs, who have but yesterday learned to yap. offend ye the ears of the great great one with your yelpings? get back!" this time the rebuke answered. respect for age and authority is among the bantu races instinctive and immense, and the speaker in this instance represented both, for he had participated in the exodus from zululand, under umzilikazi, early in the century, and had been one of that potentate's most trusted indunas before lo bengula was born; wherefore the malcontents shrunk back, with stifled growlings, to take up their former position at a distance. order being restored, sybrandt judged it time to open the proceedings. "kumalo!" he began, saluting the king, his companions joining. "i see you, klistiaan," returned lo bengula, somewhat surlily. "all of you." "the king has sent for us, and we have come," went on sybrandt. "strange messengers entered our camp this morning, three _majara_, armed. furthermore, they were rude." "_au_!" exclaimed lo bengula, with a shake of the head. "see you not, klistiaan, my fighting men love not white people just now. it would be better, indeed, if such were to leave the country. it is no longer the healthy season for white people here." which apparently commonplace remark conveyed to these experienced listeners, three distinct meanings--first, that their position was exceedingly dangerous; secondly, that lo bengula was aware that even his authority might be insufficient to protect them from the fanatical hate of his warriors, but did not choose to say so in so many words; and lastly, the tone in which it was uttered conveyed a royal command. but to the recipients of the latter, it was exceedingly distasteful. an order of a more startling nature was, however, to follow. "you, isipau," addressing blachland. "turn your waggon wheels homeward, before the going down of the sun." "isipau," signifying "mushroom," was blachland's native name, and as such he had been known among the natives on his first arrival in the country, years before, owing to his inordinate partiality for that delectable vegetable wherever it could be obtained. "when white people come into my country i welcome them as my friends," went on the king. "when i give them leave to hunt and to trade, it is well. it is not well when they seek to look into things for which i have given them no permission. now i have given an order, and i give not my orders twice. fare ye well. _hambani-gahle_." and without another word, lo bengula rose from his seat, and stalked within the stockade. blachland was the first to speak. "damn!" he ejaculated. "be careful, man, for heaven's sake," warned sybrandt. "if they got wind you were cursing the king, then--good-night!" then, turning to the old induna, who had quelled the outcry against them, "who has poisoned the heart of the great great one against us, faku? have we not always been his friends, and even now we have done no wrong." the old induna shrugged his shoulders, as he answered-- "who am i that i should pry into the king's mind, klistiaan? but his `word' has been spoken in no uncertain voice," he added significantly. this there was no denying, and they took their leave. as they passed out of the kraal, the lines of warriors glowered at them like wolves, for though the conversation had been inaudible to them, they divined that these whites had incurred the king's displeasure. "you've got us into a pretty kettle of fish, blachland," said young, rather curtly, as they rode in the direction of their camp. "don't see it," was the reply. "now, my belief is, lo ben is shirty about our gold-prospecting. my scheme had nothing to do with it." "blachland's right, young," cut in pemberton. "if it had been the other thing, we wouldn't have got off so cheaply. eh, sybrandt?" "rather not. we may thank our stars it wasn't the other. that rip hlangulu must have been strung upon us as a spy. the old man is dead off any gold-prospecting. afraid it'll bring a swarm of whites into the country, and he's right. why, what's this?" all looked back, and the same idea was in the mind of each. had lo bengula thought better of it, and yielded to the bloodthirsty clamour of his warriors? for the gates of bulawayo were pouring forth a dense black swarm, which could be none other than the impi gathered there at the time of their visit,--and this, clear of the entrance, was advancing at a run, heading straight for the four equestrians. these looked somewhat anxious. their servants, the two bechuana boys, went grey with fear. "is it a case of leg-bail?" said blachland, surveying the on-coming horde. "no, we must face it anyhow," answered pemberton, puffing at his pipe tranquilly. "besides, we can't leave these poor devils of boys to be murdered. eh, sybrandt?" "never run away, except in a losing fight and there's no help for it," was the reply. accordingly they kept their horses at a walk. but the moment was a thrilling one. on swept the impi; but now it had drawn up into a walk, and from its ranks arose a song-- "uti mayihlome, mayihlome katese njebo! ise nompako wayo namanyatelo ayo! utaho njalo. uti mayihlome katese njebo!" this strophe--which may be rendered roughly to mean, "he says (i.e. the king), `let it (the impi) arm. let it arm at once. come with its food, with its sandals.' he says always. he says, `let it arm at once!'"-- was boomed forth from nearly two thousand throats, deafening, terrifying. but the impi swept by, and, passing within a hundred yards, singing in mighty volume its imposing war-song, shields waving, and assegais brandished menacingly towards the white men, it poured up the opposite slope, taking a straight line, significantly symbolical of the unswerving purpose it had been sent to fulfil. an involuntary feeling of relief was upon the party, upon all but one, that is. for hilary blachland, noting the direction taken by this army of destroyers, could not but admit a qualm of very real and soul-stirring misgiving. that he had good grounds for the same we shall see anon. chapter four. hermia. "i don't care. i'll say it again. it's a beastly shame him leaving you alone like this." "but you are not to say it again, or to say it at all. remember of whom you are speaking." "oh, no fear of my forgetting that--of being able to forget it. all the same, he ought to be ashamed of himself." and the speaker tapped his foot impatiently upon the virgin soil of mashunaland, looking very hot, and very tall, and very handsome. the remonstrant, however, received the repetition of the offence in silence, but for a half inaudible sigh, which might or might not have been meant to convey that she was not nearly so angry with the other as her words seemed to imply or their occasion to demand. then there was silence. an oblong house, of the type known as "wattle and daub," with high-pitched thatch roof, partitioned within so as to form three rooms-- a house rough and ready in construction and aspect, but far more comfortable than appearances seemed to warrant. half a dozen circular huts with conical roofs, clustered around, serving the purpose of kitchen and storehouse and quarters for native servants; beyond these, again, a smaller oblong structure, constituting a stable, the whole walled round by a stockade of mopani poles;--and there you have a far more imposing establishment than that usually affected by the pioneer settler. around, the country is undulating and open, save for a not very thick growth of mimosa; but on one hand a series of great granite kopjes rise abruptly from the plain, the gigantic boulders piled one upon the other in the fantastic and arbitrary fashion which forms such a characteristic feature in the landscape of a large portion of rhodesia. "well?" the woman was the first to break the silence--equally a characteristic feature, a cynic might declare. "well?" the answer was staccato, and not a little pettish. the first speaker smiled softly to herself. she revelled in her power, and was positively enjoying the cat and mouse game, though it might have been thought that long custom would have rendered even that insidious pastime stale and insipid. "so sorry you have to go," she murmured sweetly. "but it's getting late, and you'll hardly reach home before dark." the start--the blank look which overspread his features--all this, too, she thoroughly enjoyed. "have to go," he echoed. "oh, well--yes, of course, if you want to get rid of me--" "i generally do want to get rid of people when they are sulky, and disagreeable, and ill-tempered," was the tranquil reply. but the expression of her eyes, raised full to his, was such as to take all the sting out of her words. not quite all, however, for his mind was in that parlous state best defined as "worked up"--and the working-up process had been one, not of hours or of days, but of weeks. "well, then, good-bye." then, pausing: "why do you torment me like this, hermia, when you know--" "what's that? i didn't say you might call me by my name." "oh, i beg your pardon, mrs blachland," was the reply, bitterly, resentfully emphatic. then, thawing suddenly, "you didn't mind it the other day, and--well, you know what you are to me and always will be." "until somebody else is more so," came the smiling interruption. "hark"--raising a hand suddenly, and listening intently. "yes, it is. will you be a very dear boy, justin, and do something for me?" "you know i would do anything for you--anything in the wide world." "oh, this is nothing very great. there are guinea-fowl over there in the kopje--i can hear them. i only want you to take hilary's gun, and go and shoot me a few. will you? the supplies are running low." "of course i will," was the answer, as they both went inside, and justin spence, invested with an excellent number bore, and a belt full of cartridges, started off on his errand of purveyor to the household, all his ill-humour gone. he was very young, you see, and the next best thing to glowing in the presence of his charmer was to be engaged in rendering her some service. she stood there watching his receding form, as it moved away rapidly over the veldt in long elastic strides. once he turned to look back. she waved her hand in encouragement. "how good-looking he is!" she said to herself. "how well he moves too-- so well set up and graceful! but why was he so emphatic just now when he called me that? was it accidental? i wonder was it? oh yes, it must have been. that's the worst of an _arriere pensee_, one is always imagining things. no, the very fact of his putting such emphasis upon the name shows it was accidental. he'd never have been so mean--justin isn't that sort." she stood for a little longer, shading her eyes to gaze after him, again smiling softly to herself as she reflected how easily she could turn him round her little finger, how completely and entirely he was her slave; and, indeed, justin spence was not the only one of whom this held good. there was a warm-blooded physical attractiveness about her which never failed to appeal to those of the other sex. she was not beautiful, hardly even pretty. her dark hair was plentiful, but it was coarse and wavy, and she had no regularity of feature, but lovely eyes and a very fascinating smile. her hands were large, but her figure, of medium height, was built on seductive lines; and yet this strange conglomeration of attractions and defects was wont to draw the male animal a hundredfold more readily than the most approved and faultless types of beauty could ever have done. still musing she entered the house. it was cool within. strips of "limbo," white and dark blue, concealed the wattle and thatch, giving the interior something of the aspect of a marquee. there were framed prints upon the walls, mostly of a sporting character, and a few framed photographs. before one of these she paused. "i think you are tired of me, hilary," she murmured, as though addressing the inanimate bit of cardboard. "i think we are tired of each other. yet--are we?" was there a touch of wistfulness in the words, in the tone as she gazed? perhaps. the eyes which met hers from the pictured cardboard were the eyes which had been all powerful to sway her, body and soul, as no other glance had ever availed to do; the face was that which had filled her every thought, day and night, and as no other had ever held it. ah, but that was long ago: and time, and possession, utterly without restriction, had palled the heretofore only dreamed-of bliss! "yes, i think we are tired of each other," she pursued. "he never takes me anywhere with him now. says a camp's no place for me, with nothing but men in it. as if i'd go if there were other women. pah! i hate women. he used not to say that. ah, well! and justin! he really is a dear boy. i believe i am getting to love him, and when he comes back i shall give him a--well, wait till he does. perhaps by then i shall have changed my mood." she had dropped into a roomy rocking-chair--a sensuous, alluring personality as she lay back, her full supple figure swaying to the rhythmic movement of the rocker, kept going by one foot. "it is as justin said," pursued the train of her meditations, "an abominable shame--a beastly shame, he called it--that i should be left all alone like this. well, if i am, surely no one can blame me for consoling myself. but what a number of them there have been, all mad, quite mad, for the time, though not all so mad as poor reggie. no, i oughtn't to be proud of that--still i suppose i am. it isn't every woman can say that a man has blown his brains out for her--and such a man as that too--a man of power and distinction, and wealthy enough even for me. if it hadn't been for hilary, he needn't have done it. and, now hilary and i are tired of each other. ah!" the last aloud. she rose and went to the door. the sound of a distant shot, then another, had given rise to this diversion. it came from away behind the granite kopjes. her deputed hunter had got to work at any rate, with what result time would show. the afternoon sun was declining. his rays swept warm and golden upon the spreading veldt and the pioneer residence, the latter looking, within its stockade, like a miniature fort. the air was wonderfully clear and pure; the golden effulgence upon the warm and balmy stillness rendering life well-nigh a joy in itself. the distant mellow shouts of the native herders, bringing in the cows; the thud of the hoofs of knee-haltered horses, nearer home, driven into their nightly stabling-- for lions were prone to sporadic visits, and nothing alive could with safely be left outside; and then, again and again from time to time, the distant crack of the gun away behind the great granite kopjes,--all seemed much nearer by reason of the sweet unearthly stillness. "he is doing me real service," said hermia to herself, as she gazed forth over this, and as each far-away report of the double-barrel was borne to her through the sweet evening air. "i think i can see him, sparing no pains--no trouble--climbing those horrid rocks, blown, breathless, simply because i--_i_--have asked him to do so." the sensuous glow of the rich african evening seemed to infect her. she stood, the sunlight bathing her splendid form, in its easy but still well-fitting covering. she began to wrap herself in anticipation, even as the glow of the declining day was wrapping her in its wondrous, ever-changing light. he would be back soon, this man whom she had sent out to toil through the afternoon heat in obedience to her behest. what would he not do if she so ordained it? and yet, as a saving clause, there was ever present to her mind the certainty that in any great and crucial matter his will would come uppermost, and it would be she who should have to receive instructions and follow them implicitly. but then, if no great or crucial matter ever arose, her regard for him, so far from growing would, in time, diminish. he was younger than she was; his knowledge of the world--let alone his experience of life-- immeasurably inferior to hers. why, even his whole-souled and entire devotion to herself was the outcome of a certain callowness, the adoration of a boy. but to her omnivorous appetite for adoration it counted for something at any time, and here, where the article was scarce, why, like everything else in that remote corner of the earth, its value stood vastly enhanced. yet even she could not in candour persuade herself that it contained the element of durability. and that other? well, he was tired of her--and she was just a little tired of him. yet she had at one time pictured to herself, and to him, that life, alone with him, such as she was now leading, would be simple and unalloyed paradise--they two, the world apart. she had looked up to him as to a god: now she wondered how she could ever have done so; there were times, indeed, when she was not careful to avoid saying as much. he had never replied, but there was that in his look which had told her plainer than words that she was fast driving nail after nail into the coffin of their love. his absences had grown more frequent and more prolonged. when at home he was graver, less communicative, never confidential. and yet--and yet? could that past ever be slurred over? had it not left too deep, too indelible a mark on her, on both of them for that? this was a side, however, upon which hermia never dwelt. though physically seductive beyond the average, she was lacking in imagination. this kept her from looking forward, still more from such unprofitable mental exercise as retrospect. in sum, she was little more than a mere animal, enjoying the sunniness of life, cowering and whimpering when its shadow came. just now, sunshine was uppermost, and her strong, full-blooded temperament expanded and glowed with pulsating and generous life. her meditations were broken in upon, and that by the sound of distant whistling, rapidly drawing nearer. somehow the strains of "a bicycle made for two," and "ta-ra-ra boomdeay," seemed to frame a jarring harmony to the sweet sunset beauty of that green and golden sweep of surrounding--the feathery mimosa and the tropical mahobo-hobo tree, and the grey granite piles, yonder, against the purple and red of the western sky--but the shrill whoop and dark forms of the mashuna boys bringing in the cattle fitted in with the picture. but no eye or ear had she for any such incongruities, any such contrast. justin spence was drawing nearer and nearer to the house, with rapid impatient strides, and she could see that he was not returning empty-handed either. assuming her most seductive manner and most bewitching smile, she strolled down to the gate to welcome him. chapter five. the net spread. "look at this--and this. five altogether, and i only had six chances. not bad, is it? they were beastly wild, you know, and i had to scramble all over that second kopje after them." he flung down two substantial feathered bunches, representing _in toto_ the guinea-fowl just enumerated. "you are a dear good boy, justin," replied hermia, looking down at the spoils which he had literally laid at her feet, and then up into his eyes. they were clear and blue, the clearer for the healthy brown of the face. how handsome he was, she thought, glancing with a thrill of approval at the tall well set-up form, in all the glory of youth and the full vigour of health. "you are really very reliable--and--you need not go yet. come in now, and well put away the gun, and you shall stay and have some supper with me; for really i am awfully lonely. unless, of course, you are afraid of going to your camp so late. they say lion spoor has been seen again." "if it had been the devil's spoor it would matter about as much or as little," he replied, with huge and delighted contempt. "sh! don't talk about unpleasant subjects--or people," she retorted. "it isn't lucky." they had entered the house. after the glow of light without, it seemed almost dark, and the sun had just gone off the world, leaving the brief pretence of an african twilight. an arm stole around her, imprisoning her tightly. "i want my reward for having carried out your instructions so efficiently," said the young man. "now give it me." "reward! virtue is its own reward, you silly boy," answered hermia, glancing up into his eyes, with her mocking ones. "in this case, it will have to be." "will it indeed?" he retorted shortly; and, stirred by the maddening proximity, likewise encouraged by a certain insidious yielding of her form within the enforced embrace, he dropped his lips on hers, and kissed them full, passionately, again and again. "there, that will do," she gasped, striving to restrain the thrill that ran through her frame. "i didn't say you might do that. really, justin, i shall have to forbid you the house. let me go, do you hear?" "hear? yes, but i don't intend to obey. oh--damn!" the last remark was addressed at large as he changed his mind with marvellous alacrity, and, wheeling round, was endeavouring to hang the bandolier to the wall upon a pin that would hardly have held a christmas card, as though his life depended upon it. for there had suddenly entered behind them one of the small mashuna boys who did the house and other work--had entered silently withal, the sooty little rascal; and now his goggle eyes were starting from their sockets with curiosity as he went about doing whatever he had to do, sending furtive and interested glances at these two, whom he had surprised in such unwonted proximity. "see, now, where your impulsiveness comes in," said hermia, when the interrupter had gone out. "is that the name of that small black nigger?" said justin spence, innocently. "i always thought he was yours." "don't be foolish, dear. it's a serious matter." "pooh! only a small black nigger. a thing that isn't more than half human." "even a small black nigger owns a tongue, and is quite human enough to know how to wag it," she reminded him. "i'll cut it out for the young dog if he does," was the ferocious rejoinder. "excellent, as a figure of speech, my dear justin. only, unfortunately, in real life, even in mashunaland, it can't be done." "well, shall i give him a scare over it?" "you can't, justin. in the first place, you could hardly make him understand. in the second, even if you could, you would probably make matters worse. leave it alone." "oh, it was on your account. it was of you i was thinking." "then you don't mind on your own?" "not a hang." she glanced at him in silent approval. this straight, erect fearlessness--this readiness to defy the whole world for her sake appealed to her. she was of the mind of those women of other times and peoples--the possession of whom depended on the possessor's ability to take and keep. "well, i must leave you now for a little while," she said. "those two pickannins are only of any use when i am looking after them. they haven't even learnt to lay a table." "let me help you." "no. candidly, i don't want you. be a good boy, justin, and sit still and rest after your walk. oh, by the way--" and unlocking a cupboard, she produced a bottle of whisky. "i was very forgetful. you'll like something to drink after the said walk?" "no, thanks. really i don't." "you don't? no wonder you've done no good prospecting. a prospector who refuses a drink after a hot afternoon's exertion! why, you haven't learnt the rudiments of your craft yet. but you must want one, and so i'll fix it up for you. there, say when--is that right?" she went on brightly, holding out the glass. "yes, i know what you are going to say--of course it is, if i mixed it. you ought to be ashamed to utter such a threadbare banality." he took the glass from her hand, but set it down untasted. the magnetism of her eyes had drawn him. it seemed to madden him, to sap his very reason, to stir every fibre in his body. "no," she said decidedly, deftly eluding the clasp in which he would fain have imprisoned her again, and extending a warning hand. "no, not again,--so soon," she added mentally. "remember, i have not forgiven you for that outrageous piece of impertinence, and don't know that i shall either. i am wondering how you could have dared." if ever there was a past mistress in the art of fooling the other sex, assuredly hermia blachland might lay claim to that distinction. standing there in the doorway, flashing back a bright, half-teasing, half-caressing look, which utterly belied the seeming sternness of her words, the effect she produced was such as to turn him _instanter_ into a most complete fool, because her thorough and subservient slave. then she went out. we have said that one of the large circular huts within the enclosure served the purpose of a kitchen, and hither she proceeded with the exceedingly useful and unromantic object of getting supper ready. yet, standing there in the midst of stuffy and uninviting surroundings, as she supervised the mashuna boys and the frying of the antelope steaks, even that prosaic occupation was not entirely devoid of romance to-night; for somehow she found herself discharging it extra carefully, for was it not for him? "now, tickey, keep those goggle eyes of yours on what you're doing, instead of rolling them around on everything and everybody else," she warned, apostrophising the small boy whose entrance had been so inopportune a short time ago. "yes, missis," replied the urchin, his round face splitting into a stripe of dazzling white as he grinned from ear to ear, whether at the recollection of what he had recently beheld, or out of sheer unthinking light-heartedness. then he turned and made some remark in their own language to his companion, which caused that sooty imp to grin and chuckle too. "what's that you're grinning at, you little scamp?" said hermia, sharply, with a meaning glance at a thin sjambok which hung on the wall, a cut or two from which was now and again necessary to keep these diminutive servitors up to the mark. "no be angry, missis. tickey, he say, `missis, she awful damn pretty.'" hermia choked down a well-nigh uncontrollable explosion of laughter. "you mustn't use that word, primrose," she said, trying to look stern. "it's a bad word." "bad word? how that, missis? baas, he say it. baas in dere--baas sepence," was the somewhat perplexing rejoinder. "well, it's a white man's word; not a word for children, black or white," explained hermia, lamely. the imps chuckled. "i no say it, missis," pursued primrose. "tickey, he say missis awful beastly pretty. always want to look at her. work no well done, missis' fault. dat what tickey say. always want look at missis." "you'd better look at what you're doing now, you monkey, and do it properly too, or you know what's likely to happen," rejoined hermia. but the implied threat in this case was absolutely an empty one, and the sooty scamps knew it. they knew, too, how to get on the soft side of their mistress. that, however, was the side very much to the fore this evening. throughout her prosaic occupation, her mind would recur with a thrill to that scene of a short half-hour ago, and already she longed for its repetition. but she was not going to give him too much. she must tantalise him sufficiently, must keep him on tenterhooks, not make herself too cheap. but was she not tantalising herself too? certainly she was, but therein lay the zest, the excitement which lent keenness to the sport. they sat down to table together. the door stood open on account of the heat, and, every now and then, winged insects, attracted by the light, would come whizzing round the lamp. there was a soft, home-like look about the room, a kind of pervading presence, and justin spence, basking in that presence, felt intoxicatingly happy. he could hardly keep his eyes from her as she sat at the head of the modest table, and the artificial light, somewhat shaded, toned down any defects of feature or colouring, and enhanced twenty-fold the expression and animation which with her physical contour, constituted the insidious and undefinable attraction which was her greatest charm. looking at these two it was hard to believe they were the inmates of a rough pioneer hut in the far wilds of mashunaland, but for the attire of one of them; for a white silk shirt, rather open at the throat, guiltless of coat or waistcoat, a leathern belt and riding breeches hardly constitutes evening dress in more civilised countries. he was telling her about himself, his position and prospects, to all of which she was listening keenly, especially as regards the latter, yet without seeming to. she knew, none better, how to lead him on to talk, always without seeming to, and now, to-night, she was simply turning him inside out. he had prospects and good solid ones. he had only come out here partly from love of adventure, partly because, after all, prospects are only prospects; and he wanted to make a fortune--a quick and dazzling fortune by gold-digging. so far, he had been no nearer making it than most others out there on the same tack, in that, for all the gold he had struck, he might as well have sunk a shaft on hampstead heath. still, there was no knowing, and all the exciting possibilities were there to spur him on. afterwards they sat outside. the night, though warm and balmy, was not oppressive. and it was very still. the screech of the tree frog, the distant yelp of a jackal, the deeper howl of a hyena, broke in upon it from time to time, and the rhythmic drone of voices from the servants' quarters. this soon ceased and the world seemed given over to night-- and these two. "how will you find your way back?" hermia was saying. "you'll get lost." "that's quite likely. so i'm not going to try. you'll have to give me a shakedown here." "no. justin, dear, believe me it would be much better not. you must even risk the chance of getting lost." "what if i'm afraid? suppose one of those lions they've been talking about got hold of me? it would be your doing." hermia smiled to herself. the excuse was too transparent. he afraid! the gleam of her white teeth in the darkness betrayed her. "it's no laughing matter," he said. "listen, darling, you don't really want to get rid of me?" "it would be better if you were to go, dearest," she answered, slipping her hand into his. "believe me, it would." the softness of her voice, the thrill of her touch simply intoxicated him with ecstasy, and there was an unsteadiness in his tone as he answered-- "surely in the wilds of mashunaland we can chuck conventionalities to the winds. if it was any one else who asked you for a shakedown you wouldn't turn him out. why me, then?" "because it is you, don't you see?" was the reply, breathed low and soft, as the pressure of her fingers tightened. they could hear each other's heart-beats in the still dead silence-- could see the light of each other's eyes in the gleam of the myriad stars. the trailing streak of a meteor shot across the dark, velvety vault, showing in its momentary gleam to each the face of the other. suddenly hermia started violently. "hark! what is that?" she cried, springing to her feet. for a loud harsh shout had cleft the stillness of the night. it was followed by another and another. coming as it did upon the dead silence, the interruption was, to say the least, startling: all the more so to these two, their nerves in a state of high-strung tension. "nothing very alarming," returned spence. "you must have heard it before. only a troop of baboons kicking up a row in the kopjes." "of course; but somehow it sounded so loud and so near." it was destined to do so still more. for even as she spoke there arose a most indescribable tumult--shrieks and yells and chattering, and over all that harsh, resounding bark: and it came from the granite kopje nearest the house--where spence had found the troop of guinea-fowl that afternoon. "what a row they're making!" he went on. "hallo! by jove! d'you hear that?" for over and above the simian clamour, another sound was discernible--a sound of unmistakable import. no one need go to mashunaland to hear it, nor anything like as far. a stroll across regent's park towards feeding time at the zoo will do just as well. it was the deep, throaty, ravening roar of hungry lions. "phew! that accounts for all the shindy!" said justin. "now do you want me to go, hermia? there isn't much show for one against a lion in the dark, and, judging from the racket, there must be several. well, shall i start?" she had drawn closer to him instinctively; not that there was any danger, for the stockade was high and strong--in fact, had been erected with an eye to such emergency. now they were strained together in a close embrace, this time she returning his kisses with more than his own passion. "you are mine--mine at last, my heart, my life!" he whispered. and the answer came back, merely breathed-- "yes, i am. all yours." and above, the myriad eyes of the starry heavens looked down; and without, the horrible throaty growl of the ravening beasts rent the night. chapter six. after-thoughts. if ever any man was in the state colloquially defined as over head and ears in love, and if ever any man had practical demonstration that his love was returned abundantly by the object thereof, assuredly the name of that man was justin spence. yet when the sun rose upon him on the following morning he somehow did not feel as elate as he should have done. for, whatever poetic associations may cluster around the hour of sunset, around that of sunrise there are none at all. it is an abominably matter-of-fact and prosaic hour, an hour when the average human is wont to feel cheap if ever, prone to retrospect, and, for choice, retrospect of an unwelcome nature. all that he has ever done that is injudicious or mean or _gauche_ will infallibly strike him as more injudicious and meaner and more _gauche_ in the cold and judicial stare of the waking hour. to this rule justin spence was no exception. his passion had not cooled--no, not one whit; yet he awoke feeling mean. his conduct had been weak--the development thereof shady: in short, in the words of his own definition, "it was not playing the game." the worst of it was that he was indebted to blachland for more than one good turn, and now, what had been his requital for such? the other was his friend, and trusted him--and now, he had taken advantage of that friend's absence. in the unsparing light of early morning the thing had an ugly look--yes, very. as against that, however, other considerations would arise to set themselves. first of all, he himself was human, and human powers had their limits. then, again, the other did not in the least appreciate this splendid gift, this matchless treasure which had fallen to his lot: otherwise, how could he leave her all alone as he did, absent himself for days, for weeks at a time? he had not always done so, justin had gathered; and from hermia's reminiscences of camp life she seemed to have enjoyed it. if he, justin, had been in blachland's place, not for a single day should she have been away from him. but then, justin was very young, and all the circumstances and surroundings went to make him think that way. he had known these people for some months, but _of_ them he knew nothing. the hard, reticent, self-reliant up-country trader was not the man to make a confidant of one whom he regarded as a mere callow youth. but he had been very kind to justin, and had held out a helping hand to him on more than one occasion. hermia, for her part, had merely noted that the young man was very handsome and well set up, and that in about a week he was desperately in love with herself. there were two or three others of whom the latter held good, even in that remote region, but they awakened no reciprocal feeling in her. she would keep them dangling simply as a mere matter of habit; but justin spence had touched a responsive chord within her. it was one of a sheerly physical nature, but she had more and more grown to look forward to his visits, and we must admit that she had not long to look. the more he thought it over the less he liked it. he could not even lay the spurious balm to his soul that "every man for himself" was the maxim which justified everything--that the glorious fascinations of this woman went wholly unappreciated by the man who should have been the one of all others to prize them, and therefore were reserved and destined for another, and that himself. this sort of reasoning somehow would not do. it struck him as desperately thin in the cool judicial hour of waking. he had behaved shabbily towards blachland, and, the worst of it was, he knew he should go on doing so. and as though to confirm him in that conviction, at that moment the voice of the siren, clear but soft, was borne to his ears. what had become of all his misgivings now, as he sprang out of bed, his one and only thought that of joining her as soon as possible? the voice, however, was not addressed to him. it was merely raised in commonplace command to the small mashuna boys. what a lovely voice it was! he thought to himself, pausing to listen, lest the splashing of his tub should cause him to lose a tone of it: and he was right so far. hermia owned a beautiful speaking voice, and it constituted not the least of her fascinations. recklessly now justin cast his self-accusations to the winds. and hermia? well, she had none to cast. self-accusation was a phase of introspect in which she never indulged. why should she, when the rule of conduct on which she acted with a scrupulosity of observance worthy of a better cause, was "get all you can out of life, and while you can"? never a thought had she to waste on the absent. it was his fault that he was absent. never, moreover, a misgiving. yet when spence joined her there in the gateway of the stockade, the eager, happy glow in his face met with scant response in her own. she affected a reproachful tone and attitude. they had both done very wrong, it conveyed. it could not be helped now, but the least said, soonest mended. they had been very weak, and very foolish, but it must never occur again. and all the while she was killing herself in her efforts to restrain her laughter, for she fully intended that it should occur again--again and again--and that at no distant period: but she was going to keep her adorer's appreciation up to fever heat. to this intent, he must be kept well in hand at first. well, he was submissive enough even for her, and again she was convulsed with suppressed mirth, for she promised herself keen enjoyment watching his struggles to keep within the bounds of conventionality she had imposed upon him. the whirlings and buzzings of the impaled beetle of her childhood's days, as the luckless insect spun round and round in his efforts to free himself from the transfixing pin, were not in it with the fun held out to her by the writhings of this six-foot-one victim. and the sport was already beginning in his blank face and piteous tone. "no, i don't think you must even use my name, justin," she said, in wind-up of the programme she was laying before him as to his future rule of conduct. "you will be forgetting, and rapping it out when hilary is here." "what then? would he be very jealous?" returned the victim shortly, very sore with jealousy himself at this recalling of the absent one's existence. "perhaps. there's no telling," answered hermia, with a wholly enigmatical smile. she was thinking that here was a new and entertaining development of the situation. hilary jealous! heavens! that would be a feat to have accomplished. she did not believe him capable of any such foolish and youthful passion. and yet, if she misjudged him? and recognising such a possibility, a spice of fear came to season the excitement, only serving however to enhance its original zest. in the fair scene spread out before these two there was little enough to suggest the growlings and roarings of ravening beasts making terrible the dark night hours. the undulating roll of veldt, green after the recent rains, and radiant in the golden morning, sparkled with innumerable dewdrops. birds called cheerily; bird-wings glanced through the air in gorgeous colour and flash of sheeny streak; and the great granite kopjes to the westward, rising to the cloudless blue, seemed to tower twice their height in the shimmer and warmth of the newly risen sun. upon this lovely outlook one of the two was gazing with a moody brow and a heavy heart. suddenly he started. "who's this, i wonder?" he exclaimed, shading his eyes. a speck in the distance had arrested his attention--an approaching speck. it might have represented a horseman, almost certainly it did. "i believe it's blachland," went on spence. "i'll get the binocular, and see." the advancing object was hidden from sight as he dived into the house. but it reappeared about the same time he did. it now took shape as a horseman. "yes, it is blachland," he went on, the glasses at his eyes. "but he's all alone. where's his waggon and sybrandt? i wonder if--" and he broke off, looking somewhat anxiously at his companion as he finished the unspoken thought to himself. what if blachland were returning thus with a purpose--making a sort of surprise return? what if he had intended returning much earlier, but had miscalculated time and distance? what if he _had_ returned much earlier? oh, great heaven! and the thinker's countenance reflected the consternation of the thought. that of his companion, however, betrayed no responsive qualm. it was as serene and unruffled as though she had never beheld the man at her side until five minutes ago. "now, justin," she said, as they watched the approach of the horseman. "i want to give you a word of warning. first of all, you are not to greet him as if he had just risen from the dead, and you wish to goodness he hadn't. secondly, you are not to look at and talk to me in a sort of wistful and deathbed manner whenever you have occasion to look at and talk to me. remember, he's mighty sharp; i don't know any one sharper. come, brisk up, dear, and pull yourself together and be natural, or you'll give away the whole show." "that's the last sweet word i shall hear from you for a long time to come, i suppose," said justin, somewhat comforted. "but you didn't really mean all you were saying a little while ago? you're not really sorry?" "perhaps not," she answered softly. "perhaps we shall have good times again. only, be careful now. it all depends upon that." "oh, then i'll be careful enough, with that to look forward to," he returned, quite cheered up now. wherein her object was attained. to one of the two came a feeling of relief a moment after the new arrival had dismounted at the stockade, for his greeting was perfectly easy and natural and pleasant. "well, spence, you're out early," was all he said. out early. justin began to feel mean again. should he say he had been there all night? but hermia saved him the task of deciding by volunteering that information herself. she was not going to begin making mysteries. well, there was no occasion to. both forgot that the crucial moment was not entirely that of the greeting. the last hundred yards or so before dismounting had told hilary blachland all there was to tell. no--not quite all. "what have we got here?" said the returned master of the house, as, after a tub and a change of clothing, he sat at the head of his table. "guinea-fowl?" raising the dish-cover. "yes, justin shot five for me yesterday," answered hermia. "by the way, i am always calling him justin. `mr spence' is absurdly formal in this out-of-the-way part, and he is really such a boy. aren't i right, hilary?" "oh, certainly," was the reply, but the dry smile accompanying it might have meant anything. to himself the smiler was thinking, "so this is the latest, is it? what an actress she is, and that being so, i won't pay her the bad compliment of saying it's a pity she didn't go on the stage." justin didn't relish that definition of him; however, he recollected there was everything to console him for the apparent slight. and it was part of the acting. in fact, he was even conscious of being in a position to crow over the other, if the other only knew it, and though he strove hard to dismiss the idea, yet the idea was there. "by the way, blachland," he said, "how are things doing in matabeleland? niggers still cheeky?" "they're getting more out of hand than ever. in fact, you prospectors had better keep a weather eye open. and, hermia, i've been thinking things over, and i believe you'd better trek into fort salisbury." "is there going to be war then?" asked justin quickly, for the words were as a knell to his newly born fool's paradise. had he found hermia only to lose her immediately? "no, i'll stay on. i don't believe it'll be anything more than a scare," answered the latter with a light laugh. hilary blachland had been watching her, while not appearing to, watching them both. the start of consternation which escaped justin spence at the prospect of this separation had not escaped him. he noted, too, that beneath hermia's lightness of tone there lurked a shadowed anxiety. he was sharp, even as she herself had defined him--yes, he was decidedly sharp-witted was hilary blachland. chapter seven. a limed bird. "was the trip a success this time, hilary? and--where's mr sybrandt? didn't he come back with you?" "three questions at once. that's the feminine cross-examiner all over. well, it was and it wasn't. there was no doing any trade to speak of, and lo ben was in a very _snuffy_ mood. i found out a good deal that was worth finding out though. questions two and three. i left sybrandt half a day's trek the other side of the inpembisi river." "and do you think there is really any danger of war?" asked hermia. "i think you will be far safer away from here. so you had better go. i'm sending the waggon on to fort salisbury to-morrow." and again, without seeming to, his keen observant glance took in justin's face. "but i don't want to go, hilary, and i won't," was the answer. "i'm not in the least afraid, and should hate the bother of moving just now." "very well, please yourself. but don't blame me if you do get a scare, that's all." heavens! what a cold-blooded devil this was, justin spence was thinking. if hermia belonged to him, _he_ would not treat a question of peril and alarm to her as a matter of no particular importance as this one was doing. he would insist upon her removing to a place of safety; and, unable to restrain himself, he said something to that effect. he did not, however, get much satisfaction. his host turned upon him a bland inscrutable face. "perhaps you're right, spence. i shouldn't be surprised if you were," was all the reply he obtained. for hilary blachland was not the man to allow other people to interfere in his private affairs. "by the way, there are lions round here again," said hermia. "they were making a dreadful noise last night over in the kopjes. they seemed to have got in among a troop of baboons, and between the lions and the baboons the row was something appalling." "quite sure they were lions?" "of course they were. weren't they, justin?" "no sort of mistake about that," was the brisk reply. "well, i think they were lions too," went on blachland, "because the one i shot this morning might easily have been coming from this direction." "what?" cried spence. "d'you mean to say you shot a lion this morning?" "yes. just about daylight. and a fine big chap too." "and you never told us anything about it all this time!" blachland smiled. "well, you see, spence, it isn't my first, not by several. or possibly i might have ridden up at a hard gallop, flourishing my hat and hooraying," he said good-naturedly. but there was a grimness about the very good nature, decided spence. here was a man who had just shot a lion, and seem to think no more of the feat than if he had merely shot a partridge. he was conscious that he himself, under the same circumstances would have acted somewhat after the manner the other had described. "but how did you come upon him?" asked hermia, eagerly. "just after daylight. started to ride on ahead of the waggon. came to a dry drift; horse stuck short, refused to go down. snake, i thought at first; but no. on the opposite side a big lion staring straight at us, not seventy yards away. slipped from the gee, drew a careful bead, and let go. laid him out without a kick, bang through the skull. quite close to the waggon it was too. i left them taking off the skin. there! that's the waggon"--as the distant crack of a whip came through the clear morning air. "we'll go and look at it directly." "oh, well done!" cried hermia; and the wholly approving glance she turned upon the lion-slayer sent a pang of soreness and jealousy through justin spence. he began to hate blachland. that infernal assumption of indifference was really affectation--in short, the most objectionable form of "side." soon, the rumble of heavy wheels drew nearer, and, to the accompaniment of much whip-cracking, and unearthly and discordant yells, without which it seems impossible to drive a span of oxen, the waggon rolled up. it was drawn within the enclosure to be out-spanned. "you have got a small load this time," said hermia, surveying the great, cumbrous, weather-worn vehicle, with its carefully packed cargo, and hung about with pots and kettles and game horns, and every sort of miscellaneous article which it was not convenient to stow within. "ah, there's the skin. why, yes, hilary, it is a fine one!" the native servants gathered to admire the great mane and mighty paws there spread out, and many were the excited ejaculations and comments they fired off. the skin, being fresh, was unpleasantly gory--notably the hole made by the bullet where it had penetrated the skull. "what a neat shot!" exclaimed hermia, an expression of mingled admiration and disgust upon her face as she bent down to examine the huge head. was it a part of her scheme, or the genuine admiration of every woman for a feat of physical prowess, that caused her to turn to blachland with almost a proud, certainly an approving look? if the former, it served its purpose; for justin began to feel more jealous and sorer than ever. "_nkose_!" blachland turned. a native stood forth with uplifted hand, hailing him. he had seen this man among his servants, but did not choose to recognise him first. "oh, it is you, hlangulu?" he said, speaking in sindabele; which tongue is a groundwork of zulu overlaid with much sechuana and sesutu. "that is strange, for since you disappeared from our camp on the matya'mhlope, on the morning that we went to see the king, i have not set eyes on you." "_au_!" replied the man, with a half-smile, bringing his hand to his mouth in deprecatory gesture, "that is true, _nkose_. but the great great one required me to stand among the ranks of the warriors. now i am free once more, i would fain serve _nkose_ again." blachland looked musingly at him, but did not immediately reply. "i would fain serve a white man who can so easily slay a great thing like that," went on hlangulu. "take me, _nkose_. you will not find me useless for hunting, and i know of that as to which _nkose_ would like to know." blachland did not start at these last words, which were spoken with meaning, but he would have if his nerves had not long since been schooled to great self-control. for, remembering the subject under discussion the last time he had seen this man, whom they had all suspected of eavesdropping,--being moreover, accustomed to native ways of talking "dark," he had no doubt whatever as to the meaning intended to be conveyed. "sit still a while, hlangulu," he said. "i am not sure i have not servants enough. yet it may be that i can do with another for hunting purposes. i will think about it. here!"--and he handed him a stick of tobacco. "you are my father, _nkose_," replied the matabele, holding forth his joined hands to receive it. then he stepped back. "who is he, and what does he want, hilary?" said hermia, who had hardly understood a word of this colloquy; and the same held good of spence. "oh, he's a chap we had at bulawayo. wants to be taken on here. i think i'll take him." "i don't much like the look of him," pursued hermia, doubtfully. "i should hang him on sight, if i were the jury empanelled to try him," declared spence. but for all the notice he took of them, blachland might as well not have heard these remarks, for he busied himself giving directions to his "boys," relating to the preparation of the lion's skin, and a dozen other matters. leaving him to this, the other two strolled back to the house. "i'm going home directly, hermia," said spence, with a bitter emphasis on the word "home." "i rather think i'm the third who constitutes a crowd." "how can you talk like that, after--" and she broke off suddenly. "still, i think i'll go, darling. but--are you really going away--to salisbury?" "no. but you've got too speaking a face, justin dear. why on earth did you look so dismal and blank when he said that?" "because i couldn't help it, i suppose." "but you've got to help it. see here now, justin, i can't keep you in leading-strings. you are such a great baby, you have no control over yourself. you're quite big enough, and--" "ugly enough? yes, go on." "no, the other thing--only i'm spoiling you too much, and making you abominably conceited. now come in, and give me just one little kiss before you start, and then i think you really had better go." "promise me you won't go away without letting me know," he urged, when the above-named process--which, by the way, was not of such very diminutive proportions as she had suggested--had been completed. outside, blachland's voice directing the native servants was plainly audible. "yes, i promise. now, go and say good-bye, and get your horse. no, not `one more.' do be a little prudent." "eh? want to saddle up, spence?" said blachland, as justin went over to where he was occupied. "all right. i say, though, excuse me; i really am rather busy. come along, and we'll get out your horse. have a drink before you start." "thanks awfully, blachland, i've just had one. good-bye, old chap, don't bother to come to the stable. good-bye." the other took a side glance at his retreating guest. "he's flurried," he said to himself. "these callow cubs don't know how to play the game. they do give it away so--give it away with both hands." then he went on tranquilly with what he was doing. he did not even go to the gate to see spence off. he simply took him at his word. in social matters, hilary blachland was given to taking people at their word. if they didn't know their own minds, not being infants or imbeciles, that wasn't his affair. then his thoughts were diverted into another channel, and this was effected by the sight of hlangulu. the matabele was standing around, lending a hand here or there whenever he saw an opportunity. for some reason of his own he seemed anxious to be kept on there. that he would be of no use at all as a farm servant was obvious, equally so that he had no ambition to fill that _role_. the rather mysterious words he had uttered could refer to but one thing; namely, the exceedingly dangerous and apparently utterly profitless scheme talked over by the camp fire on the matya'mhlope, and which there could be no doubt whatever but that he had overheard. that being so, was not blachland indeed in this man's power? turning it over in his mind, blachland could see two sides to the situation. either hlangulu designed to render him a service, and, incidentally, one much greater to himself--or his intent was wholly sinister, to set a trap for him to wit. he looked at hlangulu. the matabele's aspect was not prepossessing. it was that of a tall, gaunt native, with a sinister cast of countenance, never entirely free from something of a scowl,--in fact, an evil and untrustworthy rascal if appearances counted for anything at all. he tried to think whether he had ever given this man cause to harbour a grudge against him, and could recall nothing of the kind; but he did remember that hlangulu was a clever and skilful hunter. perhaps, after all, he had really gained the man's respect, and, to a certain extent, his attachment. he would keep him, at any rate for a while, but--would watch him narrowly. "hlangulu," he called. "go now and hurry on the herd of trade cattle. it should have been done before this." "_nkose_!" and with this one word of salute the man started on his errand, not asking where the object thereof was to be found, where it had been last seen or anything. all of which was not lost upon blachland. decidedly he would keep hlangulu, he told himself. chapter eight. "merely spence." "so that's your latest, is it, hermia?" the remark was inconsequent, in that it came on top of nothing at all. the time was the cool of the evening, and blachland, lying back in a deep cane chair, was lazily puffing out clouds of smoke. he had not been talking much, and what little he had said consisted of a few drowsy remarks about nothing in particular. now, after an interval of silence, came the above inconsequent one. "my latest! who and what on earth are you talking about, hilary?" "merely spence." "oh, is that all? he's such a nice boy, though, isn't he?" "candidly, he's only like thirty-nine out of forty, colourless." "how can you say that, hilary? why, he's awfully handsome." "oh, i wasn't referring to externals, i mean the more important side of him; and--there's nothing in him." hermia made no reply, she only smiled; but the smile was meant to convey that she knew better. nothing in him! wasn't there? if hilary only knew? truth to tell, however, she was a little relieved. this was the first reference he had made to the subject, and his silence all these hours had rendered her uneasy. what if he suspected? now he seemed to drop it as though it were not worth pursuing. she, however, paradoxically enough, intended to let him know that it was. could she not make him just one atom jealous? "poor fellow, he's so lonely over at his camp," she pursued. "it does him good to come over here now and then." "who?" said blachland. his mind was running on the subject of umzilikazi's grave, and the trustworthiness or the reverse of hlangulu. "who? why, justin of course. weren't we talking about him?" "were--yes, that's it. we were, but i had forgotten all about him, and was thinking of something totally different. what were you saying? that he was lonely in camp? well, that's very likely; but then, you see, it's one of the conditions attendant upon prospecting. and he may as well chuck prospecting if he's going to spend life galloping over here." thought hermia to herself, "he is a little jealous after all." the other went on: "he's lonely in camp, and you're lonely here. that's about the british of it; eh, hermia?" "well, can you wonder? here i am, left all by myself to get through time as best i can. how long have you been away this time? four weeks?" "just under. and this was a short trip. it is hard lines, rather; but then, you always knew what life up here was going to mean. you did it with your eyes open." "it is mean of you to throw it at me. i never thought you would have done it," she flashed. "throw what? oh, i see. i wasn't referring to--that. you might as well give me the benefit of the doubt, hermia. you ought to know that i was referring to our coming out here at all. we might have gone anywhere else, so it wasn't england." she looked down at him as he sat there, for she was standing, or restlessly moving about. how cool and passionless he was now, she thought. he had not always been so. decidedly he was tired of her. she could not help drawing a mental contrast between him and the other. the countenance of this one, with its well-cut features, but lined and weather-worn, dark and bronzed by sun and exposure, was indeed a contrast to that of the other, in its smooth, clear-skinned blue-eyed comeliness of youth. yet, this one, sitting there, strong, reposeful-looking in his cool white raiment was, and would always be, _the_ one when she came to pass in review her polyandrous experiences. now his very tranquillity, indifference she called it, nettled her. at any other time, indeed, it would have served as a powerful draw in keeping her to him; now however, the entirely fresh excitement she had struck formed an effective counterblast. if he was tired of her, she would let him see that she was even more tired of him, whether she was so or not. "to revert to spence," he said. "what pleasure can it give you to make a bigger fool of the young idiot than his parents and nature have already made him?" "he isn't at all a fool," snapped hermia, shortly. "not eh? well, everything is relative, even in terminology. we'll call him not so wise as some other people, if you prefer it. if he was as wise, he might be over head and ears in love with you without giving it away at every turn--in fact, thrusting it into the very face of the ordinary observer." "why, hilary, you really are jealous!" she cried with a ringing laugh. for a moment, however, she had looked perturbed. "ha, ha! that's good--distinctly good. jealous! there is, or ought to be, no such thing, once past the callowness of youth. the self-respect of any man should be above whining to any one woman because she prefers somebody else. the mere fact of her doing so renders her utterly valueless in his sight there and then." "you don't really mean that, hilary?" she said. "you're only just talking, you know." "try it and see." his eyes were full on hers. for the life of her, she could not as straightly meet that straight, firm glance. this was the only man she had never been able to deceive. others she could hoodwink and fool at will, this one never. so, with a light laugh, with a shade of nervousness in it that would have been patent to an even less acute faculty of perception than his, she rejoined-- "well, you're out of it this time, hilary. justin isn't in love with me at all. why, it's ridiculous!" she turned away uneasily. for he knew that she was lying, and she knew that he did. "one moment, hermia," he called out to her. she paused. "while we are on the subject: are you not getting a little tired of--our partnership?" "why?" "i've seen symptoms of it lately, and i don't think i'm mistaken. because, if you are, say so squarely and openly. it'll be much better in the long run." "i think you are tired of it," she flashed. "i suppose you have a lot of black wives over yonder, like that disgusting old pemberton and young. that's why you're so fond of going into the matabele country, and leaving me all alone for weeks." "apparently you know more about pemberton's and young's conjugal arrangements than i do, but let me assure you you're utterly wrong in your estimate of mine." "i don't believe it. you are all of you alike, once you take to going among those beastly natives." "you don't believe it? that i can't help, so there it stays. and now i've lazed long enough, i must rustle about and see to things." left there, hermia watched his tall form, like a pillar of white, wending up the low kopje at the back of the stockade. he had become very reserved, very self-contained and inscrutable of late; so much so indeed, that it was almost impossible to gauge how much he knew or suspected. now she felt uneasy, uncomfortable with a dim consciousness of having come off second best in the recent cut and thrust. well, perhaps he was right. she was tired of the existing state of affairs-- perhaps a trifle tired of him. and he? the kopje up which he had taken his way, ascended by an easy acclivity to a point which commanded an immense view to the south and westward. range upon range of rolling slope and wooded ridge lay there outspread--vast and scarcely inhabited country, a land given over to wild game and a few shrinking, starving remnants of tribes living in daily fear of the sweep of the terrible matabele besom. the evening was still, and golden, and beautiful, and, seated under a mahobo-hobo tree, blachland lit his pipe, and began to think out the position. so hermia was tired of their life together! he had seen it coming on, and at first the knowledge had caused him some concern. he contrasted the lives of other pioneers, living all alone, or in native fashion, with two or three dusky-hued daughters of the land, in rough, uncivilised manner, growing more and more into the happy-go-lucky, soulless simplicity of life of the barbarous aborigines themselves,-- contrasted them with the life he himself led, its comfort, and refined companionship, and, until lately, love,--and, doing so, a qualm of regret tinged his mind. it was evanescent however. for he himself was growing tired of this mode of life. he had embarked on it when he and hermia had reckoned the world well lost for each other's sake. now, neither of them so reckoned any more; nay, further, to be perfectly candid with themselves, they wondered how they ever could have. why not leave it then, move to some more cheerful and civilised quarter of the globe? to do so would be tantamount to leaving each other. hermia had taxed him with being jealous, and he had replied, and rightly, that he was past the capacity for any such foolishness. but he had no intention of remaining her dupe. that he had ample cause for jealousy in the matter just under discussion, he was well aware; but that was nothing to what he would meet with should they return to civilisation together. she could no more cleave to one, and one only, than she could fly over the moon. they had better part. over the vast roll of country beneath, stretching away into misty dimness, his glance swept. how would he take to civilisation again? the old restlessness would come upon him. the wandering up-country life had got into his system. the other kind, too, was not so very great as to lure him back to it either. he supposed he had made a mess of things. well, most people did one way and another, and it couldn't be helped. up the slope, through the sparse bushes, a herd of cattle was threading--his cattle; and in the tall dark form of their driver he recognised hlangulu, the matabele. mechanically, however, he took in this while his thoughts reverted to their former train. would they miss each other? he wondered; or, rather, would he miss hermia? that she would hardly waste a regret on him he knew, for he had long since discovered the shallow emptiness of her nature, and that what he had at one time taken for depth was the mere frenzied abandonment of a passing passion, wholly unrestrained and absorbing for the time being; but now, and indeed long since, burnt out. turning, he looked back on the group of primitive buildings within the protecting stockade, his home. a stillness and peace seemed to brood over it in the evening light. he could make out hermia's form crossing a section of the enclosure. he thought of the years they had been together. had those years been happy? well, hardly. disillusionment had not been long in coming, and with its growth their brief and spurious happiness had faded. they did not quarrel, but it was a case of mutual toleration. and now, at last, he had returned one fine day to recognise that his place was filled by another. decidedly the time had come for them to part. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "_nkose_!" blachland looked up. his meditations must have run on, for the utterer of this sonorous salutation was he who, but a moment ago it seemed, was right away down there driving the cattle, yet he had had time to take them borne and return here himself. "what is it, hlangulu?" the man dropped down into a squatting attitude, and began to talk. blachland, who understood natives, let him run on about nothing in particular--the state of the country, the new settlements of the pioneers, the king, the decreasing of the game, and so forth,--for he knew something was coming. presently it came. "_nkose_ is even as umlimo. the dark mysteries of the great bold no terrors for him?" "not any," was the laconic reply. "yet it is certain death to look into such." "death is certain, but the time of death, never. i have looked at `certain death' before, yet here i am." "_au_, _nkose_! what you desire is not possible, save by one way." "and that way?" "is known to me alone." "and you are going to make it known to me. now, hlangulu, men are men, and men have motives. why are you going to do this?" "what is that which is most desired by all white men, _nkose_?" "gold." "_yeh-bo, nkose_, and by black ones, too, if with it they can buy cattle and wives. _hau_! in the abode of the mighty dead there is much of it." blachland didn't start, but his nerves were all a thrill. the man's words were plain enough. a quantity of treasure had been buried with the dead king. that was the interpretation. "is the gold like this, hlangulu?" he said, producing a sovereign. "_eh-he, nkose_!" assented the matabele. "it is in a bag, so high,"-- holding his hand about a couple of feet from the ground. then they talked, the white man and the savage,--talked long and earnestly. the superstitions of the latter precluded him from going near the dreaded sepulchre, let alone entering it. but for the former no such barrier existed. hlangulu knew a way of getting him through the pickets: then he could accomplish a double purpose, explore the interior of the king's grave, and bring away the concealed wealth which lay there; and this they would share equally. it was quite dark when they separated: blachland all braced up by the prospect of a new and interesting adventure, which, coming when it did, was peculiarly welcome; hlangulu to dream of an idyllic existence, in some far-away land where lo bengula's arm could not reach, where he could sit in his kraal and count his vast herds of cattle, and buy wives, young and new, whenever inclined. chapter nine. a weird quest. away among the masses of the wonderful matopo range. huge granite piles rearing up skyward in every varied form of bizarre delineation, like the mighty waves of an angry sea suddenly petrified, the great flow of fallen stones covering the entire slope like the inflow of surf upon a slanting shore; the scanty trees, and tall, knife-edged tambuti grass in the valley bottoms, like seaweed in the rainy moisture of the dusking evening. then a blue gleam of lightning along the grim granite faces; and a dull boom, re-echoed again and again as the thunder-peal is tossed from crag to crag in a hundred deep-toned reverberations. standing just within their ample shelter--which is formed by the overhang of a great boulder--blachland gazes forth upon the weird and awe-inspiring solitude. opposite, a huge castellated rock, many hundreds of feet in height, balances on its summit a mighty slab, which it seems would need but the touch of a finger to send crashing into the valley beneath; then a ridge of tumbled boulders; further down another titanic pile, reft clean through the centre by a chasm, in whose jaws is gripped tight the enormous wedge of stone which seems to have split it: and so on, till the eye is tired and the mind overawed by the stupendous grimness of these dante-esque heights and valleys. the adventure is in full swing now. blachland and his strange guide have been out several days, travelling when possible only at night, and then keeping to the hills as much as practicable. and now they are nearing their goal. and, looking at it calmly, it is a strange adventure indeed, almost an aimless one. the story of the buried gold blachland is inclined to scout utterly. but no amount of questioning will shake the faith of his guide, and so, at last, he has come to believe in it himself. indeed, otherwise, what motive would hlangulu have for aiding and abetting that which, in his eyes, was nothing more nor less than a monstrous piece of sacrilege? he knew that savages are the most practical of mortals, and that it is entirely outside their code of ethics to go to a vast deal of trouble and risk without the prospect of adequate and substantial advantage to be gained thereby. it had occurred to him that there might be another motive, and a sinister one. hlangulu might be decoying him into the most out-of-the-way recesses of matabeleland in order to make away with him treacherously; and the idea was not a pleasant one, in that, however on the alert he might be, there must always be times when a crafty and determined foe could strike him down when off his guard. but here, again, motive counted for something, and here, again, motive utterly failed, as we have said. he could not call to mind that hlangulu had the faintest occasion to owe him any sort of a grudge, and, even if it were so, he would not go to work in any such roundabout fashion to pay it. there was nothing for it but to set the whole thing down to its real motive, cupidity to wit. to this had succeeded another idea. what if this concealed gold were really there, and be succeeded in obtaining it? it was then that he would have to watch his guide and companion with a jealous eye. for the whole is greater than the half, and would this covetous savage remain content with the half? he resolved to keep his eyes very wide open indeed, during the return journey. the return journey! it was rather early to think about that, for the perils of the enterprise were only about to begin. turning back within their shelter now, he proceeded to question hlangulu, who was squatting against a rock, smoking a pipe--to question him once more as to the surroundings of the king's grave. but the man's answers were mere reiterations of all that he had said before. they would soon be within touch of the guards whom, in the ordinary way, it would be impossible to pass. the snake? yes, there was no doubt but that it was the _itongo_, or ghost of the great great one who sat there. many had seen it. he, hlangulu, had seen it twice, and had retreated, covering his face, and calling out the _sibonga_ of the dead king. it was an immense black _mamba_, and had been seen to go in and out of the grave. it was as long and again half as long as isipau himself, he declared, looking blachland up and down. the latter, remembering sybrandt's narrative, concluded that there was something decidedly creepy in bearding a particularly vicious and deadly species of serpent within a narrow cleft of rock, the beast being about nine feet long at that--which is what hlangulu's estimate would make it. under any circumstances it would be bad enough, but now with all the grim and eerie adjuncts thrown in, why the whole scheme seemed to bristle with peril. and what was there to gain by it? well, the gold. it must not be supposed, however, that the idea of obtaining this was cherished without a qualm. did not the whole thing look uncommonly like an act of robbery, and the meanest kind of robbery too--the robbery of a grave? the gold was not his. it had been put there by those to whom it belonged. what right to it had he? as against this he set the fact that it was lying there utterly useless to any living soul; that if he did not take it, somebody else would; that the transfer of the whole of the matabeleland to the british flag was only a question of time, and that, during the war which should be necessary to bring about this process, others would come to hear of this buried wealth, or light on it by chance, and then, would they be more scrupulous? not one whit. it will be remembered that he was all eagerness to effect this weird exploration even before he had the faintest inkling that the place concealed, or might conceal, anything more valuable than a few mouldering relics--a few trumpery articles of adornment, perhaps, which might be worth bringing away as curios. yet, strange as it may seem, his later knowledge scarcely added to that eagerness. a curious trait in hilary blachland's character was a secret horror of one day failing in nerve. he could recall at least one experience in his life when this had happened to him, and that at a critical juncture, and it had left an impression on him which he had never forgotten. there were times when it haunted him with a ghostlike horror, and under its influence he would embark in some mad and dare-devil undertaking, utterly inconsequent because utterly without rhyme, reason, or necessity. it was as though he were consumed with a feverish desire to cultivate a reputation for intrepidity, though, as a matter of actual fact, his real motive was to satisfy himself on the point. as a matter of actual fact, too, he was as courageous as the average, and possessed of more than the average amount of resolution. "we should be starting," said hlangulu, coming to the entrance of their shelter, and sending a scrutinising look at the sky. "the rain has stopped, and the clouds will all blow apart. then there will be a moon. we shall arrive there before daybreak." and, without waiting for the other's consent or comment, he dived within again, and began putting together the few things they carried. one can travel light on such a march, provided the wayfarer makes up his mind, and that rigidly, to take nothing along that is not strictly and absolutely necessary. to this rule the strangely assorted pair had adhered, so that the time taken to get under way was no longer than that required to saddle blachland's horse. hlangulu's prediction was verified, for in less than half an hour the clouds had parted in all directions, revealing the depths of the blue-black vault all spangled with gushing stars--and lo, a silver crescent moon flooded the sombre valleys and fantastic crags with her soft light. it was a strange and eerie march through that grim wilderness in the hush of the silent night--a silence, broken now and again by mysterious cries as of bird or beast--the effect heightened by the varying echo from cave or crag. an ant-bear, looking like a great bald pig in the magnifying moonlight, scuttled across their path. a strange variety of nightjar flitted overhead, looking something between a butterfly and a paper kite; or a troop of baboons, startled suddenly from their feast of roots, would skip hurriedly out of the way, their dark, gnome-like shapes glancing through the long grass as they sought refuge among the granite crags, there to bark loud and excited defiance after the disturbers. these, however, took no notice, intent only on getting forward. they were safe here from the one great object of their apprehension, their fellow-man--as yet: the point was to cover all the ground possible while such immunity was still theirs. the matabele led the way in long wiry strides--the horseman following. as a matter of precaution, the horse's shoes had been removed; for the clink of a shod hoof travels far, at night, in uninhabited solitudes, or, for the matter of that, even by day. during the long night march, blachland's thoughts were busy, and they were mainly concerned with the events of the three or four days during which he had been making up his mind to this undertaking; with the parting with hermia, and with the future. she had not accepted the position quietly, and, a rare thing with her, had treated him to rather a stormy scene. he had only just returned after a long absence, she declared, and now was anxious to start off again. assuredly he was tired of her--or was it that her suspicions were correct, and that he had a kraal of his own in matabeleland, like that horrid old pemberton and other traders? ah well, if he was tired of her, there might be other people who were not perhaps. if he did not appreciate her, there might be other people who did. "meaning, for present purposes, spence," he had rejoined, but without heat. "well, you are old enough and experienced enough to know where your own interests lie, and so it is superfluous for me to remind you," he had added. and so they had parted with but scant affection; and it might well be, remembering the perilous nature of his present undertaking, never to behold each other again. a short off-saddle, about midnight, relieved the march. at length, in the black hour succeeding the setting of the moon, hlangulu called a halt. "we must leave the horse here," he said. "we can hide him in yonder cleft until to-morrow night. it will not be safe to ride him any further, isipau. look!" the other had already beheld that to which his attention was now directed. for a dull glow arose upon the night, and that at no great distance ahead: a glow as of fires. and, in fact, such it was; for it was the glow of the watch-fires of one of the armed pickets, guarding, day and night, the approaches to the sacred neighbourhood of the king's grave. chapter ten. umzilicazi's grave. the huge granite pile loomed forth overhead, grim, frowning, indistinct. then, as the faint streak in the blackness of the eastern horizon banded into red width, the outlines of the great natural mausoleum stood forth clearer and clearer. blachland's pulses beat hard, as he stood gazing. at last he had reached the goal of his undertaking--at last he stood upon the forbidden ground. the uneasy consciousness that discovery meant death--death, moreover, in some barbarous and lingering form--was hardly calculated to still his bounding pulses. he stood there alone. hlangulu had come as near as he dared, and, with the minutest instructions as to the nearest and safest approach, had hidden to await his return. how they had eluded the vigilance of the pickets our explorer hardly knew. he called to mind, however, a moment which, if not the most exciting moment of his life, at any rate brought him within as grim a handshaking proximity to certain death as he had ever yet attained. for, at the said moment, hlangulu had drawn him within a rock cleft--and that with a quick muscular movement which there was neither time nor opportunity to resist, but which, a second later, there was no inclination to, as he beheld--they both beheld--a body of matabele warriors, fully armed, and seeming to rise out of nowhere, pass right over the very spot just occupied by themselves. he could see the markings of the hide shields, could even make out the whites of rolling eyeballs in the starlight, as the savages flitted by and were gone. but would they return? had the sound of strange footsteps reached their ears, and started them in search? assuredly, if hilary blachland stood in need of a new and intense excitement, he had got it now. but a barely breathed inquiry met for some time with no response from his guide, who at length rose up and declared that they must push on. and now here he stood alone. before him two massive granite faces arose, leaning forward, as it were, until their overhanging brows nearly met the topmost boughs of a solitary _kafferboen_ which grew out of the ground fronting the entrance at a distance of some yards. over the angle formed by these an immense boulder was balanced, in such wise as to form a huge natural porch; but in continuation of the angle was a deft, a tall narrow deft, the entrance to which was roughly built up with stones. this, then, was the king's grave. the dawn was rapidly lightening. there was no time to lose. he must enter at once, and there remain throughout the entire day. only in the darkness could he enter, only in the darkness could he leave it. as he climbed up on the embankment of stones, one, loosened by his tread, dislodged another. heavens! what a clatter they made, or seemed to make, in the dead stillness. then he set his teeth hard, stifling a groan. the falling stone had struck his ankle, bruising it sharply and causing intense pain. for a moment he paused. could he climb any further? it seemed to have lamed him. then somehow there came back to him old pemberton's words: "there's no luck meddling with such places-- no, none." well, there seemed something in it, and if his ill-luck began here what was awaiting him when he should have effected his purpose? but he had professed himself above such puerile superstitions, and now was the time to make good his professions. besides, it was too late to draw back. if he were not under concealment within a moment or so, his peril would be of a more real and material order. so, summoning all his coolness and resolution, exercising the greatest care, he climbed over the remaining stones and dropped down within the cleft. and now he forgot the pain of his contused ankle, as, full of interest he stood within this wonderful tomb. but for a very slight trend the cleft ran inward straight to a depth of some forty or fifty feet, its sides, straight and smooth, rising to nearly the same height; and at the further end, which narrowed somewhat, ere terminating abruptly in the meeting of the two titanic boulders which caused it, he could make out something which looked like a heap, an indefinable heap, of old clothes. blachland paused. here, then, was the object of his exploration. here, then, lay the mouldering remains of the dead king, and here lay the buried gold. drawing his flask from his pocket, he took a nip to steady his nerves before beginning his search. before beginning it, however, some impulse moved him to glance forth once more upon the outside world. the sun had not yet risen, but the land lay revealed in the pearly dawn. there was the rough, long, boulder-strewn ridge, continuing away from this great natural tumulus which dominated it. away over the valley, the bushy outline of the intaba inyoka stood humped against the suffusing sky; but what drew and held his gaze was a kind of natural platform, immediately below, part rock, part soil. this, however, lay black amid the surrounding green--black as though through the action of fire; but its blackness was strangely relieved, chequered, by patches of white. he recognised it for the spot described by sybrandt and also by hlangulu--the place where cattle were sacrificed at intervals to the shades of the departed king. something else caught his eye, something moving overhead. heavens! the great boulder, overhanging like a penthouse, was falling--falling over! in a moment he would be shut in, buried alive in this ghastly tomb. appalled, he gazed upwards, his eyes straining on it, and then he could have laughed aloud, for the solution was simple. a light breeze had sprung and up, the topmost boughs of the _kafferboen_, swaying to its movement, were meeting the boulder, then swinging away again, producing just that curious and eerie effect to one in a state of nervous tension. he stood watching this optical delusion, and laughed again. decidedly his nerves were overstrung. well, this would not do. facing once more within the cave, he concluded to start upon his research without further delay. it was lighter now--indeed, but for the chastened gloom of the interior, nearly as light as it ever would be. he approached the farther end. mouldering old blankets crumbled under his tread. he could see the whole of the interior, and again he laughed to himself--recalling the legend of the king's snake. there was no recess that would hide so much as a mouse. he scattered the fragments of old clothing with the stock of his rifle, laying bare layers of crumbling matting. more eagerly still he parted these when he came to the central heap. layer by layer, he tore away the stuff-ancient hide wrappings, ornamented with worn bead-work--beneath the mats of woven grass; then something white appeared--white, and smooth, and round. eagerly, yet carefully, he parted the wrappings; and lo, protruding from them--not lying, but in a bolt-upright position--a great grinning skull! he stepped back a pace or two, and stood gazing at this with intense interest, not unmixed with awe. here, then, sat the dead king-- umzilikazi, the mighty; the founder of a great and martial nation; the scourge, the devastator of a vast region,--here he sat, the warrior king, before whose frown tens of thousands had trembled, a mere framework of fleshless bones, seated upon his last throne, here, within the heart of this vast silent rock-tomb: and the upright position of the skull, caused by the sitting attitude in which zulus are buried, seemed to lend to the death's head something of the majesty which it had worn in life when its cavity had enclosed the indomitable and far-seeing brain, when those eye-sockets had framed the relentless, terrible eyes. for some moments he stood gazing upon the grim face staring at him from its sightless sockets, and then, not in mockery, but moved by certain poetic instincts underlying a highly imaginative temperament, he raised his right hand, and uttered softly-- "kumalo!" yes, even as he would have saluted the living, so he saluted the remains of the dead king. yet he had already violated and was here to plunder the dead king's grave. what was this? something glistening among the rotting heap of wrappings caught his eye. bending down, he raised it eagerly. it was a large bead about the size of a marble. two more lay beside them, the remnant of the leather lanyard on which they had been threaded, crumbling to his touch. gold, were they? they were of solid weight. but a quick close examination convinced him that they were merely brass. anyway, they would make valuable curios, and he slipped them into his pocket accordingly. again he could not restrain a start as he raised his eyes. the skull when last he beheld it, of a dull, yellowy white in the deep shadows of the gloomy place was now shining like fire as it glowered at him, suffused as with a reddening incandescent glow. a wave of superstitious awe thrilled him from head to heel. what on earth did it mean? and then the real reason of this startling metamorphosis came home to him. the sun had risen. high above through a chink between the huge boulders right over the entrance of the cleft, one single spear-like beam found entrance, and, piercing the gloomy shadows of the tomb, struck full upon the fleshless countenance of the dead king, illuminating it with a well-nigh supernatural glow; and with the clearing up of the mystery, the spectator was lost in admiration of the ingenuity that had contrived that the first ray of the rising sun should illuminate the countenance of the great great one, whom while living they hailed, among other titles of honour, as "light of the sun." then he remembered that the coincidence was purely accidental, for he himself had uncovered the skull and exposed it to view, and the illusion vanished. and as he gazed, the beam was withdrawn, leaving the death's head in its former shadow. leaning back against the rock wall, blachland began to attune himself to the situation. at last he had explored the king's grave, he, all by himself. what a laugh he would have over sybrandt and pemberton bye-and-bye--they who had scouted the feat as utterly impossible. well, he had done it, he alone, had done what no white man had ever done before him--what possibly no white man would ever do again. and--it was intensely interesting. and now, what about the buried treasure? he had all through been sceptical as to the existence of this, but had not insisted on his scepticism to hlangulu, lest he might cool that acquisitive savage off the undertaking. the latter's reply to his question as to how it was that others were not now in the know as well as he--that the matter was _hlonipa_, i.e. veiled, forbidden of mention--had not struck him as satisfactory. well, as he was here he might as well take a thorough look round and make sure. acting upon this idea he once more approached the skeleton of the dead king, but a careful search all around it revealed nothing. all around it? not quite, for he had not tried behind it. there was a dark recess extending perhaps three or four yards behind it--to where the cleft ended, and this too, seemed spread with old and mouldering wrappings. these he began, as with the others, raking aside with the butt of his rifle. then, suddenly his foothold began to tremble--then to move violently from under him. was there no end to the weird surprises of this uncanny place, was the thought that flashed lightning-like through his mind; and then, as with a superlative effort he just managed to keep his footing--while staggering back a few paces, there befel something so appalling that his blood seemed to run ice within him, and the very hair of his head to stand up. chapter eleven. the king's snake. a loud, awful hiss of ear-splitting stridency--and simultaneously there shot up, from the very ground as it were, a long, writhing, sinuous length of black neck, glistening as the half light played upon it-- swaying in the gloom of the recess. it was surmounted by a horrible head, with two scintillating eyes. the forked tongue was darting in and out between the widely parted fangs, as the head, waving to and fro was suddenly drawn back as if to strike. and the man had been actually standing upon the hidden coils of this huge and terrible reptile. for a moment blachland stood as one petrified, as well he might be by the awfulness and suddenness of this blasting apparition. then, instinctively, he drew his revolver, as being more sure at close quarters than the rifle, the while stepping back cautiously, and keeping his face turned to the reptile. the fury of the latter seemed in no wise to diminish. hissing hideously, its eyes glared, as more and more of its horrible length rose into view, and the further floor of the cave heaved and trembled with the still concealed coils. blachland had now drawn back as far as he could, short of clambering out of the place altogether, and, his blood all curdling with horror and dread, he stood watching the monster with a kind of fell fascination. he dared not fire. the cavernous echoes of the report would go booming forth over all the land so to say, and bring an entire hornet's nest about his ears from which there would be no escape. the king's snake! he recalled the utter derision wherewith he had received sybrandt's statement on the subject--and yet it was only too fearfully true. a black _imamba_, sybrandt had said, and this was one, and an enormous one at that. he knew, moreover, that this species was the most deadly and ferocious of serpents. no, he would stay here no longer--not another moment. better meet death a hundred times in the ordinary way at the hand of enemies in the open, than remain here, shut up in a charnel house, with this awful black fiend. acting on this idea, he began to feel for a firm hold of the stone parapet, intending to spring out quickly and at all risks, but still keeping his eyes on the reptile. it, strange to say, still remained where it was, just behind the skeleton of the king, and though still hissing furiously, made no movement forward to attack him. encouraged by this, he got a firm grip on the topmost stone, and hoisted himself carefully up. then he let himself down again. for simultaneously with the appearance of his head above the stones, a shout had broken forth from beneath, then another and another. his presence there had been discovered. well, he had a choice of two deaths, both equally horrible. was there not a third, however, which was less so? there was. he might blow out his own brains. that would be quicker at any rate. but almost immediately upon the idea came the consciousness that these were no hostile shouts that rose booming, full-voiced, to raise the echoes of the king's grave. "_kumalo! ho, inyoka 'nkulu! ho, inyoka 'mninimamdhla! bayete_!" [see note .] with a flash of returning hope, blachland peered forth, trusting to the combined effect of distance and shadow, to render his head invisible from below. two men were standing on the flat place beneath--where lay the heaps of charred bones--two old men, with right hand uplifted and facing the tomb--and he recognised one as umjane, a favourite and trusted councillor of lo bengula's, the other as faku, the old induna who had intervened when the warriors were clamouring to be allowed to massacre the four white men on the occasion of their last visit to the king. now they were here to give the _nbonga_ at the grave of umzilikazi, and the listener's heart sank again, for he had heard that this was a process which sometimes lasted for hours. but, as though in compensation, he noticed that the snake had abated its fury. it had dropped its hideous head, and lay there, in a shining, heaving coil as the sonorous chant proceeded: "_ho, inyoka 'mnyama! nkos' inyoka! inyoka-ka-matyobane! ho, inyoka yise wezulu! bayete_!" [see note .] strophe by strophe, in a sort of antiphonal fashion, the two old indunas continued this weird litany of the snake. then they changed to every kind of other title of _sibonga_, but always returning to the subject of the serpent. but the strange part of it to the human listener, was the calming effect it seemed to have upon the black horror, then but a few yards off--for the brute quieted down more and more as the voices outside were raised higher. what on earth could be the reason, thought blachland? there was an idea abroad that reptiles were susceptible to music, but even if such were the case, this monotonous unvarying intonation, never exceeding three notes, was not music. could it be that in reality the spirit of the dead king was transmigrated into that serpent form? and again he recalled old pemberton's rough and ready words:--"there's mighty rum things happen you can't explain nor scare up any sort of reason for." what if this were one of them? and with the idea, and aided by time and place, a kind of superstitious dread began to steal over him with paralysing effect. the white skull, staring at him in the semi-gloom, seemed to take on a fell and menacing expression, and the fleshless face to frown; and beyond it the gliding restless heave of the glistening coils, its terrible serpent guardian. the chant continued--on and on--now falling, then rising, with renewed attributes to the spirit of the mighty dead. the two old indunas were walking to and fro now, and it seemed that each was striving to outdo the other in inventing fresh titles of praise. and what of the hidden gold? not for all the wealth this world could produce would blachland have meddled further with the mysteries of this gruesome tomb. his sole aspiration now was for an opportunity of getting outside of it, and slipping away in safety. of this, however, there seemed but small prospect. hours seemed to have gone by, and yet these two indefatigable old men showed no sign of bringing their loyal, if posthumous, performance to a close. then a change came over the aspect of affairs, but was it a change for the better? a party of warriors had appeared a little way behind them. they advanced to the edge of the platform of rock and soil whereon the two indunas were walking up and down--then, at a sign from these, drew nearer. their assegais flashed in the sunlight: the shiny faces of their hide shields, too, caught the gleam. then all weapons were let fall as with right hand upraised the new comers with one voice uttered aloud the salute royal:-- "kumalo!" and now the watcher became aware of something else. in the midst of the new comers were three black heifers. these were dragged forward on to the sacrifice ground--and thrown down. they bellowed and struggled, but in vain. like ants besetting the unwary beetle or cricket which has strayed into the disturbed nest, the savages threw themselves upon the luckless animals, and drawing off, revealed these securely bound. then followed a scene which, his own peril notwithstanding, turned blachland sick. the wretched beasts were not merely slaughtered, but were half flayed and cut to pieces alive. quarters were torn off, amid the frenzied bellowings of the tortured victims, and held up towards the tomb of the great king amid roaring acclamations of _sibonga_, and finally a vast mass of dry brushwood and grass was collected, and being heaped over and around the moaning, agonised creatures, was set alight. the red flames crackled, and roared aloft, and the smoke of the heathenish burnt offering, areek with the horrid smell of burning flesh, floated in great clouds right to the mouth of the cleft, and above and over all, now augmented to thunder tones by the voices of the later arrivals, the strophes of their fierce and gloomy devil-worship--the paeans in praise of the snake, in whom now rested the spirit of the dead king--arose in weird and deafening chorus above this holocaust of agony and fire and blood. transfixed with horror and disgust, blachland watched this demoniacal orgy, the more so that in it he saw his own fate in the event of detection. suddenly the great serpent at the back of the cleft, which had been quiescent for some time, emitted a loud hiss--rearing its head in startling suddenness. was the brute going to attack him? then a desperate idea came into his head. under cover of the smoke would it be practicable to slip out, and getting round the pile of boulders, lie hidden in some crevice or cranny until dark? again the monster emitted a hiss, this time louder, more threatening. and now he thought he saw the reason. the smoke was creeping into the cleft, not thickly as yet, but enough of it to render the atmosphere unpleasant, and indeed he could hardly stifle a fit of coughing. this would bring the reptile out, perhaps even it was partly designed to do so--in order to satisfy the heathenish watchers that their tutelary deity, the serpent of umzilikazi, was still there, was still watching over its votaries. in that ease, was he not in its way? it could only find egress by passing over him--and in that case, would it fail to strike him with its venomous deadly fangs? outside, the assegais of the savages, the death by torture. within, the horrible repulsive strike of the fearful reptile, the convulsions and agony attendant upon the victims of the bite of that species before death should claim them. it was a choice, but such a choice that the very moment of making might turn a man's hair white in the event of his surviving. and now the smoke rolled in thicker, and, noonday as it was, those below were quite invisible. a heavy gliding sound from the far end of the cleft was audible. the horror was drawing its fearful coils clear of its covering. in a moment it would be upon him, mad, infuriated in its frenzied rush for the open air. it was now or never. a thick volume of smoke rolled up as blachland scrambled over the piled stones, nearly choking him, even in the open air. a sharp, sickening pain shot through his bruised ankle. was it the fangs of the deadly _mamba_? two or three of the great stones, displaced, rattled loosely--but the thunderous snake song raised below must have drowned the rattle. heavens! the smoke was parting! only for a moment though, but in that moment the desperate man caught sight of that which encouraged him. the savages were clustering around the burning holocaust, heaping on piles of grass and brush. the concealing cloud closed in again thicker than ever, and under its friendly cover, he gained the rock at the foot of the _kafferboen_; then, keeping his head comparatively clear, he crept round the upper side of the granite pile with the instinct of keeping it between himself and his enemies. this object once attained, he staggered blindly forward, the shouting and the song growing fainter behind him. ha! this would do. a cranny between two boulders six or eight feet deep. he would lie here perfectly still until night. the awful strain he had undergone, and the anguish of his contused ankle, now stiff and sore, rendered such a rest absolutely essential. lowering himself cautiously into the crevice he lay for a few moments unsteadily thinking. the pain of his ankle, intensified in its fierce throbbing-- was it the _mamba_ poison after all? then everything seemed to whirl round, and he lost consciousness. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "oh great serpent o, all powerful serpent!" _kumalo_ and _bayete_ are both merely royal salutes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "black serpent! king serpent! serpent of matyobane! serpent, father of the zulus!" chapter twelve. a turn of the wheel. "oh, lucky jim! how i envy hi-im! oh-h, lucky jim-- "get up, old sportsman! it's time for `scoff.'" and the singer thus breaking off from song to prose, dives his head into the tent door, and apostrophises about six-foot-one of recumbent humanity. "all right, jack! a fellow isn't dead that it requires all that infernal row to wake him," retorts justin spence, rather testily, for his dreams in the heat of the blazing forenoon have been all of love and roses, and the brusque awakening from such to the rough delights of a prospector's camp in the wilds of sultry mashunaland, is likely not to supply a soothing contrast. his partner takes no notice of the passing ill-humour save for a light laugh, as he returns to his former occupation, the superintending and part assisting at, a certain cooking process under the shade of a tree, effected by a native boy and now nearly completed. a tent and a small waggon supply the residential quarters, the latter for the "boys," who turn in on the ground underneath it--the former for their masters. a "scherm" of chopped boughs encloses the camp, and within this the donkeys are safeguarded at night: a case of learning wisdom by experience, for already two of these useful little animals have fallen a prey to lions through being left thus unprotected. just outside this is a partially sunken shaft, surmounted by a rude windlass. "what have we got for `scoff,' jack?" says justin spence, yawning lazily as he withdraws his dripping hands from the calabash wash-basin, and saunters across to the scene of culinary operations. "oh, lord!" giving a sniff or two as a vile and carrion-like effluvium strikes upon his nostrils. "there's one of those beastly stink-ants around somewhere. here, sixpence!" calling to one of a trio of mashuna boys lounging beneath the shade of the waggon aforesaid. "_hamba petula_ stink-ant-- what the deuce is the word, jack? _'iye_, yes, that's it _bulal'iye_. comprenny? well, clear then. _hamba_. scoot." a splutter of bass laughter went up from the natives at this lucid direction, which, however, the other man soon made clear. "oh, never mind about the stink-ant," he said. "why, man, it's all in the day's work. you must get used to these little trifles, or you'll never do any good at prospecting." "oh, damn prospecting! i hate it," returned justin, stretching his graceful length upon the ground. "ladle out the scoff and let's fall to. i want to have another smoke." "oh, lucky jim! how i envy him--" resumed jack skelsey, while engaged in the above occupation. "so do i, jack, or anybody else to whom that word `lucky' can be said to apply--and i'm afraid whoever that is it'll never be us." "you never can tell, old man. luck generally strikes a chap when least expected." "then now's the time for it to strike me; right now, jack." "oh, i don't know we've much to grouse about, spence. it's beastly hot up here, and we're sweating our souls out all for nothing. but after all, it's better than being stuck away all one's life in a musty old office, sometimes not even seeing the blessed light of day for a week at a time, if it happens to be foggy--a miserable jet of gas the only substitute for yonder jolly old sun. rather! i've tried it and you haven't. see?" nobody could have looked upon that simple camp without thoroughly agreeing with the speaker. it was hot certainly, but there were trees which afforded a cool and pleasant shade: while around for many a mile stretched a glorious roll of bush veldt--all green and golden in the unclouded sunlight--and the chatter of monkeys, the cackle of the wild guinea-fowl, the shrill crow of the bush pheasant together with the gleam of bright-winged birds glancing overhead, bespoke that this beautiful wilderness was redundant with life. the two men lounging there, with bronzed races and chests, their shirtsleeves turned up from equally bronzed wrists, looked the picture of rude health: surely if ever there was such a thing as a free life--open--untrammelled--this was it. the day was sunday, which may account for the lazy way in which we found one at any rate of the pair, spending the morning. for they had made it a rule to do no work on that day, not, we fear, from any particularly religious motive, but acting on the thoroughly sound and wholesome plan of taking one day in seven "off." a thoroughly sound and wholesome appetite had they too. when they had done, skelsey remarked: "shall we go and have a shoot?" the other, who was tugging at a knot in the strings of his tobacco bag, looked up quickly. "er--no. at least i won't go," he said rather nervously. "er--i think i'll ride over to blachland's." "all right, old chap. let's go there instead." this did not suit spence at all. "don't know whether you'd care for it, jack. the fact is, blachland's away." "i see-ee!" rejoined skelsey, significantly. "oh-h, l-lucky jim! how i envy hi-im--" he hummed. "you know you always swear you hate talking to women," said spence eagerly, as though anxious to apologise for or explain his unfriendliness. "so i thought it only fair to warn you as to what you had to expect." "i see-ee!" repeated the other with a laugh and a wink. "who's this?" shading his eyes and gazing out over the veldt. "jonah back already?" a native was approaching, a clothed native; in fact one of their boys. he had been despatched to a trading store, a trifling distance of twenty-five miles away, to procure certain supplies, and now as he reappeared, he was bearing on his head a prodigious load. "now we shan't be long!" ejaculated skelsey, "and good biz too, for the grog was running most confoundedly low. jonah is therefore for once a welcome sight." the load on being investigated was found to consist of a case of whisky and sundry unconsidered trifles in the grocery line. when this had been overhauled the boy, fumbling in the pockets of his greasy cord jacket, fished out a greasier bundle all rolled up in newspaper. "the mail, by george!" cried skelsey. "english mail too. here you are, spence. it's all for you, confound it," he added disappointedly. "well, that jolly blue envelope bears a striking family likeness to our old friend the dun. never mind, old chap, you're out of that brute's reach anyway." justin was probably of the same opinion, for he looked dubiously at the suspicious enclosure, and put it aside, beginning upon his other two mail letters. yet, when half through these something moved him to tear open the other. a glance at its contents--then he started and grew pale. what was this? his hands trembled, and a mist seemed to come between his eyes and the paper, as he held it in front of him, striving to master the contents. was it real? heavens! no! some fool must have been putting up a practical joke on him. it was impossible. it could not be. "no bad news i hope, old chap?" his partner's voice, anxious, sympathetic, sounded quite far away. "no--no. oh no--not bad news," he answered unsteadily. "i'll tell you bye-and-bye. here, sixpence! hurry up and get in my horse. _tshetsha_--d'you hear! _tshetsha_!" skelsey watched him furtively and wondered. however, he made no further remark. "well, so long, jack," said spence, as he led forth his horse. his partner had further observed that his hands shook during the process of saddling up--and that he seemed in a desperate hurry to be off. "i'll be back to-night, but after dark, i expect." "no, you won't," thought skelsey to himself. "spence _is_ making a bally fool of himself in that quarter. there'll be a gorgeous bust-up one of these days." then aloud: "so long, spence. remember me to the beautiful mrs b." "no more of this life," thought spence to himself as he rode along. a very different one now threw wide its alluring portals before him. he would leave all his share in the joint outfit to jack skelsey. he was a good fellow was jack-- "oh, l-lucky jim! how i envy hi-im--" justin laughed aloud, lightheartedly, gleefully, as his chum's favourite song arose fainter and fainter behind him. and then his chum's strange prediction, uttered scarcely half an hour ago, recurred to his mind. "`luck generally strikes a man when least expected!' by jove! jack was right." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ we have said that blachland had undergone a stormy time of it domestically, by reason of this new and sudden absence. but hermia's grievance was not a genuine one. so little indeed was it genuine that she was conscious of a distinct feeling of relief when he announced it. but side by side with this was an inherent instinct to deceive herself, since there was no other object on which to practise deception: to deceive herself into the idea that she really was a very ill-used person. he neglected her shamefully, she had declared. she had not bargained for leading this utterly lonely life when she decided to accompany him to this remote corner of the earth. well, again let him take care. there were others who appreciated her if he did not. to which he had replied equably:-- "meaning spence," and had gone on with his preparations. it was this very imperturbability which had always dominated hermia. she knew their relationship was dangerously near a rupture, and was not quite sure within her heart of hearts that she desired such. but a short while since, she emphatically did not; now it might be otherwise. yet it was impracticable, for the first essential to her mind was comfort and liberty unstinted. justin spence was as poor as the proverbial church mouse, else why should he be out there prospecting? she knew that every cent he had in the world was drawn from an allowance--not a large one either--and that allowances are the most precarious of all means of subsistence, in that they depend solely upon the will and caprice of the allower. it was a thousand pities. if only he were well off, she would not have hesitated. she was perfectly sick of this uncivilised, lonely life. she longed for the world again. justin adored her. her will would be his law. ah, why was he not independent and well off? she looked back over her past, but it caused her no qualms. she looked back on a period of passion and love, but the retrospect only served to emphasise the subsequent disillusionment. to be content with the love of one--no, that was not in her. new life, new love--the new wine of life! that was to live indeed. she looked around on the glowing veldt, shimmering in the afternoon heat. away on yonder rise a line of black objects was moving. she got out the binocular, a clear and powerful glass, and the objects seemed about fifty yards away--a score of sable antelope moving through the low bush, some of them magnificent specimens of that noble buck, and she could clearly distinguish the great scimitar-like horns and black hides, so markedly defined. yes, this was a grand country for men, but for women, debarred from all outdoor sport and excitement, why it was a living grave. and then, as she looked, suddenly the leaders of the line threw up their heads, stopped short, snuffing the air, and then the whole line turned about and trotted back in the direction from which they had come. what had alarmed the animals? sweeping the glass round carefully it revealed another object, a man on horseback, and her heart gave a great bound of delight. "it is. it's justin," she exclaimed half aloud. "the dear boy! how glad i am. but--what on earth--? what a hurry he's in!" for the advancing rider was coming along at something like a hard gallop, which was no pace at which to push a horse on a sweltering day like this. then hermia began a little piece of acting. she went into the house, and arranging herself on an old wicker couch covered with a leopard skin rug, began to read. "missis--baas riding this way. tink it baas spence." this from the grinning woolly head of tickey, inserted through the open doorway. hermia rose, stretched herself, and the book still in her hand came and stood in the doorway. then she stretched herself again and thus he found her. "why, justin? who would have thought of seeing you?" this with round, astonished eyes. "but--aren't you glad to, dearest?" he was looking her up and down, a tremor of love in his voice, a world of hungry passionate adoration in his gaze. "you know i am, dear love. come inside." she had put out her hand to him, and he, still holding it, needed no second bidding. once within, however, he seized her splendid form--its lines the more seductive through the thin, summer transparency of her light attire--in a strong and passionate embrace. "justin, justin, let me go!" she urged. "really, you are getting perfectly unmanageable." and she accompanied her words with a warning gesture towards the door of the inner room. the young man laughed aloud. "no fear," he said. "you're all alone again as usual." "how do you know that?" "never mind how. i do know, and it wasn't you who told me. but"-- becoming suddenly reproachful--"why didn't you?" "oh, i didn't want to distract you from your work, for one thing. you have been neglecting it far too much of late. hilary says you'll never make a prospector." "oh, damn hilary! he doesn't know everything." "ssh--" with a hand over his mouth. "you mustn't use swear words. and now, you dear ridiculous boy, what are you looking so absurdly happy about?" "ah, that'll come in time. i'm not going to tell you all at once," he retorted, suddenly becoming mysterious. "but, hermia my darling, it's like new life to see you again." she smiled softly, her dark eyes into his blue ones. it was like new life to her, this passionate and whole-hearted adoration. and he was so handsome too; the sunbrowned face with its refined features, the tall, well-knit figure, stirred the animal side of her, and she found herself contrasting him with the absent one. hilary was really getting old and prosaic and satirical. he had no more sentiment left in him than a cuttlefish--was the result of the mental contrast which she drew. whereas this one--it did occur to her that he, too, would one day lose the buoyancy and fire of youth, or even that this might come to be diverted on some object other than herself; but for the first, it was far enough off in all conscience--for the second, she had too much pride in her own powers to give it a thought. "ah, yes," she answered. "you think so now, but--you wouldn't always. remember, justin, i am older than you--well, only a little. but at any rate i have seen far more of the world--of life--than you can possibly have done. but what's the use of talking? we shall have to part sooner or later." they had dropped down on the couch, and were seated side by side, he holding both her hands. "but why shall we have to part sooner or later?" he asked, and the lack of lugubriousness with which he echoed her words struck her at the time. "well, justin, just look at things in the face. isn't love in a cottage a synonym for the very height of absurdity? what about its mashunaland equivalent--love in a prospector's camp?" he laughed aloud. there was something so happy and buoyant in his laugh that it struck her too. "yes, it strikes you as funny, doesn't it?" she said. "well, it is." "so it is," he answered. "i quite agree. now look here, hermia. supposing it were not a case of love in a prospector's camp, but love in all the wide world--in any part of it that pleased you--no matter where--the brightest parts of it, where everything combined to make life all sunshine for you, while you made life all sunshine for me? what then?" "now you're getting beyond me, justin. suppose you explain." "yes. that's all right. i will. no more prospecting for me, no need for that or anything else--only to enjoy life--with you. look at this." he put into her hand the communication he had received in camp--the sight of which had caused him that great and sudden agitation, and which had moved his comrade so anxiously to utter a hope that it contained no bad news. bad news! the news that it imparted was not exactly that he was a millionaire, but that all unexpectedly he had succeeded to a goodly heritage, just stopping short of five figures as a yearly income. "now, have we got to part sooner or later?" he cried triumphantly, watching the astonishment and then gladness which overspread her face. "look, we have all the world before us, and need care for nobody. come with me, hermia my darling, my one love. leave all this and come with me, and see what love really means." she did not immediately answer. she was looking him through with her large eyes, and was thinking. she looked back upon her life, and it seemed all behind her. here was an opportunity of renewing it. should she take him at his word, or should she play him a little longer? no, that was not advisable under the circumstances. it was now or never. it was strike while the iron is hot--and it was hot enough now in all conscience, she thought, as she looked at his pleading earnest face. "justin, my love, i believe i will take you at your word. only it must be immediately or not at all. shall i ever regret it, i wonder?" and again she looked him through with a fine expression of great and troubled seriousness. "never, darling," he cried enraptured. "that old fossil doesn't appreciate you. i will show you what appreciation means. you will go with me at once--to-morrow--never to part?" "yes," she whispered. "ha-ha-haa!" laughed a jackal, questing after prey away in the gloaming shades of the now dusking veldt. "ha-ha-haa!" laughed his mate. chapter thirteen. gone! when hilary blachland awoke to consciousness, the moon was shining full down on his face. he was chilled and stiff--but the rest and sleep had done him all the good in the world, and now as he sat up in the hard damp rock-crevice, he began to collect his scattered thoughts. he shivered. thoughts of fever, that dread bugbear of the up-country man, took unpleasant hold upon his mind. a sleep in the open, blanketless, inadequately protected from the sudden change which nightfall brings, in the cool air of those high plateaux--the more pronounced because of the steamy tropical heat of the day--had laid many a good man low, sapping his strength with its insidious venom, injecting into his system that which should last him throughout the best part of his life. he peered cautiously out of his hiding-place. not a sign of life was astir. he shook himself. already the stiffness began to leave him. he drained his flask, and little as there was, the liquor sent a warming glow through his veins. the next thing was to find his way back to where he had left hlangulu. somehow it all looked different now, as he stepped forth. in the excitement of the projected search he had not much noticed landmarks. now for a moment or so he felt lost. but only for a moment. the great monolith of the king's grave rose up on his left front, the granite pile, white in the moonlight. now he had got his bearings. cautiously he stepped forth. there was still a reek of smoke on the night air, ascending from the spot of sacrifice and wafted far and wide over the veldt. but of those who had occupied it there was no sign. they had gone. cautiously now he stole through the shade of the bushes: the light of the moon enabling him to step warily and avoid stumbling. he was glad to put all the distance possible between himself and that accursed spot. his bruised ankle was painful to a degree, and he was walking lame. that there was no luck in meddling with umzilikazi's last resting-place assuredly he had found. he travelled but slowly, peering cautiously over every rise prior to surmounting it, not needlessly either, for once he came upon a matabele picket, the glow of whose watch-fire was concealed behind a great rock. the savages were stretched lazily on the ground, their assegais and shields beside them, some asleep, others chatting drowsily. well for him that he was cautious and that they were drowsy. but--where was hlangulu? then a thought stabbed his mind. he had brought back no spoil. the matabele, foiled in his cupidity, would have no further motive for guiding him into safety. all his malevolence would be aroused. he would at once jump to the conclusion that he had been cheated--that blachland had hidden the gold in some place of safety, intending to return and possess himself of the whole of it. he would never for a moment believe there was none there, or if there was that it was inaccessible. a white man could do everything, was the burden of native reasoning. if this white man had returned without the spoil it would not be that there was no spoil there, but that he had hidden it, intending to keep it all for himself. acting on this idea blachland filled the pockets of his hunting coat with small stones so as to give to the appearance of those useful receptacles a considerable bulge. that would deceive his guide until they two were in safety once more-- and then--he didn't care. a sound struck upon his ear, causing him to stop short. it was that of one stone against another. then it was repeated. it was the signal agreed upon between them. but it was far away on the left. he had taken a wrong bearing, and was shaping a course which would lead him deeper and deeper into the heart of the matopo hills. he waited a moment, then picking up a good-sized stone, struck it against a rock, right at hand, thus answering the signal. had hlangulu heard it, he wondered? it was of no use to go in his direction. they might miss in the darkness, pass each other within a few yards. so he elected to sit still. the rest was more than welcome. his bruised ankle was stiff and sore and inflamed. fortunately he would soon come to where he had left his horse. much more walking was out of the question. time wore on. he longed to smoke, but dared not. he was still within the dangerous limits. he was just about to give the signal once more, when--a voice raised in song hardly louder than a whisper! it was hlangulu. the eyes of the savage were sparkling with inquiry as he ran them over the white man. the latter rather ostentatiously displayed his bulged pockets, but said nothing--signing to the other to proceed. not a word was spoken between the two as they held on through the night--and towards the small hours came upon the spot where the horse had been left concealed. a european could hardly have dissembled his curiosity as to what had happened. the matabele, however, asked no questions, and if a quick, fleeting look across his mask-like countenance, as they took their way onward through the starlight, betrayed his feelings it was all that did. just before dawn they turned into a secure hiding-place formed by the angle of two great boulders, walled in in front by another accidental one--to rest throughout the hours of daylight. and now a sure and certain instinct had taken hold upon blachland, and the burden of it was that under no circumstances whatever dare he go to sleep. once or twice he had detected a look upon the sinister race of his confederate and guide which implanted it more and more firmly within his mind. yet, in spite of the few hours of half-unconscious doze, he was worn out for lack of rest, and there were two more nights and three whole days before he could reach home. he was feeling thoroughly done up. the fiery, gnawing pain of his swelled ankle, the strain which all that he had gone through had placed upon his nerves--combined to render him almost light-headed, yet, with it all, a marvellous instinct of self-preservation moved him to watchfulness. this could not go on. he must put it to the test one way or the other. "i think i will try to sleep a little, hlangulu," he said. "afterwards we can talk about what has been." "_nkose_!" replied the matabele, effusively, striving to quell the dark look of fierce delight which shot across his sinister countenance. blachland lay down, drawing his blanket half over his head. the matabele sat against a rock and smoked. blachland watched him through his closed lids, but still hlangulu sat and smoked. he became really sleepy. the squatting form of the savage was visible now only as through a far-away misty cloud. he dropped off. suddenly he awoke. the same instinct, however, which had warned him against going to sleep warned him now against opening his eyes. through the merest crack between their lids he looked forth, and behold, some one was bending over him, but not so much as to conceal the haft of a short, broad-bladed, stabbing assegai. there was not much time to decide. cool now, as ever, in the face of ordinary and material danger, blachland realised that his hands were imprisoned in his blanket, and that before he could free them, the blade of the savage would transfix his heart. he heaved a sigh that was partly a snore--and made a movement as though in his sleep, which if continued would still more invitingly present his breast to the deadly stroke. the murderer saw this too and paused. but not for long. he spun round wildly, his weapon flying from his outstretched hand, then fell, heavily, on his face--and this simultaneously with the muffled roar of an explosion beneath the blanket. the supposed sleeper had stealthily drawn his hip-pocket revolver, and, firing through the covering, had shot hlangulu dead. then the sleep which was overpowering him came upon him, and with a profound sense of security he dropped off, slumbering peacefully, where, but a few yards off lay the corpse of his victim and would-be murderer. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ there is often a sort of an instinct which tells that a place is empty, whether house or room--empty, untenanted by its ordinary occupant. just such a feeling was upon blachland as he drew near his home. the gate of the stockade was shut and no smoke arose--nor was there any sign of life about the place. it had a deserted look. the fact depressed him. he was feeling fatigued and ill; in short, thoroughly knocked up. he had even realised that there were times when it is pleasant to have a home to return to, and this was one of them, and now as he rode up to his own gate there was no sign of a welcoming presence. he raised his voice in a stentorian hail. the two little mashuna boys shot out of the back kitchen as scared as a couple of rabbits when the ferret is threading the winding passages to their burrow. scared, anxious-looking, they opened the gate. "where is your mistress?" he asked in sindabele. "gone, _nkose_," was the reply. "gone!" he echoed mentally. so hermia had taken him at his word, and had decided to retreat to fort salisbury. perhaps though, some disquieting news had arrived since his departure, causing her to take that step. his feeling of depression deepened as he entered the empty house. ah! what was this? a letter stared at him from a conspicuous place, a sealed enclosure--and it was directed in hermia's handwriting. that would explain, he thought. and it did with a vengeance. "you will not be astonished, hilary," it began, "because even you must have seen that this life was getting beyond endurance. you will not miss me, because for some time past you have been growing more and more tired of me. so it is best for us to part: and you can now go back to your matabele wives, or bring them here if you prefer it; for i shall never return to this life we have been leading. i warned you that if you did not appreciate me, others did--and now i am leaving, not only this country but this continent. i am going into the world again, and now, you too, will be able to make a fresh start. we need never meet again and in all probability we never shall. farewell. "hermia." twice he read over this communication--slowly, carefully, as though weighing every word. so she had gone, had deserted him. there was truth in what she wrote. he had been growing tired of her--very: for he had long since got to the bottom of the utter shallowness of mind which underlay her winning and seductive exterior--winning and seductive, that is, when laying herself out to attract admiration, a thing she had long since ceased to do in his own case. the sting too, about his matabele wives, he never having possessed any, was a not very adroit insinuation designed to place him in the wrong, and was all in keeping with a certain latent vulgarity of mind which would every now and then assert itself in her, with the result of setting his teeth on edge. he smiled to himself, rather bitterly, rather grimly. he was sorry for spence. the boy was merely a fool, and little knew the burden he had loaded up on his asinine and youthful shoulders, and, as for hermia, his smile became more saturnine still, as he pictured her roughing it in a prospector's camp: for he looked upon her statement about leaving africa as mere mendacious bounce, and of course was unaware of any change for the better in spence's fortunes. for her he was not sorry, nor for himself. as she had said, he would now be able to make a fresh start, and this he fully intended to do. yet, as he stood there, ill and tired and shaken, looking around on his deserted home, it may be that some tinge of abandonment and desolation crept over him. hermia had chosen her time well, at any rate, he thought, as he busied himself fomenting and bandaging his throbbing and swollen ankle. the sun had gone down, and the shades of evening seemed to set in with a strange, unaccountable chill, as he limped about, looking after his stock and other possessions. decidedly there was a lonely feeling, vague, indefinable, which hovered about him. and then those dreadful chills increased. lying out in that rock-crevice, in fact lying out for several nights insufficiently covered, had sown the seeds. assuredly no luck had come to him through meddling with the king's grave. and then, before evening had merged for an hour into dark night, hilary blachland lay shivering beneath his piled-up blankets as though they had been ice--shivering in the terrible ague-throes of that deadly malaria--weak, helpless as a child, deserted, alone. end of book i. chapter one. wiser counsels. "that scamp! that out-and-out irreclaimable scamp! a hundred is just ninety-nine pound nineteen more than he deserves. a hundred. no--i'll make it two." sir luke canterby looked up from the document he had been perusing and annotating, and biting the end of his pen, sat gazing meditatively out of the window. it was a lovely day of early spring, and the thrushes were hopping about the lawn, and the rooks in the great elms were making a prodigious cawing and fuss over their nest-building. all nature was springing into new life in the joyous gladsome rush of the youthful year, but the old man, sitting there, was out of harmony with rejuvenated nature. his meditations and occupation were concerned, not with life, but with death. the document before him was nothing less momentous than the draft of his last will and testament. in appearance, however, there was nothing about sir luke canterby to suggest impending dissolution, either now or in the near future. seated there surrounded by the dark oak of his library, he represented a pleasant and wholesome type of old age. he was tall and spare, and, for his years, wonderfully straight. he had refined features and wore a short beard, now silvery white, and there was a kindly twinkle in his eyes. he was a rich man, but had not always been, and, although of good parentage, had made his money in commerce. he had been knighted on the occasion of a royal visit to the mercantile centre wherein at the time he was prominent, but in his heart of hearts, thought but little of the `honour' in fact, would have declined it could he have done so with a good grace. his gaze came back to the paper with a troubled look, which deepened as he made the correction. for although to the legatee in question two hundred pounds would be better than none, yet the said legatee had had reason to expect that the bulk of the whole would be left to him. still the testator sat staring at what he had just effected, as if it were something he did not relish at all, and in fact, no more he did. then an interruption occurred in the shape of a knock at the door and the entrance of a servant. "canon lenthall is here, sir luke, and would be glad to know if you can see him?" "eh? yes, certainly. show him up here. the very thing," he added to himself. "i'll take dick's opinion about it. ah, there he is. come in, canon. real glad to see you, especially just now." "nothing wrong, canterby?" said the other, as the two men shook hands cordially. "don't know about wrong, dick. but i'm in a puzzle over something, and you always had a sound judgment. sit down." the very reverend richard lenthall was one of the canons attached to the roman catholic cathedral in the adjacent town of passmore; and the difference in their creeds notwithstanding, for sir luke did not profess the ancient faith, the two men had been fast friends for nearly a lifetime. in aspect and manner they were totally dissimilar. the priest was a broad, thick-set man of medium height, with a strong but jovial face, square-jawed and surmounted by a fine forehead, and illuminated by a pair of fine dark eyes, wonderfully searching, as they gazed forth from beneath bushy brows. he had a brisk, hearty, genial manner, differing entirely from the somewhat reposeful and dignified one of his friend. but mentally, both had many points in common--notably a keen sense of humour--and a delight in studying the contrasts and ironies of the satirical side of life. "what's the puzzle?" he now said, dropping into a chair. "i'll tell you. oh, by the way, let me ring for a glass of wine for you after your walk." "no, thanks. i'll wait till lunch. i'm going to stop and lunch with you, but i'll have to get away directly after." "as to that you know your own business best. look here, old friend, advise me. do you know what this confounded document is?" holding it up. "um. it might be a lease, or a deed of partnership--or of sale." "no. try again." "or your will." "you've struck it. that's just what it is. the draft of my will. and--i want you to read it." "why?" "because i want your opinion, man--doesn't it stand to reason?" "see here, luke," said the other, and there was a twinkle in his eye. "aren't you afraid of the much-abused priest who is supposed to be always poking his nose into other people's business and interfering in family matters? you know." "i only know that you are talking bosh when you ought to be serious, dick. do run through that paper and make any remarks on it you like." "well, if you really wish it," said the canon, serious enough now, as he got out his glasses, and began to peruse attentively the masses of legal jargon which covered up the testator's designs. he had not got far, however, before he came upon that which perturbed him not a little, but of such his trained impassive countenance betrayed no sign. sir luke sat looking out of the window, watching the thrushes hopping about the lawn. "well?" he said at last, but not extending a hand to receive the document which the other was holding out to him. "you have altered all your former dispositions," said the canon. "yes. i have been thinking things carefully over. i daren't trust him, that scamp. he has simply gone from bad to worse, and would make ducks and drakes of the lot. percival won't." "that scamp!" the hardly perceptible quiver in his old friend's voice as he uttered the word, did not escape the shrewd ecclesiastic. indeed, to that skilled and experienced master of human nature in all its phases, the state of his friend's mind at this moment was a very wide open book. "are you sure of yourself, canterby?" he said. "is it quite just to entail upon him so ruthlessly sweeping a penalty as this? are you sure of yourself?" "of course i am." "no, you're not. my dear old friend, you can't throw dust in my eyes. you are not sure of yourself. then why not give him another chance?" "why, that's just what i have done. anybody else would have cut him off with a shilling--with the traditional shilling. by george, sir, they would." canon lenthall smiled to himself, for he knew that when a man of his friend's temperament begins to wax warm in an argument of this sort, it is a sure sign that he is arguing against himself. he considered the victory almost won. turning over the sheets of the draft once more, he read out a clause--slowly and deliberately: "to my nephew, hilary blachland, i bequeath the sum of two hundred pounds--in case he might find himself in such a position that its possession would afford him a last chance." "well?" queried sir luke. "please note two things, canterby," said the canon. "first you say i am to advise you, then that i am to read this document and make any remarks i like." "of course." "well then, i'll take you at your word. i advise you to draw your pen right through that clause." "why? hilary is an irreclaimable scamp." "no, he is not." "not, eh? `st. clair, st. clair and blachland.' have you forgotten that, canon?" snorted sir luke. "_and_ blachland! my nephew!" "how long ago was that?" "how long ago? why, you know as well as i do. six years. rather over than under." "yes. six years is a long time. time enough for a man to recognise that he has made worse than a fool of himself. how do you know that hilary has not come to recognise that--is not doing all he can to wipe out that sin?" "exactly. how do i know? that's just it. he has never had the grace or decency to let me know that he has--to let me know whether he's dead or alive." the other smiled to himself. "that's not the solitary one of his carryings on, either. yes. he's an out-and-out scamp." "i don't agree with you, canterby. the very fact that he has refrained from communicating with you makes for the contrary. it is a sign of grace. had he been the scamp you--_don't_ believe him to be, you'd have heard from him fast enough, with some pitiful appeal for assistance." "but he ought to have let me hear. i might be thinking him dead." "well, the last thing you told him was that he ought to be. if i recollect rightly, you strongly recommended him to go and blow his brains out." "well, he didn't. he went off with the woman instead." "that isn't to say he's with her now." "i'm surprised at you, canon," snorted sir luke. "hanged if i ever thought to find you defending--er--vice." "and you haven't found me doing so yet. but everything has to be determined on its own merits." "but there aren't any merits in this case. it was a bad case, sir, a rotten bad case." "well, we'll say demerits then, if you prefer it. now there are, or were, two extenuating circumstances in this particular one--the personality of the woman, and--heredity. for the first i have seen her, for the second, hilary's father. you knew him pretty well, canterby, but i knew him even better than you did." "but what would you have me do? i daren't put him into possession of large responsibilities. he has disgraced his family as it is. i can't have him coming here one day, and disgracing it further." "you would rather put percival into the position then?" "of course. he would fill it worthily. the other wouldn't." "i don't know about that. i am perfectly certain about one thing, and that is that percival himself would never accept it at the expense of his cousin, if he knew he was to do so. that boy has a rarely chivalrous soul, and he used almost to worship hilary." "pooh! that wouldn't go so far as to make him deliberately choose to be left nearly a pauper in order to benefit the other," sneered sir luke. but he was a man who did not sneer well. it was not natural to him to sneer at all--therefore his sneer was not convincing. "i don't agree with you, canterby. i believe he would. there are some few natures like that, thank heaven, although it must be conceded they are marvellously scarce. but he need not `be left a pauper'--though that of course rests with you--and that without doing the other any injustice--and yourself too. for you know as well as i do, luke, that hilary holds and always will hold the first place in your heart." "and the same holds good of percy in regard to yours, eh, canon? yet you are arguing against him for all you know how." "i am arguing against you, not against him. you invited remark upon the contents of this document, luke, and asked me to advise you, and i have done my best to comply with both desires. don't be in a hurry to commit an act of injustice which you yourself may bitterly repent when it is too late, and past remedying. you are at present sore and vindictive against hilary, but you know perfectly well in your heart of hearts that he is to you as your own and only son. stretch out a hand of blessing over him from beyond the grave, not one of wrath and retribution and judgment." "it isn't that, you know," urged sir luke, rather feebly. "my reasons are different. i don't want him to come here and play ducks and drakes with what i have taken a lifetime to build up--and not easily either-- and to bring scandal on my name and memory. that's what it amounts to." "that's what you are trying to persuade yourself into thinking it amounts to, but you can't humbug me, old friend. my advice to you therefore is to lock that draft away, or better still, put it in the fire, and leave things as they are." "you mean with hilary as my heir?" "just that. i have, however, a suggestion to append. find out hilary; not necessarily directly, but find out about him--where he is and what doing. the fact that he has never applied to you for help, is, as i said before, a point in his favour. he may have carved out a position for himself--may be of use in the world by his life and example. anyway, give him a chance." "but if i find just the reverse? what if i find him a thoroughly hardened and disreputable scamp?" "then i have nothing further to urge. but somehow i have an instinct that you will find him nothing of the sort." a perceptible brightening came over the old man's face. the priest had struck the right chord in saying that hilary blachland had been to his friend rather as an only son than as a nephew, and now the thought of having him at his side again was apparent in the lighting up of his face. then his countenance fell again. "it's all very well to say `find out hilary,'" he said. "but how is it to be done? we last heard of him from south africa. he was trading in the interior with the natives. seemed to like the life and could make a little at it." "well, there you are. you can soon find out about him. although covering a vast area in the vague region geographically defined as south africa, the european population is one of those wherein everybody knows everybody else, or something about them. send percival out. the trip would do him a world of good. you need not tell him its precise object in every particular, i mean of course that he is sent out there to report. but let him know that he is to find hilary, and he will throw himself into it heart and soul. then his indirect report will tell us all we want to know." "by jove, canon, that is sound judgment, and i'll act upon it!" cried sir luke eagerly. "what on earth are your people about that they don't make you a cardinal archbishop? send percival! why, that'll be the very thing. i shall miss the boy though, while he's away, but oh, confound it, yes--i would like to see that other scamp again before i die. here--this can go in the fire," throwing the draft document into the grate and stirring it up with the poker to make it burn. "we'll send percival. ha! that sounds like his step. shall we say anything to him now about it? yes. here he is." chapter two. a waft of strange news. "i say, uncle luke. do you happen to be aware that it's jolly well tiffin time--hallo, canon! didn't know you were here. how are you?" he who thus unceremoniously burst in upon them, in blissful ignorance of the momentous matter under discussion and of course of how his own fortunes had been balancing in the scale, was a goodly specimen of english youth, tall, and well-hung, and athletic, but the bright frank sunniness of his face, his straight open glance, and entirely unaffected and therefore unspoiled manner rendered him goodly beyond the average. percival west and hilary blachland were both orphaned sons of two of sir luke's sisters, and had been to him even as his own children. there was a difference of many years between their ages, however, and their characters were totally dissimilar, as we have heard set forth. "time for tiffin is it, percy?" said sir luke, glancing at his watch. "you see we old fogies haven't got your fine healthy jackass-and-a-bundle-of-greens appetite. we must have overlooked it." "i don't agree with you at all, canterby," laughed the canon. "i'll answer for it. i feel uncommonly like beefsteaks, or anything that's going. and what have you been doing with yourself, percy?" "biking. got ten miles out beyond passmore since eleven o'clock. oh, bye-the-bye, canon, i saw the bishop in passmore. he wanted you badly." "percy, speak the truth, sir," returned the canon, with a solemn twinkle in his eyes. "you said the bishop wanted me badly? and--his lordship happens to be away!" "every word i said is solemn fact," replied percival. "i saw the bishop in passmore, but i didn't say to-day though. and there's no denying he did want you badly. eh, canon?" "you're a disrespectful rascal, chaffing your seniors, sir, and if i were twenty years younger, i'd put on the gloves and take it out of you." "come along in to tiffin, canon, and take it out of that," rejoined percival with his light-hearted laugh, dropping his hand affectionately on to the old man's shoulder. and the trio adjourned to the dining-room. jerningham lodge, sir luke canterby's comfortable, not to say luxurious establishment, was a roomy old house, standing within a walled park of about a hundred and fifty acres. old, without being ancient, it was susceptible of being brought up to _fin-de-siecle_ ideas of comfort, and the gardens and shrubberies were extensive and well kept. it had come into his possession a good many years before, and soon after that he was left a childless widower. thus it came about that these two nephews of his had found their home here. the elder of the two, however, did not turn out entirely to the satisfaction of his uncle. "hilary is such a confounded young rake," the latter used to say. "he'll get himself into a most infernal mess one of these days." both dicta were true. headstrong and susceptible, there was hardly ever a time when hilary blachland was outside some entanglement: more than once getting him into a serious scrape. such, however, did not invariably come to the ears of his uncle, though now and then they did, and on one occasion sir luke found himself obliged to pay down a heavy sum to keep an uncommonly awkward breach of promise case against his nephew from coming into court. hilary at last made passmore too hot to hold him, but the worst of it was that sooner or later the same held good of everywhere else. still, the infinity of trouble he gave him notwithstanding, this scapegrace was the one of his two nephews for whom sir luke had the softest place in his heart--but at last the climax arrived, and the name of that climax was the name of the suit which we have just heard sir luke mention. therein hilary _had_ got himself--as his uncle had forcibly put it--"into a most infernal mess." his said uncle, moreover, had found himself called upon to pay the somewhat heavy damages and costs. he need not have done so, of course. he might have left the scapegrace to drag himself out of the mud he had got into. but, unlike many men who have coined their own wealth, there was nothing close-fisted about sir luke canterby. he had disbursed the large sum with scarcely a murmur--anything to close down the confounded scandal. but with hilary blachland he was seriously angry and disgusted, and told him as much in no halting terms. the other replied he had better go abroad--and the sooner the better. so he took himself off--which, declared sir luke, was the most sensible thing he had decided to do for some time. he changed his mind though, on learning that hilary had not gone alone, and--missed him, as he put it to himself and his most intimate friend, viz. canon lenthall, "like the very devil." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "by the way," said percival when lunch was half through. "i brought out a later paper from passmore. here it is," producing it from the pocket of his norfolk jacket. "want to see it, uncle? not much news, i expect." "let's see the stock and share column," holding out one hand for the paper, and fixing his glasses with the other. a glance up and down a column, then a turning over of the sheet. then a sudden, undisguised start. "god bless my soul! what's this?" his hand shook as he held the news sheet, running his glance hastily down it. "why, that must be hilary. there, canon, read it out i can hardly see--there--that paragraph." the old priest took the paper. "`trouble brewing in mashonaland'? is that it? yes? well, here's what they say:-- "`stirring times seem in store for our chartered company's pioneers in their new eldorado. it has been known that lo bengula's concession of the mining rights in mashonaland to that company was very distasteful to his people, and for some time past these have been manifesting their displeasure in such wise as to show that it is only a question of time when the settlers of mashonaland will find themselves called upon to vindicate their rights by force, against their truculent neighbours. the last instance that we have seems to have happened early in november, when an armed force of matabele crossed into mashonaland, raiding and threatening at their own sweet will. several native servants in the employ of settlers were murdered in cold blood, lo bengula's warriors asserting their right to carry on their time-honoured pastime, declaring that the lives of these people were not included in the concession; but so far they have refrained from murdering europeans. one specific example of the unbridled aggressiveness of these savages is also to hand. the impi went to the house of a man named blachland, a trader and hunter residing near the head waters of the umnyati river. two of his servants had got wind of its approach, and after warning their master fled for their lives to the bush. it appears however, that blachland was ill with a bad attack of fever, and too weak to move.'" an exclamation from percival and sir luke caused the reader to pause. "go on, canon, go on," said the latter hurriedly. "`it appears that the induna in charge of the impi was well known to the sick man, and while he entered the house and engaged the latter in conversation, his followers amused themselves by ransacking the out-premises. here they discovered two little mashona boys, blachland's servants, who were hiding in terror. these were dragged forth, and regardless of their shrieks for mercy, were ruthlessly speared, the bloodthirsty savages roaring with delight as they tossed the miserable little wretches to and fro among each other, on the blades of their great assegais. then they went away, leaving the bleeding and mangled corpses lying in the gateway, and calling out to the sick occupant of the place that the time for killing white people had not come yet. "`from there they proceeded to the camp of two prospectors named skelsey and spence. the last-named was away, but skelsey had got wind of their coming and had promptly put his camp into a position of defence--and prepared to give them a warm reception. when they arrived he showed them his magazine rifle and revolver, and called out to the induna in command that he was going to shoot until he hadn't a cartridge left, if they advanced a step nearer. they did not appear to relish the prospect, and drew off, uttering threats. thus this brave fellow saved the lives of his four scared and cowering mashona servants, who, however, showed their appreciation by deserting next day. "`blachland, it is reported, is out of favour with lo bengula, who recently ordered him out of his country for some reason or other, while he was on a trading trip at bulawayo.'" then followed some more comments on the insecurity of life and property at the mercy of savage neighbours, and the necessity for prompt and decided action, and the paragraph ended. "i suppose there's no doubt about it being hilary?" said percival, when the reader had stopped. "blachland isn't such a common name, and he did go out there as a trader or something. by jove, wouldn't i like to be with him!" both his seniors smiled. they were thinking his wish might soon be realised. "down with fever, poor chap!" said sir luke. "but that up-country fever isn't fatal, i've heard, not if men take proper care of themselves. he ought to have a run home though. the voyage would soon set him on his feet again." "rather!" echoed percival, enthusiastically. "it would be grand to see the dear old chap again." "well, perhaps we may, percy, perhaps we may," rejoined his uncle, rather excitedly. "how would you like to go over and fetch him?" "me? by george! i'd like it better than anything else in the world. but--suppose he wouldn't come?" "of course he'd come. why shouldn't he come?" testily answered sir luke, to whom this afterthought was not a pleasant one. and the rest of the time was spent in discussing this news from a far-away land. "strange, isn't it?" said sir luke, thereafter, percival having gone out of the room. "just as we were talking over hilary, and here this bit of news comes right in upon us from outside. if percy hadn't brought back that paper we might never have heard it." "looks like an omen, doesn't it, luke?" laughed the canon. "looks as if he were to be instrumental in bringing hilary back." "i hope to heaven he may. i say, dick, old friend, i'm more than glad you turned in here to-day, in time to make me put that abominable draft in the fire." "will you walk back with me a little way, percy?" said the canon as he was taking his leave, having refused sir luke's offer to send him back on wheels. "why rather. wait, i'll just get my bike. i can wheel it along, and ride it back." they passed down the village street together, nodding here and there to an acquaintance, or acknowledging the salutation of a rustic. the rector of the parish passed them on a bicycle, and the two professors of rival creeds exchanged a cordial and friendly greeting, for somehow, no one was anything other than friendly with canon lenthall. but it was not until they had left the village behind and had gained the open country that he began to discourse seriously with his younger friend as to the matter of which both were thinking. "let me see. how long is it since you saw hilary?" he began. "oh, about half a dozen years--just before he got into that--er--mess. what a splendid chap he was, canon. i've sometimes thought uncle luke was a bit hard on him that time." "you're quite wrong, percy. hard is the one thing your uncle could not be. why, he's the softest hearted man in existence." "yes, i know. but, does he really want me to go out there and hunt up hilary?" "i believe so. as a matter of fact, we happened to be discussing that very thing just before you came in. it was a strange coincidence that you should unconsciously have brought the news you did." percival whistled. "were you really? strange indeed. well, i'm on for the scheme. it doesn't matter if i enter at the temple now, or in six or eight months' time--and, what an experience it'll be in the mean time." they were nearing passmore, and the chimneys and spires of the town were growing larger and larger in front of them--and already the haze of smoke was dimming the bright green of the expanse of meadow between. they had gained the wooden road-bridge, beneath which the sluggish water ran oily between the black piers, and here the canon paused. "it will be a great thing if we can bring hilary back to his uncle, so that they are thoroughly reconciled. but percy, my boy--remember that so far, for all these years past you have been the first and only one near him. how will you feel when you see another first--and to all appearances of more consequence than yourself, as is natural in the case of one who has long been away. are you sure of yourself?" but the young man burst into a free, frank and hearty laugh. "great scot, canon!" he cried merrily. "what sort of a bounder are you trying to take me for? there's nothing i'd like so much as to see the dear old chap back again." the old priest gazed steadily at him for a moment, and felt greatly relieved. the answer rang so spontaneous, so true. "well, i had that to say to you, and have said it. in fact i brought you with me now on purpose to say it. now, good-bye my boy, and god bless you." chapter three. bayfield's farm. there is a rustling in the cover, faint at first, but drawing nearer. as it does so, the man with the gun, who has been squatting half concealed by a shrub in one corner of the little glade, picks himself up stealthily, noiselessly, and now widely on the alert. a fine bushbuck ram leaps lightly into the open, and as its large protruding eye lights on this unusual object, its easy, graceful bound becomes a wild rush. then the gun speaks. the beautiful animal sinks in his stride and falls, a frantic, kicking heap, carried forward some six or eight yards by the impetus of his pace. twirling, twisting, now attempting to rise, and almost succeeding, then rolling back, but still fighting desperately for life--the blood welling forth over his black hide where the deadly _loepers_ have penetrated--the stricken buck emits loud raucous bellowings of rage and fear and agony. but the man with the gun knows better than to approach too near, knows well the power of those long, needle-pointed horns, and the tenacity of life contained within the brain beneath them; knows well that a stricken bushbuck ram, with all that life still in him, can become a terribly dangerous and formidable antagonist, and this is a very large and powerful unit of the species. the crash of the shot reverberates, roaring from the overhanging krantz--dislodging a cloud of spreuws from its rocky ledges. these dart hither and thither, whistling and chattering, their shrill din mingling with the bellowings of the wounded buck. but upon this arises another din and it is that of canine throats. two great rough-haired dogs leap forth into the glade, following upon the line taken by the buck. then ensues a desperate game. the stricken animal, summoning all his remaining strength to meet these new foes, staggers to his feet, and, with head lowered and menacing, it seems that no power on earth can stay the foremost of the dogs from receiving the full length of these fourteen-inch horns in his onward rush. these, however, are no puppies, but old, well-seasoned dogs, thoroughly accustomed to bush-hunting. wonderfully quick are they in their movements as, just avoiding each deadly thrust, they leap, snapping and snarling, round their quarry-- until one, seeing his chance, seizes the latter just below the haunch in such fashion as promptly to hamstring him. the game antelope is done for now. weakened, too, by the jets of blood spurting from his wounds, he totters and falls. the fight is over. with it the man with the gun has deemed it sound policy not to interfere. to encourage the dogs would render them too eager--at the expense of their judgment--and to fire a second shot would be seriously to imperil them. besides, he is interested in this not so very ill-matched combat. now, however, it is time to call them off. to call is one thing, but to be obeyed is quite another. the two great dogs, excited and savage, are snarling and worrying at the carcase of their now vanquished enemy--and the first attempt to enforce the order is met with a very menacing and determined growl, for this man is not their master. wisely he desists. "confound it, they'll tear that fine skin to ribbons!" he soliloquises disgustedly. then--"oh, there you are, bayfield. man, call those brutes off. they don't care a damn for me." a horseman has dashed into the glade. he, too, carries a gun, but in a trice he has torn a _reim_ from the d. of his saddle, and is lashing and cursing with a will among the excited hounds. these draw off, still snarling savagely, for he is their master. "_magtig_! blachland, but you're in luck's way!" he exclaimed. "that's the finest ram that's been shot here for the last five years. well done! i believe it's the same one i drove right over that britisher last month, and he missed it clean with both barrels. that young fellow stopping with earle." "who's he? a jackaroo?" "no. a visitor. i don't know who he is. by the way, i must take you over to earle's one of these days. he's got a good bit of shoot. look here, jafta," turning to a yellow-skinned hottentot, also mounted, who had just arrived on the scene, "baas blachland has shot our biggest bushbuck ram at last." "ja. that is true, baas," grinned the fellow, who was bayfield's after-rider, inspecting the edge of his knife preparatory to the necessary disembowelling and loading up of the quarry. "we may as well be getting along," said bayfield. "jafta, go and fetch baas blachland's horse." "i thought an up-country man like you would turn up his nose at our hunting, blachland," said bayfield as they rode along. "but what you can't turn up your nose at is our air--eh? why, you're looking twice the man you were a fortnight ago even. i suppose that infernal fever's not easily shaken off." "it's the very devil to shake off, but if anything will do it, this will." and the speaker glanced around with a feeling of complete and restful enjoyment. the kloof they were threading afforded in itself a noble and romantic scene. great krantzes soaring up to the unclouded blue, walls of red ironstone gleaming like bronze in the sun-rays--or, in tier upon tier, peeping forth from festoons of creeper and anchored tree and spiky aloe. yonder a sweep of spur on the one hand, like a combing wave of tossing tumbling foliage, on the other a mighty cliff, forming a portal beyond which was glimpsed a round, rolling summit, high above in the distance-- but everywhere foliage, its many shades of green relieved here and there by the scarlet and pink of the wild geranium, the light blue of the plumbago, and half a dozen other splashes of colour, bright and harmonising; aglow, too, with the glancing of brilliant-winged birds, tuneful with their melodious piping and the murmuring hum of bees. and the air--strong, clear, exhilarating, such as never could be mistaken for the enervating steaminess of up-country heat--for the place was at a good elevation, and in one of the settled parts of the cape colony. gazing around upon all this, hilary blachland seemed to be drinking in new draughts of life. the bout of fever, in the throes of which we last saw him lying, helpless and alone, had proved to be an exceptionally sharp one; indeed, but for the accident of sybrandt happening along almost immediately after the matabele raid, the tidings of which had reached england, as we have seen--it is probable that a fatal termination might have ensued. but sybrandt had tended him with devoted and loyal _camaraderie_, and when sufficiently restored, he had decided to sell off everything and clear out. "you'll come back again, blachland," sybrandt had said. "mark my words, you'll come back again. we all do." and he had answered that perhaps he would, but not just yet awhile. he had gone down country to the seaside, but the heat at durban was so great at the time of year as to counteract the beneficial effect of the sea air. then he had bethought himself of george bayfield, a man he had known previously and liked, and who had more than once pressed him to pay him a visit at his farm in the eastern province. and now, here he was. a great feeling of restfulness and self-gratulation was upon him. he was free once more, free for a fresh clean start. the sequence of his foolishness, which had hung around his neck like a millstone, for years, had been removed, had suddenly fallen off like a load. for he had come to see things clearer now. his character had changed and hardened during that interval, and he had come to realise that hitherto, his views of life, and his way of treating its conditions, had been very much those of a fool. george bayfield had received him with a very warm welcome. he was a colonial man, and had never been out of his native land, yet contrasting them as they stood together it was blachland who looked the harder and more weather-beaten of the two, so thorough an acclimatising process had his up-country wanderings proved. bayfield was a man just the wrong side of fifty, and a widower. two of his boys were away from home, and at that time his household consisted of a small son of eleven, and a daughter--of whom more anon. the kloof opened out into a wide open valley, covered mainly with rhenoster brush and a sprinkling of larger shrubs in clumps. from this valley on either side, opened lateral kloofs, similar to the one from which they had just emerged, kloofs dark with forest and tangled thickets, very nurseries for tiger and wild-dogs, bayfield declared--but they had the compensating element of affording good sport whenever he wanted to go out and shoot a bushbuck or two--as in the present case. his boundary lines ran right along the high _rand_ which shut in the broad valley on either side, and the farm was an excellent one for sheep and ostriches. in fact the valley portion of it was a perfect network of wire fencing, and in their respective "camps" the great black bipeds stalked to and fro, uttering their truculent boom, or lazily picking at the aromatic grasses, which constituted their natural and aboriginal food. and the name of the place was lannercost. "these confounded ostriches spoil half the shooting on the place, and, for the matter of that, anywhere," remarked bayfield, as they ambled along through one of the large camps, where one exceptionally fierce bird hung about their flank, only kept from a nearer approach by the presence of the two dogs. "you flush a covey of partridges or a big troop of guinea-fowl, and away they go and squat in complete security under the wing of some particularly `kwai' bird in the next camp. it's beastly tantalising. ever shot any wild ostriches up-country, blachland?" "yes, on two occasions--and i enjoyed it for that very reason. i was held up once on top of a rail for nearly two hours besieged on each side by an infuriated tame one. had to wait until dark to get down. so you see it was a kind of poetic justice to turn the tables on the wild ones." "rather. these are good game preservers though, in that they keep the niggers from killing the small bucks in the camps. look at those few springbuck i'm trying to preserve. they'd all have been killed off if it wasn't for the `kwai' birds in the camp. by george! the sun'll be down before we get home. that isn't good for a man with fever still in his system at this time of year." "oh, that's no matter. i'm a good deal too tough." "don't you be so sure about that. we'd better push the nags on a bit." the house stood at the head of the valley, and had been growing larger and larger as they drew near. the sun was dropping, and that wondrously beautiful glow which heralds his departure from the vivid, clear south african day was upon the surroundings, softening, toning everything. hundreds of doves cooed melodiously from the sprays, and as they passed through a gateway, ascending a winding path between high quince hedges, clouds of twittering finks and long-tailed mouse-birds scattered with a whirr on either side of the way. spreuws, too, whistling among the tall fig-trees in the orchard, helped to swell the chorus of nature's evensong. "there are a sight too many of these small birds," observed bayfield. "they want keeping down. sonny's getting lazy with that air-gun of his. they'll play the mischief with the garden if he gives them much more rope. there he is, the _schepsel_. hi! sonny!" he called out, as a good-looking boy came down the path to meet them. "why don't you thin off some of these birds? look at 'em all. no one would think you'd got an air-gun and half a dozen catapults." "the gun's out of order, father," answered the boy. "it's always getting out of order. those air-guns are frauds. where's lyn?" "she was about just now. we watched you from beyond the third gate. there she is." following his gaze they descried a white-clad feminine form in front of the house, which they were now very near. chapter four. lyn. "well, mr blachland, what luck have you had?" the speaker was standing on the stoep, whither she had come out to meet them. she was rather a tall girl, with a great deal of golden hair, arranged in some wonderful way of her own which somehow enhanced its volume without appearing loose or untidy. she had blue eyes which looked forth straight and frank, and an exquisite skin, which even the fierce glare of the summer sun, and a great deal of open-air life had not in the least roughened, and of which a few tiny freckles, rather adding piquancy to a sweetly pretty face, oval, refined and full of character, were the only trace. if there was a fault to be found in the said face, it was that its owner showed her gums slightly when she laughed--but the laugh was so bright, so whole-hearted, and lighted up the whole expression so entrancingly that all but the superlatively hypercritical lost sight of the defect altogether. "he's bowled over that thundering big bushbuck ram we've been trying for so often in siever's kloof, lyn," answered her father for his guest. "well done!" cried the girl. "you know, mr blachland, some of the people around here were becoming quite superstitious about that buck. they were beginning to declare he couldn't be killed. i suggested a silver bullet such as they had to make for those supernatural stags in the old german legends." "a charge of treble a was good enough this time--no, i think i used loepers," laughed blachland. "i almost began to believe in it myself," went on the girl. "some of our best shots around here seemed invariably to miss that particular buck, mr earle for instance, and stephanus bosch, and, i was nearly saying--father--" "oh don't, then," laughed bayfield. "a prophet has no honour in his own country. keep up the tradition, lyn." "and, as for the englishman, the one that came over here with the earles, why he missed it both barrels, and they drove it right over him too." "by the way, lyn," said her father, "what was that britisher's name? i've clean forgotten." "that's not strange, for you'll hardly believe it, but so have i." "um--ah--no, we won't believe it. a good-looking young fellow like that!" "even then i've forgotten it. yes, he was a nice-looking boy." "boy!" cried her father. "why, the fellow must be a precious deal nearer thirty than twenty." "well, and what's that but a boy?" "thanks awfully, miss bayfield," said blachland. "the implication is grateful and comforting to a battered fogey of a precious deal nearer forty than thirty." for answer the girl only laughed--that bright, whole-hearted laugh of hers. it was a musical laugh too, full-throated, melodious. she and her father's guest were great friends. though now living somewhat of an out-of-the-world life, she had been well-educated, and her tastes were artistic. she drew and painted with no mean skill, and her musical attainments were above the average. so far from feeling bored and discontented with the comparative isolation of her lot, she had an affection for the free and healthy conditions of her surroundings, the beauties of which, moreover, her artistic temperament rendered her capable of perceiving and appreciating. then this stranger had come into their life, and at first she had been inclined to stand somewhat in awe of him. he was so much older than herself, and must have seen so much; moreover, his quiet-mannered demeanour, and the life-worn look of his firm dark countenance, seemed to cover a deal of character. but he had entered so thoroughly and sympathetically into her tastes and pursuits that the little feeling of shyness had worn off within the first day, and now, after a fortnight, she had come to regard his presence in their midst as a very great acquisition indeed. "i say, lyn," struck in her father. "better take blachland inside--yes, and light up some logs in the fireplace. there's a sharp tinge in the air after sundown, which isn't good for a man with up-country fever in his bones, as i was telling him just now. i must just go and take a last look round." "did you do any more to my drawing to-day?" asked hilary, as the two stood within the sitting-room together, watching the efforts of a yellow-faced hottentot girl to make the logs blaze up. "i've nearly finished it. i've only got to put in a touch or two." "may i see it now?" "no--not until it is finished. i may not be satisfied with it then, and tear it up." "but you are not to. i'm certain that however it turns out it will be too good to treat in that way." "oh, mr blachland, i am surprised at such a speech from you," she said, her eyes dancing with mischief. "why, that's the sort of thing that english boy might have said. but you! oh!" "well, i mean it. you know i never hesitate to criticise and that freely. look at our standing fight over detail in foreground, as a flagrant instance." the drawing under discussion was a water-colour sketch of the house and its immediate surroundings. he would treasure it as a reminder after he had gone, he declared, when asking her to undertake it. to which she had rejoined mischievously that he seemed in a great hurry to talk about "after he had gone," considering that he had only just come. now the entrance of george bayfield and his youngest born put an end to the discussion, and soon they sat down to supper. "man, mr blachland, but that is a _mooi_ buck," began the boy. "jafta says he never saw a _mooi-er_ one." "perhaps it'll bring you luck," said lyn, looking exceedingly reposeful and sweet, behind the tea-things, in her twenty-year-old dignity at the head of the table. "i don't know," was the reply. "i did something once that was supposed to bring frightful ill-luck, and for a long time it seemed as if it was going to. but--indirectly it had just the opposite effect." "was that up-country, mr blachland?" chimed in the boy eagerly. "do tell us about it." "perhaps some day, fred. but it's a thing that one had better have left alone." "these children'll give you no peace if you go on raising their curiosity in that way," said bayfield. "i'll go up-country when i'm big," said the boy. "are you going again, mr blachland?" "i don't know, fred. you see, i've only just come down." the boy said no more on the subject. he had an immense admiration for their guest, who, when they were alone together, would tell him tales of which he never wearied--about hunting and trading, and lo bengula, and experiences among savages far wilder and more formidable than their own half-civilised and wholly deteriorated kaffirs. but he was sharp enough to notice that at other times the subject of "up-country" was not a favourite one with blachland. perhaps the latter was tired of it as he had had so much. at any rate, with a gumption rare in small boys of his age, fred forbore to worry the topic further. this was one of those evenings which the said guest was wont to prize now, and was destined in the time to come to look back upon as among the very happiest experiences of his life. he regarded his host indeed with a whole-hearted envy, that such should be his daily portion. there was just enough sharpness in the atmosphere to render indoors and a bright, snug fire in a well-lighted room especially reposeful and cosy, as they adjourned to the sitting-room where lyn's piano was. "fill up, blachland," said his host, pushing over a large bladder tobacco-pouch. "where's my pipe? no--not that one. the deep one with the wire cover." "i've got it, father," cried lyn. "i'm filling it for you." "thanks, darling," as she brought it over. "you know, blachland, my after-supper pipe never tastes so good unless this little girlie fills it for me. she's done so ever since she was a wee kiddie so high." blachland smiled to himself, rather sadly, as he watched the long tapering fingers pressing down the tobacco into the bowl, and wondered how his friend would feel when the time came--and come it must, indeed any day might bring it--when he would have no one to render this and a hundred and one other little services of love, such as he had noticed during his stay--when bayfield should be left lonely, and the bright and sweet and sunny presence which irradiated this simple home should be transferred to another. somehow the thought was distasteful to him, vaguely, indefinably so, but still distasteful. meanwhile lyn had opened the piano, and after an appeal to them for any preference in the way of songs, which was met by an assurance that any and all were equally acceptable, had begun singing. the two men sat back in their armchairs at the further end of the room, listening in supremest content. from the first blachland had excused himself from attending her at the piano. he wanted thoroughly to enjoy her performance, which he could not do standing fussing around, and lyn had appreciated the real and practical compliment thus conveyed. and he did enjoy it. song after song she sang, now grave and pathetic, now gay and arch, and it seemed to him he could sit there listening for ever. hers was no concert-hall voice, but it was very sweet and true, and was entirely free from mannerism. she did not think it necessary to roll her r's in the approved professional style whenever that consonant came at the end of a word, or to pronounce "love" exactly according to its phonetic spelling, but every word was enunciated distinctly, and therefore as intelligible as though she had been talking. in short, her singing was utterly without self-consciousness or affectation, and therein lay no small a proportion of its charm. "there! that's enough for one night!" she cried at last, closing the instrument. "not for us," declared blachland. "but you mustn't overstrain your voice. really to me this has been an immense treat." "i'm so glad," said the girl brightly. "i suppose, though, you don't hear much music up-country. don't you miss it a great deal?" "yes, indeed," he answered, and then a picture crossed his mind of evening after evening, and hermia yawning, and reiterating how intensely bored to death she was. what on earth was it that made retrospect so utterly distasteful to him now? he would have given all he possessed to be able to blot that episode out of his life altogether. hermia the chances were as five hundred to one he would never set eyes on again-- and if he did, she was powerless to injure him; for she had not the slightest legal hold upon him whatever. but the episode was there, a black, unsavoury, detestable fact, and it there was no getting round. "now, sonny, it's time for you to turn in," said bayfield. "by george, i'll have to think seriously about sending that nipper to school," he added, as the boy, having said good-night, went out of the room. "but hang it, what'll we do without the chappie? he's the only one left. but he ought to learn more than lyn can teach him now." "father, you _are_ mean," laughed the girl. "reflecting on my careful tuition that way. isn't he, mr blachland?" "i wonder how it would be," pursued bayfield, "to make some arrangement with earle and send him over there four or five days a week to be coached by that new english teacher they've got." "who is he?" said blachland. "a varsity man?" "'tisn't `he.' it's a she," returned the other, with a very meaning laugh. "a regular high-flyer too. mrs earle isn't so fond of her as she might be, but i expect that young britisher has put earle's nose out of joint in that quarter. they say she's a first-rate coach, though." "now, father, you're not to start talking scandal," said lyn. "i don't believe there's any harm in mrs fenham at all. and she isn't even pretty." "ho-ho! who's talking scandal now?" laughed her father. "taking away another woman's personal appearance, eh, lyn? by the way, there are several round there you won't get to agree with you on that head." "oh, she's married, then?" said blachland, though as a matter of fact the subject did not interest him in the least. "has been," returned bayfield. "she's a widow--a young widow, and with all due deference to lyn's opinion, rather a fetching one. now, isn't that a whole code of danger-signals in itself? get out some grog, little girl," he added, "and then i suppose you'll want to be turning in." "yes, it's time i did," replied lyn, as she dived into a sideboard in fulfilment of the last request. "good night, mr blachland. good night, old father. now, you're not to sit filling up mr blachland with all sorts of gossip. do you hear?" "all right," with a wink over at his guest. "good night, my little one." blachland had long ceased to wonder--even if he had done so at first--at the extraordinary tenderness existing between bayfield and this child of his. cudgel his experience as he would, he could find in it no instance of a girl anything like this one. sunny beauty, grace, and the most perfect refinement, a disposition of rare sweetness, yet withal plenty of character--why, it would require a combination of the best points of any half-dozen girls within that experience to make up one lyn bayfield, and then the result would be a failure. to his host he said as much when they were alone together. the latter warmed up at once. "ah, you've noticed that, have you, blachland? well, i suppose you could hardly have been in the house the short time you have without noticing it. make allowances for an old fool, but there never was such a girl as my lyn--no, never. and--i may lose her any day." "great heavens, bayfield, surely not! what's wrong? heart?" "no--no. not that way, thank god--by the by, i'm sorry i startled you. i mean she's bound to marry some day." "ah, yes, i see," returned blachland, reassured, yet furtively hoping that the smile wherewith he accepted the reassurance was not a very sickly one. but the other did not notice it, and now fairly on the subject, launched out into a narrative of lyn's sayings and doings, as it seemed, from the time of her birth right up till now, and it was late before he pulled up, with profuse apologies for having bored the very soul out of his guest, and that on a subject in which the latter could take but small interest. but blachland reassured him by declaring that he had not been bored in the very least, and so far from feeling small interest in the matter, he had been very intensely interested. and the strangest thing of all was that he meant it--every word. chapter five. an episode in siever's kloof. the days sped by and still hilary blachland remained as a guest at george bayfield's farm. he had talked about moving on, but the suggestion had been met by a frank stare of astonishment on the part of his host. "where's your hurry, man?" had replied the latter. "why, you've only just come." "only just come! you don't seem to be aware, bayfield, that i've been here nearly four weeks." "no, i'm not. but what then? what if it's four or fourteen or forty? you don't want to go up-country again just yet. by the way, though, it must be mighty slow here." "now, bayfield, i don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but you're talking bosh, rank bosh. i don't believe you know it, though. slow indeed!" "perhaps mr blachland's tired of us, father," said lyn demurely, but with a spice of mischief. "well, you know, you yourselves can have too much of a not very good thing," protested hilary, rather lamely. "ha-ha! now we'll turn the tables. who's talking bosh this time?" said bayfield triumphantly. "man, mr blachland, you mustn't go yet," cut in small fred excitedly. "stop and shoot some more bushbucks." "very well, fred. no one can afford to run clean counter to public opinion. so that settles it," replied blachland gaily. "that's all right," said bayfield. "and we haven't taken him over to earle's yet. i know what we'll do. we'll send and let earle know we are all coming over for a couple of nights, and he must get up a shoot in between. then we'll show him the pretty widow." a splutter from fred greeted the words. "she isn't pretty a bit," he pronounced. "a black, ugly thing." "look out, sonny," laughed his father. "she'll take it out of you when she's your schoolmissis." but the warning was received by the imp with a half growl, half jeer. the prospect of that ultimate fate, which had already been dangled over him, and which he only half realised, may have helped to prejudice him against one whom he could not but regard as otherwise than his natural enemy. the unanimity wherewith the household of three voted against his departure was more than gratifying to hilary blachland. looking back upon life since he had been bayfield's guest, he could only declare to himself that it was wholly delightful. the said bayfield, with his unruffled, take-us-as-you-find-us way of looking at things--well, the more he saw of the man the more he liked him, and the two were on the most easy terms of friendship of all, which may best be defined that neither ever wanted the other to do anything the other didn't want to. even the small boy regarded him as an acquisition, while lyn--well, the frank, friendly, untrammelled intercourse between them constituted, he was forced to admit to himself, the brightness and sunshine of the pleasant, reposeful days which were now his. he had no reason to rate himself too highly, even in his own estimation, and the last three or four weeks spent in her daily society brought this more and more home to him. well, whatever he had sown, whatever he might reap, in short, whatever might or might not be in store for him, he was the better now, would be to the end of his days, the better for having known her. indeed it seemed to him now as though his life were divided into two complete periods--the time before he had known lyn bayfield, and subsequently. thus reflecting, he was pacing the stoep smoking an after-breakfast pipe. the valley stretched away, radiant in the morning sunshine, and the atmosphere was sharp and brisk with a delicious exhilaration. down in the camps he could see the black dots moving, where great ostriches stalked, and every now and then the triple boom, several times repeated, from the throat of one or other of the huge birds, rolled out upon the morning air. the song of a kaffir herd, weird, full-throated, but melodious, arose from the further hillside, where a large flock of angora goats was streaming forth to its grazing ground. "what would you like to do to-day, blachland?" said his host, joining him. "i've got to ride over to theunis nel's about some stock, but it means the best part of the day there, so i don't like suggesting your coming along. they're the most infernal boring crowd, and you'd wish yourself dead." hilary thought this would very likely be the case, but before he could reply there came an interruption--an interruption which issued from a side door somewhere in the neighbourhood of the kitchen, for they were standing at the end of the stoep, an interruption wearing an ample white "kapje," and with hands and wrists all powdery with flour, but utterly charming for all that. "what's that you're plotting, father? no, you're not to take mr blachland over to any tiresome dutchman's. no wonder he talks about going away. besides, i want to take him with me. i'm going to paint-- in siever's kloof, and fred isn't enough of an escort." "i think i'll prefer that immeasurably, miss bayfield," replied he most concerned. "i shall be ready, then, in half an hour. and--i don't like `miss bayfield'--it sounds so stiff, and we are such old friends now. you ought to say lyn. oughtn't he, father, now that he is quite one of ourselves?" "well, _i_ should--after that," answered bayfield, comically, blowing out a big cloud of smoke. but while he laughed pleasantly, promising to avail himself of the privilege, hilary was conscious of a kind of mournful impression that the frank ingenuousness of the request simply meant that she placed him on the same plane as her father, in short, regarded him as one of a bygone generation. well, she was right. he was no chicken after all, he reminded himself grimly. "i say, lyn, i'm going with you too!" cried fred, who was seated on a waggon-pole a little distance off, putting the finishing touches to a new catapult-handle. "all right. i'll be ready in half an hour," replied the girl. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ one of the prettiest bits in siever's kloof was the very spot whereon blachland had shot the large bushbuck ram, and here the two had taken up their position. for nearly an hour lyn had been very busy, and her escort seated there, lazily smoking a pipe, would every now and then overlook her work, offering criticisms, and making suggestions, some of which were accepted, and some were not. fred, unable to remain still for ten minutes at a time, was ranging afar with his air-gun--now put right again--and, indeed, with it he was a dead shot. "i never can get the exact shine of these red krantzes," lyn was saying. "that one over there, with the sun just lighting it up now, i know i shall reproduce it either the colour of a brick wall or a dead smudge. the shine is what i want to get." "and you may get it, or you may not, probably the latter. there are two things, at any rate, which nobody has ever yet succeeded in reproducing with perfect accuracy, the colour of fire and golden hair--like yours. yes, it's a fact. they make it either straw colour or too red, but always dead. there's no shine in it." lyn laughed, lightheartedly, unthinkingly. "true, o king! but i expect you're talking heresy all the same. i wonder what that boy is up to?" she broke off, looking around. "why, he's a mile or so away up the kloof by this time. do you ever get tired of this sort of life, lyn?" "tired? no. why should i? whenever i go away anywhere, after the first novelty has worn off, i always long to get back." "and how long a time does it take to compass that aspiration?" "about a week. at the end of three i am desperately homesick, and long to get back here to old father, and throw away gloves and let my hands burn." blachland looked at the hands in question--long-fingered, tapering, but smooth and delicate and refined--brown indeed with exposure to the air, but not in the least roughened. what an enigma she was, this girl. he watched, her as she sat there, sweet and cool and graceful as she plied her brushes, the wide brim of her straw hat turned up in front so as not to impede her view. every movement was a picture, he told himself--the quick lifting of the eyelid as she looked at her subject, the delicate supple turn of the wrist as she worked in her colouring. and the surroundings set forth so perfectly the central figure--the varying shades of the trees and their dusky undergrowth, the great krantz opposite, fringed with trailers, bristling with spiky aloes lining up along its ledges. bright spreuws flashed and piped, darting forth from its shining face; and other bird voices, the soft note of the hoepoe, and the cooing of doves kept the warm golden air pleasant with harmony. "what is your name the short for, lyn?" he said, picking up one of her drawing-books, whereon it was traced--in faded ink upon the faded cover. she laughed. "it isn't a name at all really. it's only my initials. i have three ugly christian names represented under the letters l.y.n., and it began with a joke among the boys when i was a very small kiddie. but now i rather like it. don't you?" "yes. very much... why, what's the matter now?" for certain shrill shouts were audible from the thick of the bush, but at no great distance away. they recognised fred's voice, and he was hallooing like mad. "lyn! mr blachland! quick--quick! man, here's a whacking big snake!" "oh, let's go and see!" cried the girl, hurriedly putting down her drawing things, and springing to her feet. "no--no. you stay here. i'll go. you're quite safe here. stay, do you hear?" she turned in surprise. her companion was quite agitated. "why, it's safe enough!" she said with a laugh, but still wondering. "i'm not in the least afraid of snakes. i've killed several of them. come along." and answering fred's shouts she led the way through the grass and stones at an astonishing pace, entirely disregarding his entreaties to allow him to go first. "there! there!" cried fred, his fist full of stones, pointing to some long grass almost hiding a small boulder about a dozen yards away. "he's squatting there. he's a big black ringhals. i threw him with three stones--didn't hit him, though. man, but he's `kwai.' look, look! there!" disturbed anew by these fresh arrivals, the reptile shot up his head with an ugly hiss. the hood was inflated, and waved to and fro wickedly, as the great coil dragged heavily over the ground. "there! now you can have him!" cried fred excitedly, as blachland stooped and picked up a couple of large stones. these, however, he immediately dropped. "no. let him go," he said. "he wants to get away. he won't interfere with us." "but kill him, mr blachland. aren't you going to kill him?" urged the boy. "no. i never kill a snake if i can help it. because of something that once happened to me up-country." "so! what was it?" said the youngster, with half his attention fixed regretfully on the receding reptile, which, seeing the coast clear, was rapidly making itself scarce. "that's something of a story--and it isn't the time for telling it now." but a dreadful suspicion crossed the unsophisticated mind of the boy. was it possible that blachland was afraid? it did not occur to him that a man who had shot lions in the open was not likely to be afraid of an everyday ringhals--not at the time, at least. afterwards he would think of it. they went back to where they had been sitting before, fred chattering volubly. but he could not sit still for long, any more than he had been able to before, and presently he was off again. "you are wondering why i let that snake go," said blachland presently. "did you think i was afraid of it?" "well, no, i could hardly think that," answered lyn, looking up quickly. "yet i believe you thought something akin to it," he rejoined, with a curious smile. "listen now, and i'll tell you if you care to hear--only don't let the story go any further. by the way, you are only the second i have ever told it to." "i feel duly flattered. go on. i am longing to hear it. i'm sure it's exciting." "it was for me at the time--very." and then he told her of the exploration of the king's grave, and the long hours of that awful day, between two terrible forms of imminent death, told it so graphically as to hold her spellbound. "there, that sounds like a tolerably tall up-country yarn," he concluded, "but it's hard solid fact for all that." "what a horrible experience," said lyn, with something of a shudder. "and now you won't kill any snake?" "no. that _mamba_ held me at its mercy the whole of that day--and i have spared every snake i fell in with ever since. a curious sort of gratitude, you will say, but--there it is." "i don't wonder the natives had that superstition about the king's spirit passing into that snake." "no, more do i. the belief almost forced itself upon me, as i sat there those awful hours. but, as old pemberton said, there was no luck about meddling with such places." "no, indeed. what strange things you must have seen in all your wanderings. it must be something to look back upon. but i suppose it will go on all your life. you will return to those parts again, until--" "until i am past returning anywhere," he replied. "perhaps so, and perhaps it is better that way after all. and now i think it is time to round up fred, and take the homeward track." "yes, i believe it is," was all she said. a strange unwonted silence was upon her during their homeward ride. she was thinking a great deal of the man beside her. he interested her as nobody ever had. she had stood in awe of him at first, but now she hoped it would be a long time before he should find it necessary to leave them. what an ideal companion he was, too. she felt her mind the richer for all the ideas she had exchanged with him--silly, crude ideas, he must have thought them, she told herself with a little smile. but if she was silent, fred was not. he talked enough for all three the rest of the way home. chapter six. concerning the unexpected. "how do, earle?" cried george bayfield, pulling up his horses at the gate of the first named. "so, so, bayfield. how's all yourselves? how do, miss bayfield? had a cold drive? ha--ha! it must have been nipping when you started this morning. just look at the frost even now," with a comprehensive sweep of an arm terminating in a pipe over the dew-gemmed veldt, a sheeny sparkle of silver in the newly risen sun. "but you--it's given you a grand colour anyway." "yes, it was pretty sharp, mr earle, but we were well wrapped up," answered lyn, as he helped her down. then, as an ulster-clad figure disentangled itself from the spider--"this is mr blachland, who is staying with us." "how do, sir? pleased to meet you. not out from home, are you?" with a glance at the other's bronzed and weather-beaten countenance. "no. up-country," answered bayfield for him. "had fever, obliged to be careful,"--this as though explaining the voluminousness of the aforesaid wrapping. "so? didn't know you had any one staying with you, bayfield." "by jove! didn't i mention it? well, i wrote that _brievje_ in a cast-iron hurry, i remember." "that's nothing. the more the merrier," heartily rejoined earle, who was a jolly individual of about the same number of years as blachland. "come inside. come inside. we'll have breakfast directly. who's this?" shading his eyes to look down the road. "that's fred and jafta, and a spare horse. the youngster won't be in the way, will he, earle? i don't let him shoot yet, except with an air-gun, but he was death on coming along." "no--no. that's all right. bring him along." their hostess met them in the doorway. she was a large, finely built woman, with a discontented face, but otherwise rather good-looking. she was cordial enough, however, towards the new arrivals. they constituted a break in the monotony of life; moreover, she was fond of lyn for her own sake. "let's have breakfast as soon as you can, em," said earle. "we want to get along. i think we'll have a good day. there are three troops of guinea-fowl in those upper kloofs, and the _hoek_ down along the _spruit_ is just swarming with blekbuck." during these running comments a door had opened, and someone entered. "how d'you do, mrs fenham?" said bayfield, greeting the new arrival cordially. he was followed by lyn, somewhat less cordial. then arose earle's voice: "mrs fenham--mr--there now, i believe i didn't quite catch your name--" "blachland." "ah, yes, i beg your pardon--blachland. mr blachland." hilary bowed--then obliged by that other's outstretched hand to put forth his, found it enclosed in a tolerably firm clasp, by that of-- hermia. thus they stood, looking into each other's eyes, and in that brief glance, for all his habitual self-control, he would have been more than human had he succeeded in concealing the unbounded surprise--largely mingled with dismay--which flashed across his face. she for her part, if she had failed to read it, and in that fraction of a minute to resolve to turn it to account--well, she would not have been hermia saint clair. to both the surprise was equal and complete. they had no more idea of each other's propinquity than they had--say, of the sultan of turkey suddenly arriving to take part in the day's sport. yet, of the two, the woman was the more self-controlled. "are you fond of sport?" she murmured sweetly, striving not to render too palpable to other observers the dart of mingled warning and defiance which she flashed at him. "yes, as a rule," he answered indifferently, taking his cue. "been rather off colour of late. touch of fever." there was a touch of irony in the tone, to the only one there who had the key to its burden. for the words brought back the long and helpless bout of the dread malady, when this woman had left him alone--to die, but for the chance arrival of a staunch comrade. "well, lug that big coat off, old chap," said earle, whose jovial nature moved him to prompt familiarity. "unless you still feel it too cold, that is. we're going to have breakfast." the coat referred to was not without its importance in the situation. with the collar partly turned up, blachland had congratulated himself that it helped to conceal the effect of this extraordinary and unwelcome surprise from the others, and such, in fact, was the case. for nothing is more difficult to dissemble in the eyes of bystanders, in a chance and unwelcome meeting, than the fact of previous acquaintanceship. it may be accounted for by the explanation of extraordinary resemblance, but such is so thin as to be absolutely transparent, and calculated to impose upon nobody. and of this hilary blachland was thoroughly aware. they sorted themselves into their places. hilary, by a kind of process of natural selection, found himself seated next to lyn. hermia was nearly opposite, and next to her three of the earle progeny-- preternaturally well-behaved. but on her other side was a vacant chair, and a place laid as though for somebody. there was plenty of talk going on, which enabled blachland to keep out of it and observe. first of all, what the deuce was she doing there? hermia masquerading as instructor of youth! oh, heavens, the joke would have been enough to send him into a fit, had he only heard of it! but there she was, and it would be safe to say that there was not a living being on the wide earth, however detestable, whose presence would not have been warmly welcome to him in comparison with that of this one seated there opposite. what on earth was her game, he wondered, and what had become of spence? here she was, passing as a widow under the name of fenham. and this was the unknown fair who had been the subject of their jokes, and lyn's disapproval! why, even on the way over that morning, bayfield had been full of chaff, pre-calculating the effect of her charms upon himself. great heavens, yes! it was all too monstrous--too grotesque entirely. "are you still feeling cold?" it was lyn who had turned to him, amid all the chatter, and there was a sort of indefinably confidential ring in her voice, begotten of close friendship and daily intercourse. was it something of the kind that softened his as he replied to her? but even while he did so he met the dark eyes opposite, the snap of which seemed to convey that to their owner nothing could go unobserved. "oh no, i'm quite all right now," he answered lightly. and then, under cover of all the fanning talk that was going on between earle and bayfield, he talked to lyn, mostly about matters they had discussed before. a sort of ironical devil moved him. he would let this woman opposite, imperceptibly watching every look, weighing every word, understand that she and her malevolence, whether dormant or active, counted absolutely nothing with him. there was the sound of a footstep outside, and the door was opened. "awful sorry i'm so late, mrs earle," cried a voice--a young and refined english voice--as its owner entered. "how d'you do, miss bayfield--er--how d'you do?" this to the only one who was personally unknown to the speaker, and who for that very reason seemed to have the effect of a damper upon his essentially english temperament. "mr blachland--mr west," introduced their host. "what?" almost shouted the last-named. "blachland, did you say? not hilary! why--it is! hilary, my dear old chap, why, this is real good. by jove, to think of my running against you here. where on earth have you dropped from? earle, you've heard me talk about this chap. he's my first cousin." and grabbing hold of the other's hands, he started wringing them as though that newly found relative were the harmless, necessary village pump. "who'd have thought of running against you here?" went on percival west volubly. "why, i thought you were in some out-of-way place up-country. well, this is a gaudy surprise!" "isn't it? but somebody or other has defined this country as the land of surprises, percy. so it's got to keep up its character," said blachland, with a queer smile, fully conscious that the irony of the rejoinder would not be lost upon at any rate one other at the table. "i say, west. get on with your grub, old chap," said earle. "you can have a yarn on the way. we want to make a start, you know." "right you are!" cried percival, with a jolly laugh, as he slid into the vacant chair beside hermia. but even amid his surprise, he did not omit to give the latter the good morning in an unconscious change of tone, which in its turn was not lost upon hilary blachland; for in it was an unconscious softening, which with the look which came into the young fellow's eyes as he turned to the woman beside him, caused those of his newly found relative to open--figuratively--very wide indeed. for two considerable surprises had been sprung upon him--enough in all conscience for one morning, yet here was a third. this young fool was already soft upon hermia. as to that there could be no doubt. here was a situation with a vengeance, the thinker told himself. how on earth was it going to pan out? and his anticipations on that head were of no pleasurable nature. "i say, west!" cried bayfield. "that old ram we drove over you the other day has come to a bad end at last. blachland's knocked him over." "oh, well done, hilary, old chap. i suppose you've had a great time with big game, eh? shocked over no end of lions and elephants, and all that sort of thing?" "a few, yes," answered the other, rising, for a signal for a move had been given. a few minutes of filling up cartridge-belts and fastening _reims_ to saddles, and other preparations, and the sporting party was ready. "good luck, father. good luck, mr blachland," said lyn, as she stood watching them start. "that ought to bring it," answered the latter, as he swung himself into his saddle. but hermia was not among those who were outside. percival, who had been, had dived inside again blachland did not fail to notice. he emerged in a moment, however, looking radiantly happy and brimming over with light-hearted spirits. "now, hilary, old chap, we can have a yarn," he said, as they started, for the others had the start of them by a hundred yards or so. "so you're stopping with bayfield? if only i'd known that, wouldn't i have been over to look you up. good chap bayfield. nice little girl of his too, but--not much in her, i fancy." "there you're wrong, percy. there's a great deal in her. but--how did you fall in with earle?" "knew him through another johnny i was thick with on board ship, and he asked me over to his place. had a ripping good time here, too. i say, what d'you think of that mrs fenham? fancy a splendid woman like that spending life hammering a lot of unlicked cubs into shape. isn't it sinful?" "why didn't you say you were coming out, percy? drop a line or something?" went on his relative, feeling unaccountably nauseated by what he termed to himself the boy's brainless rattle. "drop a line! why, that's just where the joke comes in! we none of us knew where on earth you were exactly. in point of fact, i came over here to find you, and by george i have! never expected to find you so easily, though." "nothing wrong, eh?" "no. but uncle luke is dying to see you again. he said i must be sure and bring you back with me." the other looked surprised. then his face softened very perceptibly. "is that a fact, percy? why, i thought he never wanted to set eyes on me again as long as he lived." "then you thought jolly well wrong. he does. so you must just make up your mind to go home when i do." "why are you so keen on it, percy? why, man, it might be immeasurably to your advantage if i never went back at all." "look here, hilary, if you really mean that, i'm not a beastly cad yet." "well, i don't really mean it," said the other, touched by the young fellow's chivalrous single-heartedness. "perhaps we may bring off your scheme all right. i would like to see the dear old chap again. i must have treated him very shabbily. and the old canon--is he still to the fore?" "rather, and as nailing good an old sort as ever. he wants to see you again too--almost as much as uncle luke does." "ah, he always was a straight 'un--not an ounce of shoddy or humbug about him--" "come on, you fellows, or we'll never get to work," shouted earle's voice, now very far ahead of them. and leaving their home talk and reminiscences for the present, they spurred on their steeds--to join the rest of the party. chapter seven. "it cannot be." in the conjecture that his cousin had fallen into an infatuation for hermia, hilary blachland was right--the only respect in which he had failed to grasp the full situation being that he had not fathomed the depth of that infatuation. he knew her little ways, none better; knew well how insidiously dangerous she could be to those who did not know them, when she saw fit to lay herself out to attract. that she was laying herself out to entrap percy was the solution of the whole problem. yet not all of it. she had been with the earles before percy's arrival, before she could even have known he was in the country at all. and what had become of spence? well, this, too, would be cleared up, for he knew as well as though she had told him in so many words, that before they parted again she meant to have a private talk with him, and an understanding, and to this he was not averse. it would probably be a stormy one, for he was not going to allow her to add young west to her list of victims; and this he was going to give her emphatically to understand. a rustle and a rush in front, and a blekbuck leaped out of the long grass almost at his horse's feet, for they were riding in line--a hundred yards or so apart. up went his gun mechanically--a crack and a suspicion of a puff of smoke. the graceful little animal turned a complete somersault, and lay, convulsively kicking its life away. another started up, crossing right in front of percival. the latter slipped to the ground in a moment, got a sight on, and turned it over neatly, at rather a long distance shot. "i say, bayfield. those two britishers are leading off well," said earle, as they pulled in their horses and lighted pipes, to wait till the other two should be ready to take the line again. there are more imposing, but few more enjoyable forms of sport, than this moving over a fine rolling expanse of bontebosch veldt, beneath the cloudless blue of the heavens, through the clear exhilarating air of an early african winter day; when game is plentiful, and anything may jump out, or rise at any moment; blekbuck or duiker, guinea-fowl or koorhaan, or partridge, with the possibility of a too confiding pauw, and other unconsidered trifles. all these conditions held good here, yet one, at any rate, of those privileged to enjoy them, keen sportsman as he was, felt that day that something was wanting--that a cloud was dimming the sun-lit beauty of the rolling plains, and an invisible weight crushing the exhilaration of each successful shot. blachland, pursuing his sport mechanically, was striving to shake off an unpleasant impression, and striving in vain. something seemed to have happened between yesterday and to-day. or was it the thought that lyn bayfield would be more or less in hermia's society throughout the whole of that day? yet, even if such were the case, what on earth did it matter to him? the day came to an end at last, but there had been nothing to complain of in the way of the sport. they had lunched in the veldt, in ordinary hunter fashion--and in the afternoon had got in among the guinea-fowl; and being lucky enough to break up the troop, had about an hour of pretty sport--for scattered birds lie well and rise well--and by the time they turned their faces homeward, were loaded up with about as much game--buck and birds--as the horses could conveniently carry. a flutter of feminine dresses was visible on the stoep, as they drew near the house, seeing which, an eager look came into percival west's face. it was not lost upon his kinsman, who smiled to himself sardonically, as he recalled how just such a light had been kindled in his own at one time, and by the same cause. what a long while ago that seemed--and to think, too, that it should ever have been possible. a chorus of congratulation arose as the magnitude of the bag became apparent. "those two britishers knocked spots out of us to-day!" cried earle. "bayfield and i can clean take a back seat." "you wouldn't call mr blachland a britisher, surely, mr earle?" struck in hermia. "why, he's shot lions up-country." "eh, has he? how d'you know?" asked earle eagerly--while he who was most concerned mentally started. "didn't he tell us so this morning?" she said, and her glance of mischief was not lost upon blachland, who remarked: "does that fact denationalise me, mrs fenham? you said i couldn't be counted a britisher." "well, you know what i meant." "oh, perfectly." there was a veiled cut-and-thrust between these two: imperceptible to the others--save one. that one was lyn. her straight instinct and true ear had warned her. "she is an adventuress," was the girl's mental verdict. "an impostor, who is hiding something. some day it will come out." now she said to herself, watching the two, "he doesn't like her. no, he doesn't." and there was more satisfaction in this conclusion than even its framer was aware of. throughout the evening, too, hilary found himself keenly observing new developments, or the possibility of such. at supper, they were mostly shooting all the day's bag over again, and going back over the incidents of other and similar days. percival, in his seat next hermia, was dividing his attention between his host's multifold reminiscence and his next-door neighbour, somewhat to the advantage of the latter. a new development came, however, and it was after they had all got up from the table, and some, at any rate, had gone out on to the stoep to see the moon rise. then it was, in the sudden transition from light to darkness, blachland felt his hand stealthily seized and something thrust into it--something which felt uncommonly like a tiny square of folded paper. hermia's wrap brushed him at the time, and hermia's voice, talking evenly to percival on the other side, arrested his ear. there was a good deal more talk, and lighting of pipes, and presently it was voted too cold to remain outside. but, on re-entering, the party had undergone diminution by two. mrs earle was looking more discontented than ever. "what's the odds?" chuckled her jolly spouse, with a quizzical wink at his two male guests. "they're a brace of britishers. they only want to talk home shop. fine woman that mrs fenham, isn't she, blachland?" "yes. how did you pick her up?" he replied, noticing that the discontented look had deepened on the face of his hostess, and bearing in mind bayfield's insinuations, thought that warm times might be in store for hermia. "oh, the wife found her. i hadn't anything to do with it. but she's first-rate in her own line: gets the nippers on no end. makes 'em learn, you know." would surprises never end? thought hilary blachland. here was an amazing one, at any rate, for he happened to know that hermia's mind, as far as the veriest rudiments of education were concerned, was pretty nearly a blank. how on earth, then, did she contrive to impart instruction to others? he did not believe she could, only that she had succeeded in humbugging these people most thoroughly. then they had manoeuvred lyn to the piano, and got her to sing, but hilary, leaning back in his chair, thought that somehow it did not seem the same as up there in her own home, when night after night he had sat revelling in the sweet, clear, true notes. and then the other two, entering from their moonlight stroll, had subsided into a corner together. the sight reminded him of spence, who must needs make an open book of his callow, silly face. percival was doing the same. "just as i thought," he said to himself, an hour later, as under cover of all the interchange of good nights, he managed to slip away for a moment to investigate the contents of the mysterious paper. "`meet to-morrow and have an explanation, or i may regret it all my life.' um--ah! very likely i shall do that in any case. still, i'm curious about the explanation part of it myself, so meet we will." "come along, old chap," said percival, grabbing him by the arm. "you've got to doss down in my diggings, and we'll have a good round jaw until we feel sleepy. phew! it's cold!" he added, as they got out on to the stoep--for percival's room was at the end of the stoep, and was quite shut off from the house. the moonlit veldt stretched away in dim beauty around, its stillness broken by the weird yelp of hunting jackals, or the soft whistle of the invisible plover overhead. they had been talking of all sorts of indifferent things. blachland knew, however, that the other wanted to talk on a subject that was not indifferent, and was shy to lead up to it. he must help him through directly, because he didn't want to be awake all night. but when they had turned in and had lit their pipes for a final smoke, percival began-- "i say, hilary, what do you think of that mrs fenham?" "rather short acquaintance to give an opinion upon, isn't it?" "no. skittles! but i say, old chap, she's devilish fetching, eh?" "so you seem to find. it strikes me, percy, you're making a goodish bit of running in that quarter. look out." the other laughed good-humouredly, happily in fact. "why `look out?' i mean making running there. by jove, i never came across any one like her!" blachland smiled grimly to himself behind a great puff of smoke. he had good reason to believe that statement. "it's a fact," went on percival. "but i say, old chap, she doesn't seem to fetch you at all. i'm rather glad, of course--in fact, devilish glad. still, i should have thought she'd be just the sort of woman who'd appeal to you no end. you must be getting _blase_." "my dear percy, a man's idiocies don't stay with him all his life, thank heaven--though their results are pretty apt to." "well, hilary, i'm mortal glad to have the field clear in this case, because i want you to help me." "i don't think you need any help. judging from the very brief period of observation vouchsafed to me, the lady herself seems able and willing to help you all she knows." "no, but you don't understand. i mean business here--real serious--" "strictly honourable--or--" the young fellow flushed up. "if any one else had said that--" he began, indignantly. "oh, don't be an ass. you surely don't expect me--me, mind--to cotton to heroics in a matter of this kind. what do you know about the woman? nothing." "i don't care about that i can't do without her." "she can do without you, i expect, eh?" "she can't. she told me so." "did she? now, percy, i don't want to hurt your feelings. but how many men do you suppose she has told the same thing to--in her time?" "none. her marriage was only one of convenience. she was forced into it." "of course. they always are. now, supposing she had told me, for instance, she couldn't do without me? what then?" "you? why, you never set eyes on her till this morning." "no. of course not. i was only putting a case. again, she's rather older than you." "there you're wrong. she's a year or two younger. she told me so." blachland, happening to know that she was, in fact, five or six years the young fellow's senior, went on appreciating the humours of the situation. and really these were great. "by jove! listen!" said the other suddenly, as a chattering and clucking of fowls was audible outside. "there's a jackal or a bushcat or something getting at the fowls. they roost in those low trees just outside. i'll get the gun, and if we put out the light, we may get a shot at him from the window." "not much," returned blachland decisively. "the window's at the head of my bed, not yours. i wouldn't have it opened this beastly cold night for a great deal. besides, think what a funk you'd set up among the women by banging off a gun at this ungodly hour. the hens must take their chance. now look here, percy," he went on, speaking earnestly and seriously, "take a word of warning from one who has seen a great deal more of the world, and the crookedness thereof, than you have, and chuck this business--for all serious purposes i mean. have your fun by all means--even to a fast and furious flirtation if you're that way disposed. but--draw the line at that, and draw it hard." "i wouldn't if i could, and i couldn't if i would. hilary--we are engaged." "what?" the word came with almost a shout. blachland had sat up in bed and was staring at his young kinsman in wild dismay. his pipe had fallen to the ground in his amazement over the announcement. "since when, if it's a fair question?" he added, somewhat recovering himself. "only this evening. i asked her to marry me and she consented." "then you must break it off at once. i tell you this thing can't come off, percy. it simply can't." "can't it? but it will. and look here, hilary, you're a devilish good chap, and all that--but i'm not precisely under your guardianship, you know. nor am i dependent upon anybody. i've got a little of my own, and besides, i can work." "oh, you young fool. go to sleep. you may wake up more sensible," he answered, not unkindly, and restraining the impulse to tell percival the truth then and there, but the thought that restrained him was the coming interview with hermia on the morrow. he was naturally reluctant to give her away unless absolutely necessary, but whatever the result of that interview, he would force her to free percival from her toils. to do him justice, the idea that such an exposure would involve himself too did not enter his mind--at least not then. "i think i will go to sleep, hilary, as you're so beastly unsympathetic," answered the younger man good-humouredly. "but as to the waking up--well, you and i differ as to the meaning of the word `sensible.' night-night." and soon a succession of light snores told that he was asleep, probably dreaming blissfully of the crafty and scheming adventuress who had fastened on to his young life to strangle it at the outset. but hilary blachland lay staring into the darkness--thinking, and ever thinking. "confound those infernal fowls!" he muttered, as the cackling and clucking, mingled this time with some fluttering, arose outside, soon after the extinguishing of the light. but the disturbance subsided--nor did it again arise that night, as he lay there, hour after hour, thinking, ever thinking. chapter eight. "you are in love with her." bright and clear and cold, the morning arose. there had been a touch of frost in the night, and the house, lying back in its enclosure of aloe fence, looked as though roofed with a sheeting of silver in the sparkle of the rising sun. the spreading veldt, too, in the flash of its dewy sheen, seemed to lend a deeper blue to the dazzling, unclouded vault above. the metallic clatter of milk-pails in the cattle-kraal hard by mingled with the deep-toned hum of kaffir voices; a troop of young ostriches turned loose were darting to and fro, or waltzing, and playfully kicking at each other; and so still and clear was the air, that the whistling call of partridges down in an old mealie land nearly a mile away was plainly audible. "where's west?" bayfield was saying, as three out of the four men were standing by the gate, finishing their early coffee. "oh, he's a lazy beggar," answered earle, putting down his cup on a stone. "he don't like turning out much before breakfast-time." "i believe you'll miss some of your fowls this morning, earle," said blachland. "there was a cat or something after them last night. they were kicking up the devil's own row outside our window. percy wanted to try a shot at it, whatever it was, but i choked him off that lay because i thought it'd scare the house." "might have been a two-legged cat," rejoined earle. "and it isn't worthwhile shooting even a poor devil of a thieving nigger for the sake of a chicken or two." "who are you wanting to shoot, mr earle?" "ah! good morning, mrs fenham. blachland was saying there was a cat or something after the fowls last night, and it was all he could do to keep west from blazing off a gun at it. i suggested it might have been a two-legged cat--ha--ha!" "possibly," she answered with a smile. "i'm going to take a little stroll. it's such a lovely morning. will you go with me, mr blachland?" "delighted," was the answer. the two left behind nudged each other. "old blachland's got it too," quoth earle, with a knowing wink. "i say, though, the young 'un 'll be ready to cut his throat when he finds he's been stolen a march on. they all seem to tumble when she comes along. i say, bayfield, you'll be the next." "when i am i'll tell you," was the placid reply. "let's go round to the kraals." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "well, hilary, and how am i looking? rather well, don't you think?" she was dressed quite simply, but prettily, and wore a plain but very becoming hat. the brisk, clear cold suited her dark style, and had lent colour to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes--and the expression of the latter now, as she turned them upon her companion, was very soft. "yes. rather well," he answered, not flinching from her gaze, yet not responding to it. "more than `rather' well, you ought to say," she smiled. "and now, hilary, what have you been doing since we parted? tell me all about yourself." most men would have waxed indignant over her cool effrontery in putting things this way. this one, she knew, would do nothing of the sort. if anything, it rather amused him. "doing? well, i began by nearly dying of fever. would have quite, if sybrandt hadn't tumbled in by accident and pulled me through it." "poor old hilary!--what are you laughing at?" "nothing much. something funny struck me, that's all. but you were always deficient in a sense of the ridiculous, hermia, so it's not worth repeating. you wouldn't see it. by-the-way, when i was lying ill, a squad of matabele came around, under that swab muntusi, and looted a little, and assegai-ed the two piccaninnies." "what? tickey and primrose? oh, poor little beasts!" "i couldn't move a finger, of course--weak as a cat. in fact, i didn't know what had happened till afterwards." again the humour of the situation struck him irresistibly. the matter-of-course way in which she was asking and receiving the news just as though they had parted quite in ordinary fashion and merely temporarily, was funny. but it was hermia all over. "i'd become sick of it by that time," he went on. "so i sold out everything, and came down country." "to think of your being at the bayfields' all this while, hilary. and you didn't know i was here?" "hadn't the ghost of a notion. of course i had heard you were here, but there was nothing to lead me to locate you as `mrs fenham.' by the way, hermia, what on earth made you strike out in the line of instructor of youth? no. it's really too funny." "isn't it?" she said ingenuously. "it often amuses me too. i did it for a freak--and--a reason." "but why `fenham'? you haven't really married any--er--fool of that name?" "not a bit. thanks for the implied compliment all the same. the name did as well as any other. that's all." "what has become of spence?" "i don't know, and don't care. he turned out rather a cur," she answered with a light laugh, showing no more confusion or restraint in alluding to the circumstance, than he had done when first she broached the subject of their parting. "i had more than enough of him in three months, and couldn't stand the sight of him in five. he had just succeeded to a lot of money, you know, and became afflicted with swelled head there and then; in fact, became intolerably bumptious." "yes, i heard that from skelsey, just when i was wondering hard how spence was in a sudden position to undertake a--well, not inexpensive liability." she gave him a little punch on the arm--not ill-naturedly, for she was rather amused. "it's mean of you to say that, hilary. come now, you can't say _you_ found it an `expensive liability.'" "well, i'll concede i didn't, hermia--not pecuniarily, that is. but it isn't to say that spence would not have. i thought you were going to make a serious business of it that time. why didn't you? you had hooked your fish, and seemed to be playing him all right. then, just when you ought to have gaffed him--up goes the top joint, whipping aloft, and the fish is off." "he was a cur, and i'm well rid of him," she returned, and there was a hard, vindictive gleam in her dark eyes. "i did mean serious business, and so did he--very much so. do you know what choked him off, hilary? it was when he learned there was no necessity for you to set me free-- that i was free as air already. while he thought i was beyond his reach, he declared he was only living for the day when i was no longer so. but, directly he found i was quite within it, and had been all along, he cooled off with a sort of magical rapidity." "yes. human nature is that way--and here too, there was an additional psychological motive. the knowledge would be likely to make a difference, you know. knock a few chips out of your--er--prestige." she burst out laughing. "you have a neat, but rather horrid way of putting things, hilary. yes. i quite see what you mean." he made no reply, and for some moments they strolled on in silence. he could not refuse to entertain a certain amount of admiration for the consummate and practical coolness of this woman. she would make an ideal adventuress. nor did he in the very least believe that she was destined to come to grief--as by all the rules of morality he ought to have believed. that was not the way of life. she would probably end by entrapping some fool--either very old, or very young--endowed with infinitely more bullion or valuable scrip than gumption or self-control, and flashing out into a very shining light of pattern respectability. "what are you thinking about, hilary?" she said at last, stealing a side look at him. "are you still the least little bit angry with me about-- er--about things?" "not in the least. i never was. you had had enough of me--we had had enough of each other. the only thing to do was to separate. you may remember i told you so not long before?" "i remember. and, hilary--you would not--stand in my way if--" "certainly not. if you can humbug, to your advantage, any fool worth humbugging, that's no business on earth of mine--" "ah, that's just what i thought of you, hilary," she said, her whole face lighting up with animation. "you were always a head and shoulders above any other man i ever knew." "--but--" he resumed, lifting a warning hand as he stopped and faced her. "there is one and one only i must warn you off, and that most uncompromisingly." "who is it?" the very tone was hard and rasping, and her face had gone pale. all the light and animation had died out of her eyes as she raised them to his. "that unspeakable young ass of a cousin of mine--percy west." "but--why?" "hermia, think. how on earth can you ask such a question? the boy is like a younger brother to me, and on no consideration whatever will i stand by and allow his life to be utterly spoiled, wrecked and ruined at the very outset." "why should his life be wrecked or ruined?" she said sullenly, but with averted gaze. "i could make him very happy." "for how long? and what then? no. knowing what we know, it could not be. the thing is impossible--utterly impossible, i tell you. you must simply give up all idea or thought of it." "and if i refuse?" "but you won't refuse. good heavens! haven't you got the whole world to pick and choose from, but you must needs come here and make a fool of this boy?" "i didn't come here and `make a fool of him.' i was here already when he came. i told you i had a reason for stopping here. well--that is it." "it was to tell me this that you arranged to meet me alone," went on blachland. "i conclude it wasn't merely for the pleasure of having a talk over old times. am i right?" "perfectly." "well, then, hermia, i can't agree to it. do be reasonable. you have the whole world to choose from, and you may rely upon it that in any other connection i will never stand in your way by word or act. but in this i will. why are you so bent on winning this boy? he isn't wealthy, and never will be, except by his own exertions, i.e. the development of some potential but hitherto undiscovered vein of rascality in his nature. he is much younger than you, too." "so you were careful enough to tell him last night," she flashed. "that was mean of you." "last night!" echoed the other, for the moment taken aback, for percival had certainly had no opportunity of communicating with her at all that morning. "why, yes. i heard you. remember the `bushcat' that was disturbing the fowls? i was the `bushcat'!" and again she broke into a ringing peal of laughter. "eh?" "i was the `bushcat,' i tell you," she repeated. "that window of yours is very convenient. i heard every word you said to each other. it was very mean of you, hilary, to try and set him against me." "well, if you heard every word, you must admit that i might have set him against you a great deal more than i did. moreover, hermia, i believe i was the unconscious means of saving your life by refusing to open the window and let him shoot. so you owe me a little gratitude after all." "no, i don't," came the prompt response. "you don't suppose i'd have waited there to be shot at, do you? why, directly you touched the window to open it. i'd have made myself scarce. you don't catch this weasel asleep." "evidently not," he answered dryly. as a matter of fact she had heard very little indeed of their conversation, only a scrap here and there. for the rest, she had been drawing a bow at a venture. "now, hermia," he went on, "let's have the motive--there's always a motive, you know. you can't really care for this youngster--let alone love him--" "oh, as for love--you know, hilary, i never loved any one but you--" she broke off, almost passionately--"never--before or since." "well then, if in that case you couldn't stick to me, how are you going to stick to this one when you don't even love him? you know you never would. and he's got nothing of his own to speak of, and never will have more when you have estranged him from the only relative he has who can help him." "but i needn't estrange him from anybody. nothing need ever be known." "let's turn back," said hilary. "we have gone far enough. and now, hermia, i'll tell you straight. if you don't give percy to understand this very morning that you have changed your mind, and will on no account consent to marry him, i shall put him in possession of all the facts concerning ourselves." "you will?" she said. "you will do that?" she had stopped short, and with eyes burning from her pale face, and breast heaving, she stood defiant, facing him, with a very blast of hate and fury in her look. "certainly i will," he returned sternly, and absolutely undaunted. "i forbid this thing--forbid it utterly." "he won't believe you," she jeered. "even if he does, he won't care, he loves me too well. it'll make no difference to him." "i think it will though. in fact i'm sure it will. there was young spence. he loved you just as well, but it made a good deal of difference to him." "very well, hilary. play your hand by all means. throw your best card, but i can trump it. i have a better hand than you. i hold all the honours, and you shan't even take the odd trick." "explain," he said shortly, with, however, more than an inkling as to her meaning. "well, i will then. you give me away. i give you away. see?" "oh, perfectly. but it'll make no difference. you can't injure me, and i wouldn't for the world injure you--but--i won't allow this scandalous affair to go any further, no, not at any cost!" "i can't injure you, can't i?" she said, dropping out her words slowly, a sneer of deadly malice spreading over her face. "no? what will the bayfields say when they hear what you and i have been to each other?" with infinite self-control, he commanded his features, trusting they did not betray any inkling of the direful sinking of heart with which he grasped the import of her words. he was not altogether taken by surprise, for he had taken such a possibility into account--as a possibility, not a probability. "that can't be helped. at any cost i told you i should prevent this. at any cost mind, and at a far greater loss to myself than even that would be. and--i will." "ha-ha-ha!" and the jeering laughter, shrill in its hate and vengeful malevolence, rang out clear on the sweet morning air. "ha-ha-ha! but i don't think you've altogether counted the cost, my hilary. how about lyn--your sweet, pure, innocent lyn? what will she say when she knows? what will her father say when they both know--that you have allowed her to be under the same roof with--to grasp in ordinary social friendship the hand of your--for years--most devoted and affectionate... housekeeper?" well was it for the speaker, well for both of them, that the words were uttered here, and not in the far-away scene of the life to which she referred. for a second, just one brief second, the man's eyes flashed the murder in his soul. with marvellous self-restraint, but with dry lips and face a shade pale, he answered: "that would be a regrettable thing to happen. but, it doesn't shake my determination. i don't see, either, how the outraging of other people's finer feelings is going to benefit you, or, to any appreciable extent, injure me." "don't you? why, in that event, the sweet, pure, and beautiful lyn-- yes, she is beautiful--i'd concede that and more--will bid you an extremely cold and curt farewell--even if she condescends to speak to you again at all for the remainder of your natural life." "that too, would be regrettable, and would pain me. but we should have to say good-bye sooner or later." "no, hilary. you never intended to say anything of the sort. you can't fool me, you see." "what on earth are you talking about?" again the jeering laugh rang out. "what am i talking about?" she echoed, quite undaunted by the curt, stern tones. "you know perfectly well. you are over head and ears in love with her." "that's not true." "isn't it? it is though," she answered, her eyes fixed full upon his and rippling into mischievous laughter. "why, you have grown quite pale at the bare mention of it! shall i say it again? you are over head and ears in love with her. and--i wonder if she is with you?" "oh, hold your scandalous tongue, woman," he rejoined wearily, knowing better than to delight her by exhibiting what must necessarily be impotent anger. "really, you are rendering yourself absolutely and uncompromisingly loathsome. again i say you must give up this scheme. i will prevent it at any cost." "well, you know what the cost is--and if you don't, it isn't for want of warning. keep quiet and so will i. interfere with my plans and i'll wreck all yours. give me away and i'll give you away, and then we'll see which comes out best. now we are nearly back at the house again, so you'd better be civil, or, what is more important still, look it." chapter nine. "what a man soweth." "percy, i want you to ride part of the way back with me." "delighted, old chap. but--" "there's no `but' in the case at all. to be plain, you must." "it isn't to talk any more about--er--what we were on to last night, is it? because that's settled." "well, it concerns that, for it concerns her, and you've got to hear it." "but i don't want to. and i shan't believe it if i do," was the reply, shortly made. the two were standing by the cattle-kraal, which contained a troop of horses just driven in from the veldt. in the thick of them, armed with halters and _reims_, two kaffir servants and a hottentot were catching out those required. in front of the house bayfield's spider was being inspanned. "now it's of no use turning restive, percy. you've got to hear what i've got to tell you. it's about--_her_. you can take your choice. either you hear it from me--in which case it need go no farther, or-- you'll hear it from anybody and everybody--for then i shall be obliged to make it public." "do you mean to say you'll spread abroad your infernal slanders, hilary!" the young fellow's face was as white as a sheet, and he could hardly speak for the extent of his agitation. "not unless you force me to. look. there's your gee in the kraal now. tell one of them to catch it and come along with me. you'll live to thank me till your dying day." the stronger will prevailed--even apart from the fell significance of the alternative held out. by the time the inspanning was complete, and good-byes were in progress, percival was on the scene with his horse saddled up and ready. "aren't you coming in the spider with us, mr blachland?" said lyn, noticing that he, too, was preparing to mount. "not the first part of the way," he answered. "there's a home matter percy and i want to talk over, so he's going to ride an hour or two on the road with me. good-bye again, earle. had a ripping good shoot. good-bye, mrs fenham," for the latter had now appeared for the first time. she looked quite unruffled, but there was that in her face which told one, at any rate, there, that she was prepared to begin the war. "good-bye, hilary--er--mr blachland," she responded sweetly, contriving that the words and tone should be distinctly audible to lyn, who, already seated in the spider, could not possibly avoid hearing them. but had hermia only known it the shaft had fallen harmless. "did you hear that, father?" lyn began, as they drove off. "that woman actually called mr blachland by his christian name?" bayfield burst out laughing. then after a precautionary look behind-- "i expect she reckons him her brother-in-law--no, cousin-in-law already," he said. "young west seems to have brought things to a head in that quarter. she and blachland had a long talk together this morning. i expect they were sort of arranging family matters." "very likely. but i don't think i ever saw any woman i detested so thoroughly and instinctively. every time i see her i dislike her more." "hallo, little one! you're quite fierce on the subject," laughed her father. "why do you hate her so? has she been uncivil to my little girlie?" "no, quite the contrary. but she's utterly false somehow. i wouldn't believe any statement that woman made--even if she were dying. but what a silly boy that young west must be. why, she's years older than himself!" bayfield laughed again, but he more than half thought lyn's estimate was very likely a true one. some little way behind, the two men had pulled their horses into a walk. "steer ahead," said percival doggedly. "let's get it over." "yes. i think we might now. so you haven't found out anything more about--mrs fenham, beyond what you told me last night?" "no. her husband died about a year ago. that was up-country. i wonder you never ran against him, hilary." "but i know him intimately, only--he isn't her husband." "the deuce! but he's dead." "no, he isn't. he's very much alive and kicking--and his name isn't fenham either, never was." "well, what is it then?" and his voice was hard and desperate. "hilary blachland." "eh?" it was all he could say. he could only stare. he seemed to be stricken speechless with the shock, utterly speechless. "i'm very sorry for you, percy, very sorry. but you'll thank me for it bye-and-bye," went on blachland concernedly. "that woman has told you a tissue of lies. i can account for her time for nearly half a dozen years, for the simple reason that it has been spent with me--the last two years of it in mashunaland. she left me though, not much more than half a year ago--cleared out with another johnny, just such a young ass as yourself, who thought her a goddess, but they got sick of each other in no time. why, she was telling me all about that herself only this morning, before you were up." percival said nothing. for some little while he rode on in silence, gazing straight between his horse's ears. the thing had come upon him as a terrible shock, and he sat, half dazed. it never occurred to him for one moment to refuse to believe his kinsman's statement, nor any part of it. suddenly he looked up. "who is she then?" he asked. "hermia saint clair. you remember?" "yes. good god!" "so you see, percy, you can go no further in this," went on the other after another interval of silence. "you must break it off--now, absolutely and at once. you quite see that, don't you?" "of course. great heavens, hilary--how i have been fooled!" "you have certainly, but if it's any consolation to you, so have others--so will others be--as long as hermia is about. it isn't pleasant to be obliged to give her away as i have done--and if it had concerned anybody other than yourself, anybody in whom i had no interest, i should have let the matter rigidly alone, as no business of mine, and kept a strict silence. but i couldn't stand by and see your life utterly ruined at the start, and there are of course, circumstances in this particular case which rendered it ten times more necessary that you should be warned. i gave her the straight chance though. i told her if she broke off this engagement with you, i wouldn't breathe a word as to her real identity, and she defied me. so now you know. and now you do know, there's not the slightest chance of her getting you into the toils again, eh?" "good heavens, no," he answered emphatically, and in strong disgust. "what a fool i've been. what shall i do, hilary? i don't feel as if i could ever see her again. do you think bayfield would take me in for a few days if i went on now with you?" "take my advice, and go straight back. we don't want to give her away further, and if you clear out abruptly now, it'll likely have that effect. besides it has rather a cowardly look. no, give her to understand that you know everything now, and of course there's nothing more to be thought of between you." "i will. but--what an escape i've had. still do you know, hilary--oh, dash it all, i was--er--beastly fond of her. don't you understand?" "well, rather--considering it's a stage i've gone through myself," answered the other, kindly. "you'll get over it though. and, look here, percy, i shall be leaving bayfield's myself in a day or two. how would you like to join me? we might go up-country together, and i could show you some real wild life. you see, i know my way about in those parts, and it would be a first-rate opportunity for you to see something of them. what do you say?" "that's a real splendid idea, hilary." "very well. now go back and get this business over. get it clean behind you mind, thoroughly and entirely. i'll send you word in a couple of days at the outside where to join me, then roll up your traps and come straight along. how is that?" "the very thing." "right. now, percy. seriously, mind. there must be no more dallying. you know what i mean?" "not likely, knowing what i know now." "then you'd better go and get it over at once. i'll say good-bye to the bayfields for you. you turn round right here. good-bye now--and one of these days you'll bless your stars for this lucky escape." "then you'll let me hear soon, hilary?" "in a couple of days at the outside. good-bye." a staunch handgrip, and the older man sat there, looking after the receding form of the younger. "it strikes me," he said to himself as he turned his horse's head along the track again. "it strikes me that i've been only just in time to get that young fool out of a most deadly mess. heavens! what a ghastly complication it would have been. moreover, i believe he was sent out here to find out about me, and what i was doing. well, instead of him reclaiming me, it has befallen that i have been the one marked out to reclaim him." then as he sent his horse along at a brisk canter to make up the time lost during their talk, his mind reverted to himself and his own affairs. what a series of surprises had been contained within the last twenty-four hours. could it have been only yesterday that he came along this road, serene, content, with no forewarning of what lay in store? why, it seemed that half a lifetime's drama had been played out within that brief space--and now, as he pressed on to overtake bayfield's conveyance, the tilt of which was visible some distance ahead moving through the bushes, it seemed that with every stride of his horse he was advancing into a purer atmosphere. he felt as one, who, having struck upon strange and unwelcome surprises in the foul nauseous air of some long, underground cavern, was drawing nearer and nearer again to the free, wholesome, open light of day. well, he had saved his young kinsman, and now he was called upon to face the payment of the price. the time he had spent here, the bright, beautiful, purifying time, was at an end. the past, of which, looking back upon, he sickened, was not to be so easily buried after all. had it not risen up when least expected, to haunt him, to exact its retribution? hermia would certainly keep her word; caring nothing in her vindictive spite, to what extent she blackened herself so long as she could sufficiently besmirch him. still he would do all he could, if not to defeat her intentions, at any rate to draw half their sting. one, at all events, should remain unsullied by the mire which he well knew she would relentlessly spatter in all directions. that he resolved. then a faint, vague, straw of a hope, beset him. what if she had been playing a game of bluff? what if she was by no means so ready to give herself away as she had affected to be? what if--when she found there was nothing to be gained by it--she were to adopt the more prudent course, and maintain silence? it was just a chance, but knowing so well, her narrow, soulless nature, he knew it to be a slender one. even then, what? even did it hold--it would not affect the main fact. in the consummate purifying of this man's nature which the past few weeks had effected, he looked backward thence with unutterable abasement and loathing. as he had sown, so must he reap. the re-appearance of the past personified had but emphasised that--had not altered it. he would be the one to suffer, and he only, he thought, with a dull, anguished kind of feeling which he strove hard to think was that of consolation. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "oh, it is good to be at home again," said lyn. "i don't care much for going over to the earles' at any time, but this time somehow or other, i detested it. but--oh, i beg your pardon, mr blachland. and you found your cousin there! how awkward and tactless you must think me!" "you could never be either awkward or tactless, lyn," he answered. "only thoroughly natural. always be that, child. it is such a charm." the girl smiled softly, half shyly. "really, you are flattering me. you spoil me as much as father does, and that's saying a great deal, you know," gaily. the two were standing on the stoep together, about an hour after their return. bayfield was down at the kraals, counting in, and looking after things in general, and, helping him, small fred, who, however, was cracking his long whip in such wise as to be rather less of a help than a hindrance with the flocks. the unearthly beauty of the sunset glow was already merging into the shade of the twilightless evening. "i wish you were going to stay with us always, mr blachland," she went on. "it would be so nice. if you and father were partners, for instance, like mr barter and mr smith--only they squabble--why, then you'd always be here." he looked at her--mentally with a great start--but only for a second. the frank, ingenuous, friendly affection of a child! that was what the words, the tone, the straight glance of the sweet blue eyes expressed! there was a tinge of melancholy in his voice as he replied: "now you flatter me, little lyn. you would soon find a battered old fogey like me can be a desperate bore." then he proceeded to the prosaic and homely occupation of filling and lighting his pipe, smiling to himself sadly over her indignant disclaimer. chapter ten. as good as her word. it was post day at lannercost, and whereas the delivery of her majesty's mails was only of weekly occurrence, the fact constituted a small event. such delivery was effected by the usual harmless necessary native, who conveyed the mail bag by field and flood from the adjacent field-cornet's--in this instance from earle's. "it's just possible, bayfield, i may hear something by this post which may necessitate my leaving you almost immediately." "oh, hang it, blachland! are you at that game again? where do you think of moving to next, if not an impertinent question?" "up-country again. i've interests there still. and things are beginning to look dickey. lo ben's crowd is turning restive again. we've most of us thought all along that they were bound to force the old man's hand. it's only a question of time." "so?" and then they fell to talking over that and kindred questions, until finally a moving object, away down the valley, but rapidly drawing nearer, resolved itself into a mounted native. the two men were sitting in the shade at the bottom of one of the gardens, where bayfield had been doing an odd job or two with a spade-- cutting out a water furrow here, or clearing one there and so forth-- pausing every now and then for a smoke and a desultory chat. "hey, september! bring the bag here," he called out in dutch, as the postboy was about to pass. the boy swung himself from his pony, and handed over the leathern bag to his master. "great scott, here's a nuisance!" exclaimed the latter, fumbling in his pockets. "i believe i haven't got the key. it's up at the house. we'll have to send september for it--or go up ourselves and open the bag there." the last thing that blachland desired was either of these courses. if they sent up for the key, lyn would be sure to come down with it herself. if they went themselves, the bag would be opened in her presence, and this, for good reasons of his own, he did not wish. in fact he had deftly manoeuvred bayfield down here with the object of intercepting it. "ah, here it is!" cried the latter, disentangling a bunch of keys from the recesses of a pocket. "got into the lining." in a trice the bag was unlocked and its contents extracted by the simple process of turning them out on to the ground. "here you are, blachland," handing him two. "miss bayfield, miss bayfield," he read out, "that's all for lyn. _illustrated london news_--george bayfield--george bayfield. here's another, that's for you--no, it isn't, it's me. looked like blachland at first. that's all. here you are, september. take that on to miss lyn," replacing the latter's correspondence in the bag. "_ja, baas_." and the kaffir jogged off. blachland stood there, outwardly calm, but, in reality, stirred through and through. the blow had fallen. the writing on the enclosure which his friend had so nearly handed to him, how well he knew it; could it be, he thought, in a flash of sardonic irony--there had once been a time when it was the most welcome sight his glance could rest upon? the blow had fallen. hermia had been as good as her word, but even then there were mitigating circumstances, for a ghastly idea had occurred to him that she might, in the plenitude of her malice, have written direct to lyn, whereas the addresses on the girl's correspondence were in different hands, and which in fact he had seen before. indeed had it been otherwise he intended to warn bayfield on no account to pass on the letter until that worthy had satisfied himself as to its contents. "just as i thought. i've got to clear, and rather sharp too. in fact, to-morrow," running his eyes over his letters. "have you, old chap? what a beastly nuisance," answered bayfield, looking up. "we shall miss you no end." would he? why on earth didn't the man get on with his correspondence, thought blachland, for the tension was getting upon his nerves. but the other went chatting on--partly regrets over his own departure--partly about some stock sale of which he had just had news. "hallo! who's this from?" he said at last. "i don't know that writing a hang. well, it's soon settled," tearing the envelope open, with a laugh. but in a moment the laugh died. george bayfield was grave enough now. a whistle of amazement escaped him, and more than one smothered exclamation of disgust. blachland, without appearing to, watched him narrowly. would he never get to the end of that closely written sheet and a half? "have you any idea what this is about?" the tone was short. all the old cordiality seemed to have left it. "very much of an idea, bayfield. i expected something of the kind, and for that very reason, to be quite candid with you, i manoeuvred we should get the post out here away from the house." "i didn't think you'd have done that to us, blachland. to think of this--this person, under the same roof with--even shaking hands with--my lyn. faugh! good heavens! man, you might have spared us this!" "wouldn't i--if it had been possible? but it was not. i give you my word of honour i had no more idea of that woman's presence at earle's, or indeed in the neighbourhood, or even in this country, than you had yourself. you'll do me the credit of believing that, won't you?" "why, yes, blachland. anything you give me your word for i believe implicitly." "thanks. you are a true friend, bayfield. you may believe another thing--and that is that had i known of her presence in the neighbourhood, i should have kept away from it. why, she didn't even know of mine either. each was about as surprised as the other when we met, yesterday morning. what could i do then, bayfield? raise a scene on the spot, and expose her--and kick up a horrible scandal, with the result of simply bespattering the air with mire, around the very one we intend to keep from any such contact? no good purpose could be served by acting otherwise than as i acted. could it now?" "no. i suppose not. in fact, i quite see the force of all you say. still, it's horrible, revolting." "yes. believe me, bayfield, i am as distressed about it as you are. but there is this consolation. not an atom of real harm has been done so far. lyn is in blissful ignorance as to who it was she met, and there is no reason on earth why she should ever know." even while he spoke there occurred to him another aspect of the case-- and the probability that this had not been overlooked by lyn's father occurred to him too. would not the latter regard him as upon much the same plane as hermia herself? "you see," he went on, "i shall be clearing out the first thing in the morning, so she," with a jerk of the thumb in the direction of far-away earle's, "is not likely to give you any further trouble. besides, after giving herself away like this, she will have to go her way as well. if she doesn't, i advise you to let earle into the story. she won't be long there after that. by the way, would you mind letting me see exactly what she has said? we shall know better where we are then." "yes, i think so," said the other. blachland took the letter and read it through carefully and deliberately from end to end. it was a narrative of their _liaison_, and that only. but the blame of its initiation the writer ascribed to himself. this he pointed out to bayfield. "the boot was, if anything on the other foot," he said. "but let that pass. now, why do you suppose she has given all this away?" "to revenge herself upon you for leaving her." "but i didn't leave her. she left me--cleared with a young ass of a prospector, during one of my necessary absences, of which i notice, she's careful not to say one word. clearly she never bargained for my seeing this at all." "by jove! you don't say so?" "it's hard fact. well, her motive is to revenge herself upon me, but not for that. it is because she had entangled that young fool percy west--had made him engage himself to her. he told me this the night we were at earle's, and i put my foot down on it at once. i gave her the chance of drawing out of it, of releasing him, and she refused it.--i put the alternative before her, and she simply defied me. `if you give me away, i'll give you away,' those were her words. i couldn't allow the youngster to enter into any such contract as that, could i?" "of course not. go on." "so i told him the whole thing on our way out the other morning. it choked him clean off her--of course. i was as good as my word, and she was as good as hers. that's the whole yarn in a nutshell." bayfield nodded. he seemed to be thinking deeply, as he filled his pipe meditatively, and passed the pouch over to blachland. there was one thing for which the latter felt profoundly thankful. remembering the more than insinuation hermia had thrown out, he had noticed with unspeakable relief that there was no reference whatever to lyn throughout the communication. even she had shrunk from such an outrage as that, and for this he felt almost grateful to her. "this mrs fenham, or st. clair, or whatever her name is," said bayfield, glancing at the subscription of the letter, "seems to be a bad egg all round. seems to be omnivorous, by jove!" "she has an abnormal capacity for making fools of the blunder-headed sex, as i can testify," was the answer, given dryly. "well bayfield, i don't want to whitewash myself, let alone trot out the old adamite excuse--i don't set up to be better than other people, and have been a good deal worse than some. you know, as a man of the world, that there is a certain kind of trap laid throughout our earlier life to catch us at every turn. well, i've fallen into a good many such traps, but i can, with perfect honesty, say i've never set one. do you follow?" "perfectly," replied bayfield, who thought that such was more than likely the case. he was mentally passing in review blachland's demeanour towards lyn, during the weeks they had been fellow inmates, and he pronounced it to be absolutely flawless. the pleasant, unrestrained, easy friendship between the two had been exactly all it should be--on the part of the one, all that was sympathetic, courteous and considerate, with almost a dash of the paternal, for the girl was nearly young enough to be his daughter--on that of the other, a liking, utterly open and undisguised, for lyn liked him exceedingly, and made no secret of it--and if hers was not a true instinct, whose was? bayfield was not a man to adjudge another a blackguard because he had sown some wild oats, and this one he acquitted entirely--and he said something to that effect. "thanks," was the reply. "i don't care a rap for other people's opinions about myself, good, bad, or indifferent, as a rule, but i'm rather glad you don't judge me too hardly, on account of this infernal _contretemps_?" "oh, i don't judge you at all, old chap, so don't run away with that idea. we ain't any of us silver-gilt saints if the truth were known, or if we are, it's generally for want of opportunity to become the other thing, at any rate, that's my belief. and lyn likes you so much, blachland, and her instinct's never at fault." "god bless her!" was the fervent reply. "i don't wonder, bayfield, that you almost worship that child. i know if she were my child i should rather more than entirely." "would you?" said the other, his whole face softening. "well, that's about what i do. come along up to the house, blachland, and let's forget all about this rotten affair. i'll take jolly good care i keep it away from her by hook or by crook, anyhow. it's a beastly bore you've got to clear to-morrow, but you know your own business best, and it never does to let business slide. you'll roll up again next time you're down this way of course. i say though, you mustn't go getting any more fever." as a matter of fact, blachland's presence was no more needed up-country, either in his own interests or anybody else's, than was that of the shah of persia. but, it would simplify matters to leave then, besides affording bayfield a freer hand: and for another thing, it would enable him to make sure of getting his young kinsman out of the toils. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ something of a gloom lay upon that household of three that evening, by reason of the impending departure of this one who had been so long an inmate in their midst, and had identified himself so completely with their daily life. "mr blachland, but i wish i was big enough to go with you," announced small fred. "man, but i'd like to see those matabele chaps, and have a shot at a lion." "some day, when you are big enough, perhaps you shall, fred. and, look here, when your father thinks you are big enough to begin to shoot--and that'll be pretty soon now--i'm to give you your first gun. that's a bargain, eh, bayfield?" "_magtig_! but you're spoiling the nipper, blachland," was the reply. "you're a lucky chap, fred, i can tell you." somehow, lyn was not in prime voice for the old songs in the course of the evening, in fact she shut down the concert with suspicious abruptness. when it became time to say good night, she thrust into blachland's hand a small, flat, oblong packet: "a few of my poor little drawings," she said, rather shyly. "you said you would like to have one or two, and these will remind you perhaps a little of old lannercost, when you are far away." "why, lyn, how awfully good of you. i can't tell you how i shall value them. they will seem to bring back all the good times we have had together here. and, now, good night. i suppose it's good-bye too." "oh no, it isn't. i shall be up to see you off." "but think what an ungodly hour i'm going to start at." "that doesn't matter. of course i'm going to see you off." "why, rather," struck in small fred. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ morning dawned, frosty and clear, and the intending traveller appreciated the thick warmth of his heavy ulster to the full, as he prepared to mount to the seat of bayfield's buggy, beside the native boy who was to bring back the vehicle after depositing him at the district town, nearly fifty miles away. there was no apparent gloom about the trio now. they were there to give him a cheery send off. "well, good-bye, old chap," cried bayfield, as they gripped hands. "i think there's everything in the buggy you'll want on the way." "good-bye, bayfield, old pal," was the hearty reply. "good-bye, lyn," holding the girl's hands in both of his, and gazing down affectionately into the sweet, pure face. "god bless you, child, and don't forget your true and sincere old friend in too great a hurry. fred--good-bye, old chappie." and he climbed into his seat and was gone. the trio stood looking after the receding vehicle until it disappeared over the roll of the hill--waving an occasional hat or a handkerchief as its occupant looked back. then fred broke forth: "man--lyn, but mr blachland's a fine chap! _tis waar_, i'm sorry he's gone--ain't you?" he had pretty well voiced the general sense. they felt somehow, that a vacant place had been set up in their midst. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ later that morning bayfield chanced to return to the house from his work outside. it seemed empty. small fred was away at the bottom of the garden with a catapult, keeping down the swarming numbers of predatory mouse-birds and the wilier spreuw. but where was lyn? just then a sound striking upon the silence brought him to a standstill, amazement and consternation personified, so utterly strange and unwonted was such a sound in that household, and it proceeded from the girl's room. gently, noiselessly, he opened the door. she was seated by her bed, her back towards him. her face was buried in her hands, and her whole form was heaving with low convulsive sobs. "lyn! great heaven! what's the matter? lyn--my little lyn!" she rose at her father's voice and came straight into his arms. then she looked up at him, through her tears, forcing a smile. "my little one, what is it? there, there, tell your old father," he pleaded, a whirlwind of tenderness and concern shaking his voice as he held her to him. "tell me, sweetheart." "it's nothing, dearest," she answered but quaveringly, and still forcing herself to smile. "only--no, it's nothing. but--when people are here a long time, and you get to like them a lot and they go away--why it's-- oh, it's beastly. that's all, old father--" dashing away her tears, and forcing herself to smile in real earnest. "and i'm a little fool, that's all. but i won't be any more. see, i'm all right now." "my little lyn! my own little one!" he repeated, kissing her tenderly, now rather more moved than she was. and lyn was as good as her word. all his solicitous but furtive watching, failed to detect any sign or symptom that her outburst of grief was anything more than a perfectly natural and childlike manifestation of her warm little heart. and yet, there were times, when, recurring to it in his own mind, honest george bayfield would grow grave and shake his head and ejaculate softly to himself: "my little lyn! no--it can't be. oh, great scot!" end of book ii. chapter one. "woz'ubone, kiti kwazulu." lo bengula sat within the _esibayaneni_--the sacred enclosure wherein none dare intrude--at his great kraal, bulawayo. the occupation on which the king was then engaged, was the homely and prosaic one of eating his breakfast. this consisted of a huge dish of _bubende_, being certain ingredients of the internal mechanism of the bullock, all boiled up with the blood, to the civilised palate an appalling article of diet, but highly favoured by the matabele. yet, while devouring this delicacy with vast appetite, the royal countenance was overcast and gloomy in the extreme. lo bengula sat alone. from without a continuous roar of many voices reached him. it was never hushed, the night through it had hardly been hushed, and this was early morning. song after song, some improvised, others the old war-songs of the nation, interluded with long _paeans_ of his own praises, rising from the untiring throats of thousands of his warriors--yet the king, in his heart of hearts, was tired of the lot. he looked around upon his sheep and goats--for the sacred enclosure included the kraal which contained his private and particular flock--and he loved them, for he was by nature a born farmer, called by accident, and even then, reluctantly, to rule this nation of fierce and turbulent fighters. he looked upon the flocks surrounding him and wondered how much longer they would be his--how much longer anything would be his-- for war was not merely in the air but was actually at his gates; war with the whites, with whom he had ever striven to live on friendly and peaceful terms. but, as had long been foreseen, his people had forced his hand at last. unwillingly he had bowed to the inevitable, he the despot, he, before whose frown those ferocious and bloodthirsty human beasts trembled, he the dark-skinned savage, whose word was law, whose ire conveyed terror over a region as wide-spreading and vast as that under the sway of any one of the greater powers in europe. but as long as the nation was a nation and he was alive, he intended to remain its king, however reluctant he had been to assume the supreme reins of government, and consistently with this it had been out of his power to check the aggressive ebullitions of his fiery adherents. and now war was within the land, and hourly, runners were bringing in tidings of the advance-- straight, fell, unswerving of purpose--of a strong and compact expedition of whites--their goal his capital. yes, day by day these were drawing nearer. the intelligence brought by innumerable spies and runners was unvarying. the approaching force in numbers was such that a couple of his best regiments should be able to eat it up at a mouthful. but it was splendidly armed, and its organisation and discipline were perfect. its leaders seemed to take no risks, and at the smallest alarm all those waggons could be turned into a complete and defensive fort almost as quickly as a man might clap his hands twice. and then, from each corner, from every face of this unscaleable wall, peeped forth a small, insignificant thing, a little shining tube that could be placed on the back of a horse--yet this contemptible-looking toy could rain down bullets into the ranks of his warriors at a rate which would leave none to return to him with the tale. nay more, even the cover of rocks and bushes would not help them, for other deadly machines had these whites, which could throw great bags of bullets into the air to fall and scatter wherever they chose, and that at well-nigh any distance. all of this lo bengula knew and appreciated, but his people did not, and now from without, ever and increasing upon his ears, fell the din and thunder of their boasting songs of war. "_au_! they are poor, lean dogs!" he growled to himself. "they will be even as dogs who snarl and run away, when they get up to these whites. they bark loudly now and show their teeth. will they be able to bite?" personally, too, he liked the english. he had been on very friendly terms with several of them. they were always bringing him presents, things that it was good to have, and of which now he owned considerable store. he liked conversing with them too, for these were men who had travelled far and had seen things--and could tell him wonders about other lands, inhabited by other whites, away beyond the great sea. they were not fools, these english. and their bravery! who among dark races would go and place themselves in the power of a mighty and warrior race as these did? what three or four men of such would dare to stand before him here--at this very place, calm, smiling, unmoved, while thousands of his warriors were standing around, howling and clamouring for their blood? not one. then, too, their knowledge was wonderful. had not several of them, from time to time, done that which had eased him of his gout, and of the shooting pains which afflicted his eyes, and threatened to deprive him of his sight? no, of a truth he desired not to quarrel with such. well, it might be, that when these dogs of his had been whipped back--when they had thought to hunt bucks and found that they had assailed instead, a herd of fierce and fearless buffalo bulls--that then he might order them to lie down, and that peace between himself and the whites might again prevail. having arrived at this conclusion, and also at that of his repast, the king gave utterance to a call, and immediately there appeared two _izinceku_, or personal attendants of the royal household. these ran forward in a crouching attitude, with bodies bent low, and while one removed the utensils and traces of the feast, the other produced a great bowl of baked clay, nearly filled with fresh water. into this the king plunged his hands, throwing the cold water over his face and head with great apparent enjoyment, then, having dried himself with a towel of genuine civilisation, he rose, strode over to his waggon--the two attendants lying prostrate in the dust before him as he moved--and lifting the canvas flap, disappeared from mortal ken: for this waggon was the place of his most sacred seclusion, and woe indeed to the luckless wight who should presume to disturb him in that retreat. without, the aspect of the mighty circle was stirring and tumultuous to the last degree. the huge radius of grass roofs lay yellow and shining in the fierce sunlight, alive too, with dark forms ever on the move, these however, being those of innumerable women, and glistening, rotund brats, chattering in wide-eyed excitement; for the more important spot, the great open space in front of the king's enclosure, was given over to the warriors. with these it was nearly filled. regiment upon regiment was mustered there: each drafted according to the standing of those who composed its ranks, from the ingubu, which enjoyed the high privilege of attending as bodyguard upon the king, hence its name--the blanket, i.e. the king's-- ever around the royal person--the fighting imbizo, and the induba--down to the slave regiments such as the umcityu, composed of slaves and the descendants of conquered and therefore inferior races. all these were in full war array. the higher of them wore the _intye_, a combination of cape and headpiece made of the jetty plumage of the male ostrich, others were crowned with the _isiqoba_, a ball of feathers nodding over the forehead, and supporting the tall, pointed wing feather of the vulture, or the blue crane. mutyas of monkey-skin and cat-tails, in some few instances leopard's skin, fantastic bunches of white cowhair at elbow and knee and ankle, with bead necklaces, varying in shape and colour, completed the adornment. but all were fully armed. the national weapon, the traditional implement of zulu intrepidity and conquest, the broad-bladed, short-handled, close-quarter assegai--of such each warrior carried two or three: a murderous-looking battle-axe with its sickle-like blade: a heavy-headed, short-handled knob-kerrie, and the great war-shield, black, with its facings of white, a proportion white entirely--others red--others again, streaked, variegated, and surmounted by its tuft of fur or jackal's tail, or cowhair--this array, chanting in fierce strophes, stamping in unison, and clashing time with weapon-haft upon hard hide shield, amid the streaming dust, made up a picture--as terrific as it was formidable--of the ferocious and pent-up savagery of a hitherto unconquered, and in its own estimation, unconquerable race. a musky, foetid effluvium hung in the air, the mingled result of all this gathering of perspiring, moving humanity, and vast heaps of decaying bones, already decomposing in the fierce sunlight there on the killing place just outside the huge kraal at its eastern end, where a great number of the king's cattle had been slaughtered on the previous day in order to feast the regiments mustered for war--while myriads of buzzing flies combined to render the surcharged atmosphere doubly pestilential. seated together, in a group apart, the principal indunas of the nation were gathered in earnest conference, while, further on, the whole company of _izanusi_, or war-doctors, arrayed in the hideous and disgusting trappings of their order, were giving a final eye to the removal of huge _mutt_ bowls, containing some concoction equally hideous and disgusting, from the secluded and mysterious precincts wherein such had been brewed: for the whole army was about to be doctored for war. now a fresh stir arose among the excited armed multitude gathered there, and all eyes were turned to the eastward. away over the rolling plain, from the direction of the flat-topped intaba-'zinduna, a moving mass was approaching, and as it drew nearer the gleam of spears and the sheen of hide shields flickered above the dark cloud. it was the insukamini regiment, for whose presence those here had been waiting in order to render the master complete. as it swung up the slope, an old war-song of umalikazi came volleying through the air to those here gathered: "yaingahlabi leyo'mkonzi! yai ukufa!" [note: "that bull did not gore (merely). it was death!"] with full-throated roar the vast gathering took it up, re-echoing the fell chorus until it became indescribable in its strength of volume, and soon, the newly arrived regiment, over a thousand strong, filed in, and fell into line, amid the thunder of its vociferous welcome. then the company of _ixanuri_ came forward, and for some time these were busy as they went along the lines, administering to each warrior a morsel of the horrible hotch-potch they had been concocting, and which was designed to render him, if not quite impervious to the enemy's missiles, at any rate to lessen his chances of being struck, and to make him a very lion of strength and courage in the day of battle. this over, yet one ceremony remained, to sing the war-song in the presence of the king, and depart. a silence had fallen upon all after the doctoring was concluded. soon, however, it was broken by the "praisers" shouting the king's titles. as lo bengula appeared in front of his warriors, the whole immense crescent fell forward like mown corn, and from every throat went up in one single, deep-voiced, booming roar, the royal greeting: kumalo! the king did not seat himself. with head erect and kindling eyes, he paced up and down slowly, surveying the whole martial might of his nation. he, too, was arrayed in full war costume, crowned with the towering _intye_, and wearing a mutya of splendid leopard skin. he was attended by his shield-bearer, holding aloft the great white shield of state, but in his hand he carried another and a smaller shield, also white, and a long-hafted, slender, casting assegai. long and loud were the shouts of _sibonga_ which rent the air as the warriors fell back into a squatting posture, their shields lying flat in front of them. they hailed him by every imaginable title of power and of might--as their father, as their divinity, as the source of all that was good and beneficial which they possessed. they called the lightnings of the clouds, the thunders of the air--everything--into requisition to testify as to his immensity--till at last, as though in obedience to some sudden and mysterious signal, they subsided into silence. then lo bengula spoke: "children of matyobane, the enemy is already in your land. these amakiwa, who came to me few and poor, and begging, are now many and rich, and proud. they begged for a little land wherein to dig gold, and i gave it them, but, lo, they want more. like devouring locusts, these few whites who came begging, and sat down here so humbly before me, were but the advance-guard of a swarm. i gave them meat, and now they require a whole ox. i gave them an ox, and now they require the whole herd. i gave them the little land they craved for, and now, nothing will satisfy them but to devour the whole land. soon they will be here. "there are dogs who bark and turn away, and there are dogs who bite. there are dogs who are brave when it is a matter of pulling down an antelope, but who put down their tails and slink away when it is a lion who fronts them. of which are ye? "lo, the spirit of the great great one who founded this nation is still alive. his serpent still watches over those whom he made great in the art of war. shall you shame his name, his memory? of a truth, no. "yonder comes the white army--nearer, nearer day by day. soon it will be here. but first it will have to pass over the bodies of the lions of matyobane. shall it do so? of a truth, no!" the king ceased. and upon the silence arose mighty shouts. to the death they would oppose this invasion. the king, their father, might sit safe, since his children, his fighting dogs were at large. they would eat up these whites--ha--ha! a mere mouthful, and the race of matyobane should be greater than ever among the great nations of the world. then again a silence fell suddenly, and immediately from a score of points along the lines, voices began to lead off the war-song: "woz'ubone! woz'ubone, kiti kwazulu! woz'ubone! nantz'indaba. indaba yemkonto. jji-jji! jji-jji! "nantz'indaba? indaba yezizwe? akwasimuntu. jji-jji! jji-jji! "woz'ubone! nantz'indaba. indaba ka matyobane." [see note .] louder and louder, in its full-throated cadence, the national war-song rolled forth, thundrous in its wild weird strophes, to the accompaniment of stamping feet and clashing of shields--the effect of the deep humming hiss of the death chorus alone appalling in its fiendlike intensity. the vast crescent of bedizened warriors swayed and waved in its uncontrollable excitement, and the dust clouds streamed overhead as an earnest of the smoke of burning and pillage, which was wont to mark the fiery path of this terrible race in its conquering progress. louder, louder, the song roared forth, and then, when excitement had reached its highest pitch, silence fell with a suddenness as startling as the mighty outburst which had preceded it. for the king had advanced from where he had been standing. facing eastward he now stood. poising the long, slender, casting assegai in his hand with a nervous quiver, he hurled it far out over the stockade. "go now, children of matyobane!" he cried in tones of thunder. it was the signal. rank upon rank the armed legions filed forth from the gates of the great kraal. in perfect silence now they marched, their faces set eastward--a fell, vast, unsparing host upon destruction bent. woe to the invading force if it should fail to repel the might of these! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note . "come behold come behold at the high place! that is the tale--the tale of the spears. that is the tale? the tale of the nations? nobody knows. come behold. that is the tale. the tale of matyobane." "jji-jji!" is the cry uttered on closing in battle. chapter two. "the tale of the spear." "_whau_!" ejaculated ziboza, one of the fighting indunas of the ingubu regiment. "these two first." the two men constituting the picket are seated under a bush in blissful unconsciousness; their horses, saddled and bridled, grazing close at hand. away over the veldt, nearly half a mile distant, the column is laagered. in obedience to their leader's mandate a line of dark savages darts forth, like a tongue, from the main body. worming noiselessly through the bush and grass, yet moving with incredible rapidity, these are advancing swiftly and surely upon the two white men, their objective the point where they can get between the latter and their horses. these men are there to watch over the safety of the column laagered up yonder, but who shall watch over their own safety? nearer--nearer! and now the muscles start from each bronze frame, and the fell, murderous assegai is grasped in sinewy grip. straining eyeballs stare forth in bloodthirsty exultation. the prey is secure. no. not quite. the horses, whose keener faculties can discern the approach of a crowd of musky-smelling barbarians, while the denser perceptions of the two obtuse humans cannot, now cease grazing and throw up their heads and snort. even the men can hardly close their eyes to such a danger signal as this. starting to their feet they gaze eagerly forth, and--make for the horses as fast as they can. too late, however, in the case of one of them. the enemy is upon them, and one of the horses, scared by the terrible matabele battle-hiss, and the waving of shields and the leaping of dark, fantastically arrayed forms, refuses to be caught. the owner starts to run, but what chance has he against these? he is soon overtaken, and blades rise and fall, and the ferocity of the exultant death-hiss of the barbarians mingles with the dropping rifle. are they are keeping up on his fleeing companion, and the sputter and roll of volleys from the laager. for this is what has been happening there. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ steadily, ever with the most perfect discipline and organisation, the column had advanced, and now after upwards of a month of care and vigilance, and difficulties met and surmounted, was drawing very near its goal. the enemy had hovered, upon its flanks since the last pitched battle, now nearly a week ago, as though making up his mind to do something towards redeeming his defeat upon that occasion; but unremitting vigilance together with a few timely and long range shells had seemed to damp his aspirations that way. "i wonder if they'll try conclusions with us once more, before we get there," observed the commanding officer, scanning the country, front and flank, with his field glasses. "what do you think, blachland?" "i think they will, major," was the confident reply. "no such luck," growled one of the group. "after the hammering we gave them at shangani. i tell you what it is, blachland. these wonderful matabele of yours are miserable devils after all. i don't believe they've another kick in them," added this cocksure briton. hard, weather-beaten men these--tough as nails from the life they have been leading since the beginning of the campaign. they have been tested again and again, and have passed the ordeal well: not only under fire, but the more nerve-straining duties of scouting and reconnoitring and nocturnal guard. hilary blachland is attached to the scouting section, and is somewhat of an important personality in the command, by reason of his complete knowledge of the country to be traversed, and his acquaintance with its inhabitants, now the enemy. "no more bad country you say?" went on the commanding officer, making some notes in a pocket-book. "no. it's all pretty much as we see it, open, undulating and moderately bushed. yonder is the intaba-'zinduna, and we hold to the left of its further end by about a couple of miles. we are certain to be attacked between this and bulawayo, and that's barely twenty miles, why any minute may settle it." "why what's this?" muttered the commanding officer hurriedly, bringing his glass to his eyes. "ah, i thought so," said blachland with a smile. "we shall get it here, major." dark masses of the enemy were now appearing, away in front--still about a mile off. no sooner had the shells begun to drop among these than the alarm was raised much nearer home, and, as with the celerity of perfect discipline every man was at his place within the laager, the battle line of the savages could be seen sweeping forward through the thorns on the northern side. then the rattle of volleys, and the knock-like thud of the machine guns playing upon them, mingles for a time with the deep, humming war-hiss of the matabele and the defiant whoops of individual excited warriors, leaping in bravado as though challenging the marksmanship of the defenders. the line of battle soon wavers, halts, then drops down, only to glide on again. more and more press on from behind, and soon the line is seen to be extending, as though for a surround. there are firearms too, within the savage host, and the bullets begin to whizz and "ping" around the ears of the defenders. "they have got another kick in them after all, eh, grantham?" remarks blachland to the officer who had uttered the above disparaging remark. for a piece of sharp splinter, chipped from the side of a waggon, had struck the latter, causing his ear to bleed profusely, while the speaker himself gives an involuntary duck, as another martini bullet hums right over his head, and near enough for him to feel its draught. "oh damn them, yes!" answers the man apostrophised, grinding his teeth with the sharp pain, and discharging his rifle--aiming low--into the enemy's line. for a while matters are lively. massing at this and that point the swarming matabele will essay a charge, but the deadly machine guns are turned on with telling precision, breaking up every attempt at organised movement, and the veldt is strewn with dark bodies, dead, motionless, or writhing in death--and shields flung around in all directions, for which their owners will never more have use. but within the laager the organisation is complete. every man has his own duty to do and does it, and has no time or attention to spare for what is going on elsewhere. "come along, blachland!" shouted another member of the scouting section, in a state of the wildest excitement. "jump on your gee, man! we've got to go and turn back those horses, or we'll lose every hoof of them." he addressed, looked round and took in the situation at a glance, and a thrilling one it was. a large troop of horses, which had been grazing outside, by some blundering on the part of the herders, had been headed off while being driven into the laager, and now were making straight in the direction of the enemy's lines. there was little organisation among the handful of mounted men who dashed forth to turn them back, but there was plenty of coolness, commonsense, and unflinching courage. away streamed the panic-stricken horses, but soon at a hard hand gallop, and keeping well off them, the pursuers were forging up even with the leaders of the stampede. "hold to the right! more to the right!" cried blachland, edging further in the direction indicated, even though it took him perilously near the swarming lines of the matabele, whom he could now make out, pouring down in a black torrent to cut off himself and his comrades as well as the runaway steeds. but an intense wild exhilaration was upon him now, during this mad gallop: buoyant, devil-may-care, utterly scorning the slightest suspicion of fear. on, on! the sharp "crack--crack" of the rifles of the advancing savages, the "whigge" and hum of missiles overhead--in front--around--all was as nothing. then he realised that they had headed the wild stampede, had turned it away from the enemy's line. and then-- "help, help! for god's sake, don't leave me!" a rumble and a heavy fall immediately behind him. even before he turned his head, he realised what had happened. as he did so he saw it all, the sprawling horse, the rider dragging himself up from the ground. he saw, too, that the fallen man and himself were the last on the outside of the chase, and that the others were receding fast, as, closing further and further in, they were turning the runaway horses back to the camp. he saw, too, that the matabele had noted their brief success, and were rushing forward with redoubled energy and shouts of exultation to secure at any rate this one victim. "for god's sake, don't leave me!" again yelled the unfortunate man, the terror of certain death in his voice, and stamped upon his countenance. and that countenance, in the quick resourceful glance, taking in every chance, every possibility, hilary recognised as that of justin spence. to return was almost certain death. the momentum of the speed of his own horse had carried him some distance onward, even while the agonised cry of the despairing man was sounding in his ears. why should he help him, why throw his own life away for the sake of this cur who had so grossly abused his friendship, requiting it in such mean and despicable fashion? anybody else--but this one--no, he would not. yet what was it that rose before his mental light in that crucial moment. not the face of her for whom yonder man now about to meet a bloody death had betrayed him--but another and a purer vision swept his brain, and it was as the face of an angel from heaven, for it was that of lyn. hilary blachland triumphed. turning his steed with a mighty wrench, he rode straight back to the unhorsed trooper. from the ranks of the charging savages, now near enough to recognise him, there arose a mighty roar. "isipau! ha! isipau!" "quick, spence! get up behind me. quick!" the other needed no second bidding. as the horse with its double burden--either of these, singly, would have been a sufficient one for the poor brute, blown as he was--started once more, the foremost line of the savages was barely two hundred yards distant. leaping, bounding, uttering their blood-curdling war-hiss, they reckoned their prey secure. the horse, weighted like that could never distance them. they would overtake it long before camp should be reached. already they gripped their assegais. "sit tight, spence, or you'll pull us both to the ground," said hilary, with a sardonic suspicion that if the other saw a chance of throwing him off without risking a similar fate himself, he was quite mean enough to seize it. "sit light too, if you can, and spare the horse as much as possible." down into a hollow, and here, in the bed of a dry watercourse, the game steed stumbled heavily, but just saved his footing, and thereby the lives of his two riders. bullets flew humming past now, but it seemed that the din of their pursuers was further behind, and indeed such was the case, for they arrived at the laager at the same time as the rescued troop horses. "good god! blachland! you are a splendid fellow, and i owe you my life," gasped the rescued man. "but what must you think of me?" he added shamefacedly. "no more no less than i did before," was the curt reply. "get off now. you're quite safe." "you ought to get the v.c. for this," went on spence. but the other replied by coupling that ardently coveted decoration with a word of a condemnatory character. "i believe i've nearly killed my horse," he added crustily. there were those in the laager who witnessed this, and to whom the circumstances of the former acquaintanceship between the two men were known--but they tactfully refrained from making any comment. percival west, however, was not so reticent. "why, hilary, you splendid old chap, what have you done?" he cried, fairly dancing with delight. "why didn't you take me with you though--" "oh go away, percy. you are such a silly young ass," was the very ill-humoured reception wherewith his transports were greeted by his kinsman. the fight was over now and the enemy in retreat. yet not routed, for he still hung about at a safe distance, in sufficient force to make things warm for any pursuing troop who should venture after him into the thicker bush, until a few deftly planted shells taught him that he had not yet achieved a safe distance. then he drew off altogether. chapter three. a flaming throne. "too late, boys, i guess the southern column got there first." and the utterer of this remark lowered his field glasses and turned to the remainder of the little band of scouts with an air of profound conviction. away in the distance dense columns of smoke were rising heavenward. for some time this group of men had been eagerly intent upon watching the phenomenon through their glasses, and there was reason for their eagerness, for they were looking upon the goal of the expedition, and what should practically represent the close of the campaign--bulawayo to wit, but--bulawayo in flames. who had fired it? considerable disappointment was felt and expressed. their prompt march, their hard and victorious fighting had not brought them first to the goal. the southern column had distanced them and was there already. such was the conclusion arrived at on all sides. one man, however, had let go no opinion. lying full length, his field glass adjusted upon a convenient rock, he had been steadily scanning the burning kraal in the distance during all the foregoing discussion, ignoring the latter as though he were alone on the ground. now he spoke. "there's no southern column thereat all. no sign or trace of a camp." this dictum was received with dissent, even with a little derision. "who's set it on fire then, blachland?" said one of the exponents of the latter phase, with a wink at the others. "you're not going to tell us that lo bengula's set his own shop alight?" "that's about what's occurred," was the tranquil reply. "at least i think so." "it's more'n likely blachland's right, boys," said one of the scouts, speaking with a pronounced american accent. "he's been there anyway." with renewed eagerness every glass was once more brought to bear. there appeared to be four great columns of smoke, and these, as they watched, were merging into one, of vast volume, and now bright jets of flame were discernible, as the fire licked its way along the thatch of the grass huts. then something strange befel. they who watched saw a fresh outburst of smoke rise suddenly like an enormous dome from the centre of that already ascending, seeming to bear aloft on its summit the fragments of roofs, fences, _debris_ of every description, and then they were conscious of a mighty roar and a vibrating shock, as the whole mass subsided, releasing the flames, which shot up anew. "that's an explosion!" cried some one excitedly. "old lo ben's not only burnt his nest, but blown it up into the bargain." for some time further they lay there watching the distant work of destruction. then it was decided that their number should be divided, and while some returned to the column to report the result of their observations, the remainder should push on, and get as near bulawayo as they possibly could--an undertaking of no slight risk, and calling for the exercise of unflagging caution, for there was no telling what bands of the enemy might be hovering about in quite sufficient strength to prove dangerous to a mere handful, though the opinion was that the bulk of the nation's forces, with the king, had fled northward. "well, percy? tired of this kind of fun yet?" said blachland as he and his young kinsman rode side by side, the two or three more also bent on this service advancing a little further on their right flank. "rather not. i wish it wasn't going to be over quite so quickly." the other laughed. "i'm not so sure that it is," he said. "eh? but we've got bulawayo." "but we haven't got lo ben yet. my impression is that the tougher part of this campaign is going to begin now. i may be wrong of course, but that's my impression." "oh, then that settles it," answered percival, not ironically, but in whole-hearted good faith, for his belief in, and admiration for his relative had reached the wildest pitch of enthusiasm. there was no greater authority in the world, in his estimation, on everything to do with the country they were in. he would have accepted hilary's opinion and acted upon it, even though it went clean contrary to those in command all put together, upon any subject to do with the work in hand, and that with the blindest confidence. and then, had he not himself witnessed hilary's gallant and daring deed, during the battle fought a couple of days ago? his presence there with the scouts instead of as an ordinary trooper in the column, he owed to his relative, the latter having specially asked that he should be allowed to accompany him in such capacity. blachland at that juncture, with his up-to-date knowledge of the country and the natives, was far too useful a man not to stretch a point for, and percival west, although new to that part, was accustomed to sport and outdoor life at home, and brimful of pluck and energy, and now, in the short time he had been out, had thoroughly adapted himself to the life, and the vicissitudes of the campaign. to the cause of their being up here together hilary never alluded, but he noted with quiet satisfaction that the cure in the case of his young cousin seemed complete. once the latter volunteered a statement to that effect. "ah, yes," he had replied. "nothing like a life of this sort for knocking any nonsense of that kind out of a fellow--" mentally adding, somewhat grimly, "when he's young." for hilary blachland himself did not find the busy and dangerous, and at times exciting, work of the campaign by any means such an unfailing panacea as he preached it to his younger relative. with it all there was plenty of time for thought, for retrospect. what an empty and useless thing he had made of life, and now the best part of it was all behind him--now that it had been brought home to him that there was a best part, now that it was too late. he was familiar with the axiom that those who sell themselves to the devil seldom obtain their price, and had often scoffed at it: for one thing because he did not believe in the devil at all. yet now, looking back, he had come to recognise that, in substance at least, the axiom was a true one. yes, the better part of his life was now behind him, with its ideals, its possibilities, its finer impulses. carrying his bitter introspect within the physical domain, had he not become rough and weather-beaten and lined and seamed and puckered? it did not strike him as odd that he should be indulging in such analysis at all--yet had he let anybody else, say any of his present comrades, into the fact that he was doing so, they would have deemed him mad, for if there was a man with that expedition who was envied by most of his said comrades as the embodiment of cool, sound daring, combined with astute judgment, of rare physical vigour and striking exterior, assuredly that man was hilary blachland. yet as it was, he regarded himself with entire dissatisfaction and disgust, and the medium through which he so regarded himself was named lyn bayfield. her memory was ever before him; more, her presence. asleep or awake, in the thick of the hardest toil and privation of the campaign, even in the midst of the discharge of his most important and responsible duties yet never to their detriment, the sweet, pure, lovely fairness of her face was there. he had come to worship it with a kind of superstitious adoration as though in truth the presence of it constituted a kind of guardian angel. was he, after all, in love with lyn? he supposed that not a man or woman alive, knowing the symptoms, but would pronounce such to be the case, even as one woman had done. but he knew better, knew himself better. the association of anything so gross, so earthly, here, he recoiled from as from an outrage. it was the unalloyed adoration of a strange, a holy and a purifying influence. in love with her? he, hilary blachland, at his time of life, and with his experience of life, in love! why, the idea was preposterous, grotesque. he recalled the time he had spent beneath the same roof with her, and the daily association. it would be treasured, revered to the utmost limit of his life, as a sacred and an elevating period, but--as an influence, not a passion. he had exchanged correspondence with bayfield more than once since leaving, and had received two or three letters from lyn--expressing-- well, simply lyn. he had answered them, and treasured them secretly as the most priceless of his possessions. from bayfield he had learned that the disturbing element had refrained from further molestation, and had moreover, taken her own departure from the neighbourhood almost immediately, a piece of intelligence which afforded him indeed the liveliest gratification. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ as they drew near to their objective, other kraals near and around bulawayo itself, were seen to be on fire. but no sign of their recent occupants. for all trace remaining of the latter, the whole matabele nation might have vanished into thin air. "that's extraordinary," remarked blachland, taking a long steady look through his glasses. "that's sybrandt's house down there and they haven't burnt it," pointing out a collection of buildings about a mile from the site of the great kraal. "so it is. wonder if it means a trap though," said another of the scouts. "by jingo! there's some one signalling up there. i'll bet my bottom dollar it's a white man by the look of him. and--there are two of 'em." such was in fact the case--and the biggest surprise of all came off when a couple of white traders, well known to most of them, came forward to welcome them to the conquered and now razed capital. there these two had dwelt throughout the campaign, often in peril, but protected by the word of the king. lo bengula had burnt his capital and fled, taking with him the bulk of the nation. he, the dreaded and haughty potentate of the north, whose rule had been synonymous with a terror and a scourge, had gone down before a mere handful of whites, he, the dusky barbarian, the cruel despot, according to popular report revelling in bloodshed and suffering, had taken his revenge. he had protected these two white men alone in his power--had left them, safe and sound in person, unharmed even in their possessions, to welcome the invading conquerors, their countrymen, to the blazing ruins of his once proud home. such the revenge of this savage. the southern column did not arrive till some days after the first occupation of bulawayo, and some little time elapsed, resting and waiting for necessary supplies, before the new expedition should start northward, to effect if possible, the capture of the fugitive king. several up-country going men were here foregathered. "i say, blachland," said old pemberton, with a jerk of the thumb to the southward, "we didn't reckon to meet again like this last time when we broke camp yonder on the matya'mhlope, and old lo ben fired you out of the country? eh?" "not much, did we? you going on this new trot, sybrandt?" "i believe so. what do you think about this part of the world, west?" "here, let's have another tot all round," interrupted pemberton who, by the way, had had just as many as were good for him. "you ain't going to nobble lo ben, sybrandt, so don't you think it." "who says so, pemberton?" "i say so. didn't i say blachland 'ud never get to umzilikazi's grave? didn't i? well, he never did." possibly because the old trader was too far on in his cups the quizzical glance which passed between blachland and sybrandt--who was in the know--at this allusion, went unnoticed. pemberton continued, albeit rather thickly: "didn't i say he'd never get there? didn't i? well, i say the same now. you'll never get there. you'll never nobble lo ben. see if i ain't right." chapter four. the retreat of the patrol. the patrol held on its retreat. wearily on, from day to day, nearly a hundred and a half of hungry, ragged, footsore men--their clothing well-nigh in tatters, their feet bursting out of their boots, in several instances strips of clothing wound round their feet, as a sort of tinkered substitute for what had once been boots, as sole protection against thorns and stony ground, and the blades of the long tambuti grass, which cut like knives--depression at their hearts because of the score and a half of brave staunch comrades whom they had but the faintest hope of ever beholding again-- depression too, in their faces, gaunt, haggard and unkempt, yet with it a set fierce look of determination, a dogged, never-say-die expression, still they held on. and ever upon their flanks hovered the savage enemy, wiser now in his generation, wasting his strength no more in fierce rushes, to be mown helplessly down with superior weapons. under cover of his native bush he could harry the retreating whites from day to day. and he did. very different the appearance of this group of weary, half-starved men, fighting its way with indomitable courage and resource, through the thick bush and over donga-seamed ground, and among rough granite hillocks, to that of the smart, light-hearted fellows, repelling each fierce rush of the matabele impis, in the skilfully constructed waggon laagers. every rise surmounted revealed but the same heart-breaking stretch of bush and rocks, and dongas through which the precious maxims had to be hauled at any expenditure of labour and time--to be borne rather, for the carriages of the said guns had been abandoned as superfluous lumber--and all through the steamy heat of the day the roar of the swollen river on the one hand never far from their ears--and, overhead, that of the thunder-burst, which should condemn them to pass a drenched and shivering night. for this expedition, with the great over-weening british self-confidence which has set this restless little island in the forefront of the nations--has started to effect with so many--or rather so few--men, what might or might not have been effected with just four times the number--in a word has started to do the impossible and--has not done it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "well, percy, do you still wish this fun wasn't going to be over quite so quickly?" "no. yet i don't know. i suppose it's only right to see some of the rougher side, as well as the smooth," answered the young fellow pluckily--though truth to tell his weariness and exhaustion were as great as that of anybody else. there was the same hollow, wistful look in his face, the same hardened and brick-dust bronze too, and his hands were not guiltless of veldt-sores, for he had borne his full share both of the hardships and the fighting and was as thoroughly seasoned by now as any of them. "i was something of a prophet when i told you the toughest part of the campaign was to come, eh?" said blachland, filling up his pipe with nearly the last shreds of dust remaining in his pouch. "rather. i seem to forget what it feels like not to be shot at every day of my life," was the answer. "and this beastly horseflesh! faugh!" "man! that's nothing," said sybrandt, his mouth full of the delicacy alluded to, while he replaced a large slice of the same upon the embers to cook a little more. "what price having to eat snake?" "no. i'd draw the line at that," answered percival quickly. "would you? wait until you're stuck on a little island for three days with your boat drifted away, and a river swarming with crocodiles all round you. you'd scoff snake fast enough, and be glad to get him." "tell us the yarn," said percival wearily. but before the other could comply, a message from the officer in command arrived desiring his presence, and sybrandt, snatching another great mouthful of his broiling horseflesh, got up and went. "another wet night, i'm afraid?" said blachland philosophically, reaching for a red-hot stick to light his pipe, which the rain dripping from his weather-beaten hat-brim was doing its best to put out. "here, have a smoke, spence," becoming alive to the wistful glance wherewith he whom he had named was regarding the puffs he was emitting. spence stretched forth his hand eagerly for the pouch, then thrust it back again. "no. it's your last pipe," he said. "i won't take it." "take it, man. i expect there's a good accumulation of 'bacco dust in my old coat pockets. i can fall back on that at a pinch." spence complied, less out of selfishness than an unwillingness to go against the other in any single detail. a curious change had come over him since his rescue--since the man he had wronged, as he thought, had ridden into the very jaws of death to bring him out. he regarded his rescuer now with feelings akin to veneration. he had at the time, expressed his sorrow and regret in shamefaced tones, but blachland had met him with the equable reassurance that it didn't matter. and then he had eagerly volunteered for this expedition because blachland was in it, and once there, he had watched his rescuer with untiring pertinacity to see if there was nothing he could do for him, even if he could risk his life for him. more than once he had striven stealthily to forego his own scanty rations when they were messing together, pretending he loathed food, so that there might be a little more for this man whom he now regarded in the light of a god; but this and other attempts had been seen through by their object, and effectually, though tactfully, frustrated. hunger and exhaustion, however, are somewhat of an antidote to even the finest of finer feelings, and justin spence was destined to experience the truth of this. the patrol was resting. thick bush surrounded the position, with long grass and boulders. but the ground had been well scouted in advance: and in rear--well, the strength of the command was distributed in that direction. there were granite kopjes, too, which could be turned to good account. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "_whau_!" grunted ziboza, the fighting induna of the ingubu regiment. "i think we have them now. they have no more waggons to hide behind, and the _izikwakwa_ are broken down, for did we not find their wheels? these are they who would have captured the great great one. we shall see, ah--ah! now we shall see." squirming like snakes through the long grass and bush, the matabele advance, stopping every now and again to reconnoitre. they can hear the subdued hum of voices in the sorry camp of the whites--and on each face raised to peer forward, there is a ferocious grin of anticipation. in obedience to the signalled orders of their leaders they spread their ranks, so as to be in a position to surround that sorry command with the first order issued. more and more are pressing on from behind--and the bush is alive with swarming savages, creeping, crawling onward. the dreaded _izikwakwa_ are broken now. they have only to fear the ordinary fire of that handful of whites, to surround them, rush in and make an end. of a truth the agency that supplied lo bengula with firearms was a far-seeing benefactor to its countrymen. for those warriors now in the front line of attack who have rifles, no power on earth can restrain from using them. they now open fire, hot and heavy but wild. no more surprise now, no wild rush of overwhelming numbers with the deadly assegai. the _coup-de-main_ has failed. like magic the whites are in position, replying with sparing, but deadly and well-directed fire--as the plunge and fall of more than one warrior flitting from bush to bush, testifies. but the forward rush has carried some right among the remaining horses of the patrol, and the assegai is plied with deadly effect, as the savages slash right and left, burying their reeking blades within the vitals of the poor animals. it is something to kill at any rate, and besides, goes for towards crippling the movements of their human enemies. "_jji-jji_! _jji-jji_!" the ferocious death-hiss vibrates amid the trampling and squealing and the fall of the slaughtered animals. and then--what is this? through and above the discharge of rifles, the sharp, staccato, barking sound so known to them, so dreaded by them--as the maxims speak. is there no doing anything with these invulnerable whites? they have left the wheels behind, even as brave ziboza has just said, but--they have mounted the _izikwakwa_ on sticks, each _on three sticks_, and the deadly muzzles are sweeping round as usual, pouring in their leaden hail. "percy--spence! up here, quick!" says blachland--and in a moment they are within the sheltering boulders of a kopje. two other men are already there. "_au_! _isipau_!" cry some of the matabele, who have seen and recognised him. and a sharp discharge follows, at least two of the missiles humming unpleasantly near. "watch that point!" says blachland grimly, designating a spot where a bit of bare rock surface, the length of a man, showed out in the bush beneath. and almost with the words his piece went off. a brown, writhing body rolled forward from the cover, the flung away shield and assegais falling with a rattle. "that scalp yours, blachland," observed one of the american scouts who was up there with them. "oh, snakes!" the last ejaculation is evoked by an uncomfortably near missile, which grazing the granite slab immediately behind the speaker, hums away at a tangent into space. it is followed by another and another: in fact a settled determination to make it hot for the holders of that particular kopje upon the part of the enemy seems to have followed upon the recognition of blachland. "lie close, you fellows!" warns the latter. "hallo! that's sybrandt signalling me. it's an old hunting call of ours," as a peculiar chirping whistle travels over from an adjacent granite pile. "ah, i thought so." quick as thought he has wormed himself behind another stone and now peeps forth. below, a couple of hundred yards distant, dark forms are crawling. the bush is thinner there, and the object of the savages is to pass this, with a view to extending the surround. blachland and the american have both taken in this, and the thud and gurgling groans following on the simultaneous crash of their pieces tell that they have taken it in to some purpose. at the same time a cross fire from among the boulders where sybrandt and some others are lying, throws the matabele into a momentary but demoralising muddle of consternation. the rain has ceased, but in the damp air the smoke hangs heavy over the dark heads of the bushes. down in the camp, the sullen splutter of rifles, and ever and anon the angry, knock-like bark of the maxims. there is a lull, but again and again the firing bursts forth. with undaunted persistency the savages return to the assault, howling out jeering taunts at those who a short while back they reckoned as sure and easy prey--but with dogged pertinacity the defence is kept up. one man falls dead while serving a maxim, and several more horses are shot. at length the firing slackens. the enemy seem to have had enough. quickly the orders are passed round. those in the kopjes are to remain there, covering the retreat of the rest of the patrol, until this shall have gained better ground some little way beyond. then the very heavens above took part in the fight, and in a trice the deafening, stunning thunder crashes rendered the sputter of the volleys as the noise of mere popguns, and the lurid blinding glare of lightning, pouring down in rivers of sheeting flame, put out the flash of man's puny weapons. "this is rather more risky than their bullets, eh hilary?" remarked percival west, involuntarily shrinking down from one of these awful flashes. "gun barrels are a good conductor," was the grimly consolatory reply. so, too, are assegai blades. in the midst of that stunning awful crash that seems to split open the world, five matabele warriors are lying, mangled, fused into all shapes--and shapelessness--while nearly twice that number besides are lying stunned, as though smitten with a blow of a knob-kerrie. "_mamo_!" cries ziboza, who is just outside the limit of this destruction, himself unsteady from the shock. "lo, the very heavens above are fighting on the side of these whites!" chapter five. a sublime lie. "trooper skelsey missing, sir." such the terse report. the patrol had continued its retreat the night through, taking advantage of the known aversion of the matabele--in common, by the way, with pretty nearly all other savages--to fighting in the dark. now it was just daybreak, and the muster had been called-- with the above result. where had he last been seen? nobody knew exactly. he had formed one of the party left as a rear-guard. sybrandt had, however, exchanged a few words with him since they had all rejoined the patrol. some declared they had seen him since, but, as to time a general mistiness prevailed. "well, i can't send back for him," pronounced the commanding officer curtly. "he must take his chance. i'm not going to risk other men's lives for the sake of one, and seriously weaken the patrol into the bargain." "if you don't mind, major," said blachland, who was standing by, "i'll ride a mile or two back. i believe i can pick him up, and i've got the best horse of the few left us." "guess you'll need him," interjected the american scout. "well, i can't give you any men, blachland," said the major. "no, not one single man. you go at your own risk." "i'll take that. i've been into tighter corners before." here several men volunteered, including percival west. these were curtly dismissed. "i don't want you, percy," said blachland. "in fact i wouldn't have you at any price--excuse my saying so." and there was a laugh, in the midst of which the young fellow gave way to the inevitable. but there was another man who proved less amenable, and that was justin spence. "do let me go, sir," he said, stepping forward. "skelsey and i prospected together once." there was a momentary awkwardness, for all knew that since they had been in the field together the missing man had refused to exchange a word with his former chum and partner, whom he declared, had behaved like an utter cad. in short skelsey had proved more implacable than the man presumably most injured. "no. return to your duty at once." "i'll blow my brains out then, and you'll lose one more man at any rate." "place corporal spence under arrest immediately," said the major sternly. "don't be a fool, spence," said blachland kindly. "you'd be more hindrance than help to me really--and so would any one except sybrandt, but we can't take two scouts away at once." the commanding officer thought so too, and was in a correspondingly bad humour. but blachland was far too valuable a man to gainsay in a matter of this kind, besides, he had a knack of getting his way. now having got it, he lost no time in preparations or farewells. he simply started. "his contract's too big," said the american, presently. "guess we've nearly seen the last of him." "he'll come through, you'll see," rejoined sybrandt, confidently. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the while blachland was riding along the backward track: not quite on it, but rather above, where possible; scanning every point with lynx-eyed vigilance. once a glimpse of something lying across the track caused his pulses to beat quicker. cautiously he rode down to it. only an old sack dropped during the march. the spoor of the patrol was plain enough, but he remembered that the missing man suffered from fever, and had been slightly wounded during the earlier stages of the campaign. the possibilities were all that he had been overtaken with sudden faintness and had collapsed, unperceived by the rest--in which case a lonely and desolate end here in the wilds, even if the more merciful assegai of the savage did not cut short his lingerings. and he himself had been too near such an end, deserted and alone, not to know the horror of it. no blame whatever was due to the commanding officer in refusing to send back--indeed he was perfectly right in so doing. the rules of war, like those of life, are stern and pitiless. for many days the patrol had fought its way through swarming enemies, and in all probability, would have to again. weakened in strength, in supplies, and at this stage, with ammunition none too plentiful, its leaders could not afford to weaken it still further, and delay its advance, and risk another conflict, with the ultimate chance of possible massacre, for the sake of one man. that much was certain. and he, hilary blachland, who at one time would have endorsed the hard necessity without a qualm, hardened, ruthless, inexorable, why should he run such grave and deadly risk for the sake of one man who was only an acquaintance after all--yet here he was doing so as a matter of course. what had changed him? he knew. and the risk was great--deadly indeed. the savages had hung upon the rear of the patrol right up to the fall of night, and the subsequent retreat. the bush was full of them, and in unknown numbers. it was to him a marvel and a mystery that he had as yet sighted none. other sign, too, did not escape his practised understanding. there was no game about, none whatever--and even the birds flitting from spray to spray were abnormally shy and wild. now he could locate, some way ahead of him, the scene of yesterday's fight. then an idea struck him. what if the missing man, confused by the spoor, had made for the river bank, intending to follow it? deflecting to his right he crossed the track, and rode along it on the farther edge, minutely examining the ground. ha! just as he thought. footmarks--the imprint of boots--very ragged, half soleless boots--the footprints of one man. these turned out of the spoor, and slightly at right angles took the direction of the river bank. there was no difficulty whatever in following them. in the deep, soft ground, rendered almost boggy in parts by the recent and continuous rains, their imprint was as the face of an open book. blachland's heart rose exceedingly. he would soon find the wanderer, mount him behind him on his horse and bring him back safely. then another thought struck him. skelsey was no raw britisher. he was a natal man, and had been up-country, prospecting, for the last two or three years. why the deuce then should he be unable to follow a plain broad spoor, for this seemed the only way of accounting for his deflection? well, he would very soon overtake him now, so it didn't matter. didn't it? what was this? and blachland, pulling in his horse, sat there in his saddle, his face feeling cold and white under its warm bronze. for now there were other footmarks and many of them. and these were the marks of naked feet. they seemed to have clustered together in a confused pattern, all around the first spoor. it was as plain as the title page of a book. they had struck the two foot marks here and had halted to consult. then they had gone on again--not along the first spoor, but diagonally from it. he himself adopted the same course, taking the other side of the single spoor. in this way if the missing man were travelling straight he would reach him first--would reach him and bear him off before the destroyers now pursuing him like hounds should run into him. but it would be a near thing. the dull hoarse roar of the swollen river sounded close in front. louder and louder it grew. the missing man could not be far ahead now. rising in his stirrups he gazed anxiously around. no sign. he dared not shout. the band of matabele who were in pursuit of skelsey could not be far distant on his left. he was almost on the river bank, and still no sign of the fugitive. well, the roar of the water would prevent his voice from reaching far--anyhow he would risk it. "skelsey! where are you?" he called, but not loudly. "skelsey!" he listened intently. was that an answer? something between a cry and a groan--and--it was behind him. he turned his horse, and as he did so, the thought occurred to him that he might be walking into a trap--that the savages might already have butchered his comrade, and be lying in wait to take him with the least trouble and risk to themselves. well, he must chance it, and the chances were about even. "skelsey! where are you, old chap?" he called again in a low tone. this time an answer came, but faintly. "here." lying under a bush was the missing man. he raised his head feebly, and gazed with lack-lustre eyes at his would-be rescuer. "get up behind me, quick!" said the latter. "can't. i've sprained my ankle. can't stand. i was going to crawl to the river and end it all." "well, you've got to ride instead. come, i'll give you a hand. quick, man! there are a lot of matabele after you, i struck their spoors." the while he had been helping the other to rise. skelsey groaned and ground his teeth with the pain. he was exhausted too, with starvation. "can't help it. you must pull yourself together," said blachland, hoisting him into the saddle and himself mounting behind. "now stick tight on for all you know how, for we've got to run for it." "ping-ping!" a bullet hummed overhead, then another. the horse snorted and plunged forward, nearly falling. the ground was rough, the condition of the animal indifferent, and the double burden considerably too much for his strength. there followed another crash or two of rifles from behind, then no more. the savages reckoned their prey secure. they could easily distance a lean horse, badly overloaded, on such ground as this, without further expenditure of ammunition. now they streamed forward through the bush to overtake and butcher the two fugitives. of the above blachland was as fully aware as the pursuers themselves. there was no safety for two, not a ghost of a chance of it. for one there was a chance, and it fairly good. which was that one to be? "_jji--jji!--jji--jji_!" the hideous battle-hiss vibrated upon the air in deep-toned stridency. a glance over his shoulder. he could see the foremost of the savages ranging up nearer and nearer, assegais gripped ready to run in and stab. which was that one to be? in the flash of that awful moment a vision of lyn rose before him--lyn, in her fair, sweet, golden-haired beauty. was he never to see her again? why not? a loosening of his hold of the man in the saddle in front of him, a slight push, and he himself was almost certainly safe. no human eye would witness the deed, least of all would it ever be suspected. on the contrary, all would bear witness how he had ridden back into grave peril to try and rescue a missing comrade, and lyn would approve--and even a happiness he had hardly as yet dared dream of might still be his. and--it should. "can you stick on if i don't have to hold you, skelsey?" "yes. i think so. i'm sure i can." "well, then, stick on for god's sake, and go," was the quick eager rejoinder. "i'm hit in two places--mortally. i'm dead already, but you needn't be. good-bye." he slid to the ground. the horse, relieved of its double burden, shot forward, its pace accelerated by a stone, lightly hurled by its late owner, which struck it on the hindquarters. a glance convinced him that his comrade was now in comparative safely, and hilary blachland turned to await the onrushing mass of his ruthless foes--single-handed, alone, and--as yet, absolutely unhurt. his temptation had been sharp, searching and fiery. but his triumph was complete. chapter six. his triumph. in uttering that sublime lie, hilary blachland had set the seal to his triumph. but for it his comrade would have refused to leave him, on that point he was sure, whereas to throw away his life for one who was dead already, would be an act of sheer lunacy on skelsey's part. one must die or both, and he had elected to be that one. yet the actual horror and sting of the death which now stared him in the face was indescribably terrible. instinctively he took cover behind a stone--for the ground here was open and broken. the matabele, reckoning him a sure prey sooner or later, had stayed their forward rush, and, halting within the bush line, began to parley, and not altogether without reason, for there was something rather formidable in the aspect of this well-armed man, who although but one against their swarming numbers, was manifestly determined to sell his life very dearly indeed. they had some experience as to what that meant--and recently. "ho, isipau!" called out a great voice. "come now and talk with some of your old friends." "i think not, ziboza," came the answer. "for the looks of most of you are not friendly." "are you come to capture the great great one, isipau?" jeered another voice, and a shout of derision backed up the words. "no. i came to find a comrade who was left behind sick. i have found him--and now, _amadoda_, when i return i can speak more than one good word on behalf of the great great one, and of those who suffered me to return when they might have given me some trouble." "when thou returnest, isipau!" roared several of the young warriors with a burst of mocking laughter. "when thou returnest! _au_! but that will be never." "nobody knows. i do not--you do not. but it will be better for all here if i do return." for a while there was no response, save another burst of laughter. then ziboza spoke: "come now over to us, isipau. we will take thee to the black elephant." blachland pondered. could he trust them? if they actually meant to take him to the king, then indeed he stood a good chance, for he did not believe that lo bengula would allow him to be harmed, and he did believe that once face to face with him he could persuade the fugitive king to surrender. but could he trust them, that was the crux? rapidly he ran over the situation within his mind. this ziboza he knew fairly well as an inveterate hater of the whites, one of those moreover who had perpetually urged upon lo bengula the necessity of murdering all white men in his country. he thought too, of the moment, when disarmed and helpless, he should stand at their mercy, and what that "mercy" would mean why more than one act of hideous barbarity which he himself had witnessed, was sufficient to remind him. moreover, even while thus balancing probabilities, certain scraps of smothered conversation reached his ears. that decided him. he would not place himself within their power. it only remained to sell his life dearly. if only it were near the close of the day, he could hold them off for a while, and perhaps, under cover of darkness, escape. but it was hardly yet full noon. they could get round him and rake him with a cross fire. bad marksmen as they were, they could hardly go on missing him all day. "come then, isipau!" called out ziboza. "lay down thy weapons and come." "no. go ye now away and leave me. peace is not far distant and many good words will i speak for you because of this day." a jeering roar, now of rage, now of disappointment, greeted his words. at the same time blachland sighted one of them kneeling down with his piece levelled, and taking deliberate aim at him. an instinct moved him to drop down behind the stone, and the instinct was a true one, for as he did so a bullet sang through the spot where his head and shoulders had been but a fraction of a second before. two others hummed over him, but high. he put his hat up above the stone, holding it by the brim. "whigge!"-- another bullet hummed by, almost grazing it. "some devil there can shoot, anyway," he growled to himself. "if only i could get a glint of him. ah!" a stratagem had occurred to him. he managed to fix the hat just so that the top of it should project, then creeping to the edge of the boulder, he peered round, his piece sighted and ready. just as he thought. the head and shoulders of a savage, taking aim at the hat--and then with the crash of his own rifle that savage was spinning round and turning a convulsive somersault, shot fair and square through the head. his slayer set his teeth, with a growl that was half exulting, half a curse. his foes were going to find that they had cornered a lion indeed--so much he could promise them. the mutterings of wrath and dismay which arose among them over this neat shot, were drowned in a furious volley. every man who possessed a firearm seemed animated with a kind of frenzied desire to discharge it as quickly and as often as possible at and around the rock behind which he lay. for a few moments the position was very sultry indeed. it might have been worse but that the moral of that deadly shot rendered his assailants exceedingly unwilling to leave their cover or expose themselves in any way. on his right the river bank was but a couple of hundred yards, and running up from this was a bush-fringed donga, which might be any or no depth, but which ended at about half that distance. upon this blachland had got his eye and was puzzling out as to how he might turn it to account. now he discovered that the same idea was occurring to his assailants, for although the intervening space was almost devoid of bush, the grass was long and tangled from the bush line to the chasm, and it was shaking and quivering in a very suspicious manner. "great minds jump together," he muttered grimly, all his attention centred on this point, and entirely disregarding a terrific fire which was suddenly opened upon him, with the object, he suspected, of diverting it. "just as i thought." one glimpse only, of the naked, crawling savage, flattened to the earth, but even that was sufficient. the thud of the bullet ploughing through ribs and vitals, was music to his ears as that savage flattened out more completely, beating the earth in his death throes; and a very shout of exultant snarling laughter escaped him--mingling with the roar of rage that went up from his enemies. he was growing terrible now--ferocious, bloodthirsty, as his ruthless foes, yet cool and firm as the rock behind which he lay. "two shots, two birds!" he exclaimed. "if i can keep on at this rate it's good enough." the assailants were now mad with rage. they howled out taunts and jeers, and blood-curdling promises of the vengeance they would wreak upon him when they got him into their power. at this he laughed-- laughed long and loud. "that will be never!" he cried. "ho, ziboza, thou valiant fighting induna. how many of the king's hunting dogs does it take to pull down one lion? are the ingubu all killed or have they driven thee from their midst to follow a new leader? but i tell thee, ziboza, thou art a dead man this day. i may be, but thou art surely." "ah--ah--'sipau!" snarled the chief. "it is easy to boast, but thou art cornered. we have thee now." "not yet. and a cornered animal is a dangerous one. come and take me." to this interchange of amenities succeeded a lull. clearly they were planning some fresh surprise. and then blachland started, with a pang of sharp pain. his left hand was streaming blood. then his spirits rose again. it was only a cut. a splinter of stone, chipped by one of their bullets, had struck him, but the wound was a trivial one. with the discovery, however, came another, and one which was by no means trivial. the bullet had been fired at a different angle from those hitherto. the ground on the left front rose slightly. his enemies were getting round him on that side. soon he would be exposed to a complete flanking fire. the worst of it was that in that direction he could see nobody. the cover was too good. he wondered they had not occupied this before, unless it were that they deemed it of the highest importance to cut off all chance of his escape by the river. yet what chance had he there? a mere choice of deaths, for it was rolling down in flood, and between this and their fire from the bank, why, there was none at all. and now the sun, which had been shining warm and glowing above this scene of stern and deadly strife, upon the beleaguered man, desperate, fighting to the last, beset by a swarm of persistent and ruthless foes-- suddenly grew dark. a shadow had curtained its face, black and lowering. blachland sent a hasty glance upward. one of those storms, almost of daily occurrence now in the rainy season, would shortly break over them. would it bring him any advantage, however trifling--was his eager thought? at any rate it could not alter his position for the worse. and the hoarse and sullen boom of thunder mingled with the vengeful spit of the rifles of his enemies, now more frequent and more deadly because taking him from a new and almost unprotected quarter. ha! what was this? under cover of this last diversion his enemies had been stealing up. they were coming on in dozens, in scores, from the first point of attack. selecting two of the foremost, one behind the other, he fired--and his aim was true, but at the same time his rifle fell from his grasp, and his arm and shoulder felt as though crushed beneath a waggon wheel. with fiendish yells, drowning the gasping cry of the stricken warriors, the whole body of them poured forward. at the same time, those on the rise behind, left their cover, and charged down upon him, rending the air with their ear-splitting whistles. he saw what had happened. the rifle had been struck by a bullet, and the concussion had for the moment paralysed him. only for the moment though. quick as the vivid flash which flamed down upon him from the now darkened heavens, his mind was made up. with a suddenness and a fleetness which took even his enemies by surprise, he had broken from his cover, and was racing headlong for the point of the donga which led down to the river. in a second he will gain it. they cannot fire, every nerve is strained to overtake him, to head him off. he sees their foremost line. now it is in front of him. no, not quite! his revolver is out, and the heavy bullet crashes almost point blank through the foremost. another springs up in front of him, a gigantic warrior, his broad spear upraised. before it can descend the fugitive is upon him, and the momentum is too great. grappled together they topple over the edge, and go crashing down, the white man and the savage, into unknown depths. the bushes close over their heads and they are in almost total darkness. there is a mighty splash of water and both are engulfed--yet, still grappled, they rise to the surface again, and the blue glare of the lightning, darting down, reveals the slanting earth walls of the chasm, reveals to each the face of the other as they rise above the turgid water, gasping and sputtering. the savage has lost his assegai in the fall, and the white man is groping hungrily, eagerly, for his sheath knife. "ah, ah! ziboza! did i not tell thee thou wert dead?" "not yet, dog makiwa!" growls the other, in the ferocity of desperation striving to bury his great teeth in his adversary's face. but blachland is in condition as hard as steel, and far more at home in the water than the matabele chief, so while gripping the latter by the wrists, he ducks his head beneath the surface, endeavouring to drown him if possible. he dare not let go his hold lest he should be the one grasped, and those above dare not fire down for fear of shooting their chief--even if they could see the contending parties--which they cannot. but the awful reverberations of the thunder-peal boom and shiver within that pit as of hell, and the lightnings gleam upon the brown turgid surface, and the straining faces of the combatants are even as those of striving fiends. they touch ground now, then lose it again, for the bottom is but a foothold of slippery mud. nearer, nearer to the main stream their struggles have carried them, until the sombre roar of the flood sounds deafening in their ears, and still the awful strife goes on. "ah--ah, ziboza. i told thee thou shouldst meet death this day. _ha! nantzia_! [that is it] _ha_!" and with each throaty, bloodthirsty gasp he plunges the knife, which he has at last managed to free, into the body of the nearly exhausted chief, drawing it down finally in a terrible ripping stroke. a single gasping groan, and ziboza sinks, as his adversary throws him from him. and then the said adversary knows no more. the swirl of the flood sweeping into the chasm, seems to rope him out, and the body of hilary blachland, together with that of his savage antagonist, is borne down within the raging rush of waters, rolling over and over on its way to the zambesi and the sea. chapter seven. "that irreclaimable scamp!" for some while after his departure from lannercost, their recent guest occupied a very large share in the conversation and thoughts of its inmates. he had been so long with them, had become so much one of themselves in their quiet, rather isolated life, and now his absence had left a very real void. he had written to them with fair frequency, telling of up-country doings--of the growing aggressiveness of the matabele, and of the contemplated expedition, with the object of bringing lo bengula to book, then of the actual formation of such expedition, by that time on the eve of a start, and how he and young west had volunteered upon the salisbury column, and were to serve in the scouting section. then correspondence had ceased. the expedition had set out. it was then that bayfield found himself importuned to increase the circulation of two or three other newspapers, in addition to those regularly sent him, by one subscriber, in order that no chance might be missed of seeing the very latest concerning the matabele war, and upon such, lyn and small fred would fasten every post day. "i say, lyn!" cried the latter, disinterring his nose from a newly opened sheet, "but won't mr blachland make lo bengula scoot, when once he gets at him? man! but i'd like to be there." "but he and the king are great friends, fred." "pooh! how can they be friends if they're at war? _nouw ja_--but he just will scoot old lo ben! i'd like to be there." "i hope they'll take all sorts of proper precautions against surprises," said lyn seriously, for she was just old enough to remember the shudder of gloom which ran through the whole country when the disastrous news of isandhlwana had come upon it like a storm-burst fourteen years previously. it had struck vividly upon her childish imagination then and she had not forgotten it. "surprises! i'd like to see them surprise a commando that mr blachland's on," returned fred, magnificent in his whole-souled contempt that any one could even imagine any such possibility. "and these matabele chaps ain't a patch on the zulus. i've heard mr blachland say so again and again. _ja_, he's a fine chap! won't he make old lo ben sit up!" lyn would smile at this kind of oft-repeated expression of her young brother's honest and whole-hearted idolatry, in which, although more reticent herself, she secretly shared. and the object of it? he was always in her thoughts. she delighted to think about him--to talk about him. why not? he was her ideal, this man who had been an inmate of their roof for so long, who had been her daily companion throughout that time and had stored her mind with new thoughts, new ideas, which all unconsciously to herself, had expanded and enlarged it--and not one of which but had improved it. he represented something like perfection to her, this man, no longer young, weather-beaten, somewhat lined, who had come there in the capacity of her father's friend. strange, you see, but then, life is teeming with eccentricities. this state of lyn's mind was not without one interested spectator, and that her father. half amused, half concerned, he watched it--and put two and two together. that outburst of grief in which he had surprised her had never been repeated, and, watching her with loving care, he failed to descry any symptom of it having been, even in secret. but the girl's clear mind was as open and as honest as a mirror. there was no shadow of hesitation or embarrassment in her manner or speech when they talked of their late guest--even before strangers. george bayfield was puzzled. but through it all, as an undercurrent, there ran an idea. he recalled the entire pleasure which blachland had taken in lyn's society, the frank, open admiration he had never failed to express when she or her doings formed the topic of conversation between them--the excellent and complete understanding between him and the girl. what if--too old! not a bit of it. he himself had married very young, and blachland was quite half a dozen years his junior. why, he himself was in his prime-- and as for the other, apart from that shake of fever, he was as hard as nails. now this idea, the more and more it struck root in bayfield's mind, was anything but distasteful to him. the certainty that he must some day lose lyn, was the one ever-haunting grief of his life. he had pictured some externally showy, but shallow-pated youth--on the principle that such things go by opposites--who should one day carry off his lyn, and amid new surroundings and new interests, teach her--unconsciously perhaps, but none the less effectually--to forget her old home, and the father who loved and adored her from the crown of her sweet golden head to her little feet. but here was a man whose experience of the world was greater than his own, a man with an exhaustive knowledge of life, who had immediately seen and appreciated this pearl of great price, a strong man who had lived and done--no mere empty-headed, self-sufficient, egotistical youth; and this man was his friend. he was thoroughbred too, and the worst that could be said of him was that he had sown some wild oats. but apart from the culminating stage in the sowing of that crop--and even there probably there were great extenuating circumstances--nothing mean, nothing dishonourable had ever been laid to hilary blachland's charge. personally, he had an immense liking and regard for him, and, as he had said to himself before, lyn's instinct was never at fault. he remembered now that blachland had declared he could never stand english life again--and--he remembered too, something else, up till now forgotten--how blachland had half chaffingly commissioned him to find out the lowest terms its owner would accept for a certain farm which adjoined lannercost, and which was for sale, because he believed he would squat down for a little quiet life when he returned from up-country. all this came back to him now, and with a feeling of thankful relief, for it meant, in the event of his idea proving well-founded, that his little lyn would not be taken right away from him after all. so the months went by after hilary blachland's departure, but still his memory was kept green and fresh within that household of three. one day, when bayfield was outside, indulging in some such speculation as the above, out to him ran lyn, flourishing one of the newly arrived newspapers. she seemed in a state of quite unwonted excitement, and at her heels came small fred. "father, look, here's news! look. read that. isn't it splendid?" bayfield took the paper, but before looking at the paragraph she was trying to point out, he glanced admiringly at the girl, thinking what a sweet picture she made, her golden hair shining in the sun, her blue eyes wide with animation, and a glow of colour suffusing her lovely clear-cut face. then he read: ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "gallantry of a scout." it was just such a paragraph as is sure to occur from time to time in the chronicling of any of the little wars in which the forces of the british empire are almost unceasingly engaged, in some quarter or other of the same, and it set forth in stereotyped journalese, how hilary blachland of the scouting section attached to the salisbury column, had deliberately turned his horse and ridden back into what looked like certain death, in order to rescue trooper spence, whose horse had been killed, and who was left behind dismounted, and at the mercy of a large force of charging matabele, then but a hundred or two yards distant--and how at immense risk to his rescuer, whose horse was hardly equal to the double load, spence had been brought back to the laager, unharmed, though closely pursued and fired upon all the way. bayfield gave a surprised whistle. "what, father? isn't it splendid?" cried lyn, wondering. "yes. of course." what had evoked the outburst of amazement was the name--the identity of the rescued man--but of this to be sure, lyn knew nothing. so of all others it was destined to be the man who had played him a scurvy dog's trick that blachland was destined to imperil his own life to save: true that the said trick had been a very great blessing in disguise, but that feet did not touch the motive thereof. it remained. "bah! the swine wasn't worth it," went on bayfield, unconsciously. "no, very likely not," assented lyn. "but that makes it all the more splendid--doesn't it, father?" "eh, what? yes, yes--of course it does," agreed bayfield, becoming alive to the fact that he had been thinking out loud. "by jove, lyn, you'll have to design a new order of merit for him when he gets back. what shall it be?" "man, lyn! didn't i tell you he'd make old lo ben scoot?" said fred triumphantly, craning over to have another look at the paragraph, which his father was reading over again. it did not give much detail, but from the facts set forth it was evident that the deed had been one of intrepid gallantry. bayfield, yet deeper in the know, opined that it deserved even an additional name, and his regard and respect for his friend increased tenfold. for the other two--well, there was less chance than ever of hilary blachland's name and memory being allowed to grow dim in that household. "why, he'll soon be back now," said lyn. "the war must be nearly over now they've got to bulawayo." "perhaps. but--they haven't got lo ben yet," replied her father, unconsciously repeating blachland's own words. "they'll have to get him. fancy him blowing up his own place and clearing!" "_ja_. i knew he'd make old lo ben scoot," reiterated fred. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ there was another household something over six thousand miles distant from bayfield's in which the name of hilary blachland was held in honour, which is strange, because the last time we glanced within the walls of this establishment, the reverse was the case. "that out and out irreclaimable scamp!" was the definition of the absent one then. it was hard winter around jerningham lodge when the news of spence's rescue arrived there, and it was sprung upon sir luke canterby in precisely the same manner as he had learned the whereabouts of his erring nephew on that occasion--through the daily papers to wit. he had congratulated himself mightily on the success of percival's mission. the latter's correspondence was full of hilary, and what great times they were having together up-country. then the war broke out and the tidings which reached sir luke of his absent nephews were few and far between. thereupon he waxed testy, and mightily expatiated to his old friend canon lenthall. "they're ungrateful dogs the pair of them. yes, sir--ungrateful dogs i said, and i'll say it again. what business had they to go running their necks into this noose?" the canon suggested that in all probability they couldn't help themselves, that they couldn't exactly turn tail and run away. sir luke refused to be mollified. "it was their duty to. hang it, canon. what did i send percy out there for? to bring the other rascal home, didn't i? and now--and now he stays away himself too. it's outrageous." then had come the news of the capture and occupation of bulawayo, and the events incidental to the progress of the column thither, and sir luke's enthusiasm over his favourite nephew's deed knew no bounds. he became something like a bore on the subject whenever he could buttonhole a listener, indeed to hear him would lead the said listener to suppose that never a deed of self-sacrificing gallantry had been done before, and certainly never would be again, unless perchance by that formerly contemned and now favoured individual hight hilary blachland. "that out and out irreclaimable scamp," murmured the canon with a very comic twinkle in his eyes. then, as his old friend looked rather foolish--"see here, canterby, i don't think i gave you bad advice when i recommended you to put that draft behind the fire." "bad advice! no, sir. i'm a fool sometimes--in fact, very often. but--oh hang it, dick, this is splendid news. shake hands on it, sir, shake hands on it, and you've got to stay and dine with me to-night, and we'll put up a bottle of the very best to drink his health." and the two old friends shook hands very heartily. chapter eight. a fearsome voyage. on rushed the mighty stream, roaring its swollen course down to the zambesi, rolling with it the body of dead ziboza, hacked and ripped, the grand frame of the athletic savage a mere chip when tossed about by the hissing waves of the turbid flood. on, too, rolled the body of his slayer, as yet uninjured and still containing life. and in the noon-tide night, darkened by the black rain-burst which beat down in torrents, and, well-nigh ceaseless, the blue lightning sheeted over the furious boil of brown water and tree trunks and driftwood: and with the awful roar above, even the baffled savages were cowed, for it seemed as though the elements themselves were wrath over the death of a mighty chief. strange are the trifles which turn the scale of momentous happenings. strange, too, and ironical withal, that the body of dead ziboza should be the means of restoring to life its very nearly dead slayer. for the current, bringing the corpse of the chief against a large uprooted tree, upset the balance of this, causing it to rise half out of the water and turn right over. this in its turn impeded a quantity of driftwood, and the whole mass, coming in violent contact with the bank, threw back a great wave, the swirl of which, catching the body of the still-living man, heaved it into a lateral cleft, then poured forth again to rejoin the momentarily impeded current. a glimmer of returning consciousness moved hilary blachland to grasp a trailing bough which swept down into the cleft, a clearer instinct moved him to hold on to it with all his might and main. thus he saved himself from being sucked back into the stream again. for a few minutes thus he crouched, collecting his returning faculties-- and the first thing that came home to him was that he was in one of those cavernlike inlets on the river bank similar to that in which his struggle with ziboza had taken place. stay! was it the same? he had a confused recollection of being swept out into stream, but that might have been an illusion. he peered around. the place was very dark but it was not a cave. the overhanging of one side of the cleft, and the interlacing of bushes and trees above, however, rendered it very like one. but this fissure was much smaller than the one he had fallen into with the matabele chief, nor was it anything like as deep. had he been swept far down the river, he wondered? then he decided such could not have been the case, or he would have been drowned or knocked to pieces among the driftwood, whereas here he was, practically unharmed, only very exhausted. a thrill of exultation ran through his dripping frame as he realised that he was uninjured. but it did not last, for--he realised something further. he realised that he was weaponless. his rifle had been shot from his hand. he had lost his revolver in his fall, and even the sheath knife, wherewith he had slain ziboza, he had relaxed his grasp of at the moment of being swept away. he was that most helpless animal of all--an unarmed man. he realised further that he was in the remotest and most unknown part of little known matabeleland, that he had formed one of a _retreating_ column, which was fighting its own way out, and which would have given him up as dead long ago: that no further advance was likely to be made in this direction for some time to come, and that meanwhile every human being in the country was simply a ruthless and uncompromising foe. he realised, too, that save for a few scraps of grimy biscuit, now soaked to pulp in his jacket pocket, and plentifully spiced with tobacco dust, he was without food--and entirely without means of procuring any--and that he dared not leave his present shelter until nightfall, if then. in sum he realised that at last, even he, hilary blachland, was in very hard and desperate case indeed. were his enemies still searching for him, he wondered, or had they concluded he had met his death in the raging waters of the flooded river, as indeed it seemed to him little short of a miracle that he had not? the rain was still pouring down, and the lightning flashes lit up the slippery sides of his hiding-place with a steely glare: however, the fury of the storm seemed to have spent itself, or passed over, but the bellowing, vomiting voice of the flood as it surged past the retreat, was sufficient to drown all other sounds. then it occurred to him that he could be seen from above by any one peering over. he must get further in. he was more than knee deep in water. towards its head, however, the cleft was dry. it terminated in a cavity just large enough for him to crouch within--overhung too, with thorn bush from above. an ideal hiding-place. the situation reminded him of something. once he had shot a guinea-fowl on a river bank, and the bird had dropped into just such a cleft as this. after a long and careful search, he had discovered it, crouching, just as he was now crouching. it was only winged, however, and fled further into the cleft. he remembered the fierce eagerness with which he had pursued the wounded bird, fearing to lose it, how he had pounced upon and seized it when it came to the end of the cleft and could get no further. well, events had a knack of repeating themselves. he was the hunted one now. wet through now, he shivered to the very bones. the pangs of hunger were gnawing him. he dived a hand into his pocket. the pulpy biscuit was well-nigh uneatable, and black with tobacco dust. there was no help for it. he swallowed the stuff greedily, and it produced a horrible nausea. soaked, chilled through and through, he crouched throughout that long terrible day, and a sort of lightheadedness came over him. once more he was within umzilikazi's sepulchre, and the awful coils of the black _mamba_ were waving, over yonder in the gloom, then, with a prolonged hiss, the terror plunged into the flood which was bearing him along. it had seized his legs beneath the surface and was dragging him down--and then it changed to hermia. she was in the stream with him, and he was striving to save her, and yet fiercely combating a longing to let her drown, but ever around his heart was one yearning, aching pain, an awful, unsatisfied longing for a presence, a glimpse of a face--he hardly realised whose--and it would not come. had he gone mad--he wondered dully, or was this delirium, the beginning of the end, or the terrible unsatisfied longings of another world? then even that amount of brain consciousness faded, and he slept. chilled, soaked, starred-- his case desperate--down there in that clay-girt hole, he slept. when he awoke it was quite dark, and the roar of the flood seemed to have decreased considerably in intensity. clearly the river had ran down. how long he had been asleep he could form no approximate idea, but the thought moved him to hold his watch to his ear even though he could not see it. but it did not tick. the water had stopped it of course. yes, the river had gone down, for no water was left in the cranny now. moreover, the entrance to his hiding-place was several feet above the surface. the next thing was to get out. simple it sounds, doesn't it? but the sides of the cleft, wet and slimy from the rain, offered no foothold. there were boughs hanging from above--but on clambering up these, lo, the lip of the cleft was overhung with a complete _chevaux-de-frise_ of _haakdoorn_, a mass of terrible fishhooks, turned every way, as their manner is, so as to be absolutely impenetrable, save to him who should be armed with a sharp cane knife with abundant room and purchase for plying it. to an enfeebled and exhausted man, obliged to use one if not both hands for holding on to his support and armed with nothing at all, the obstacle was simply unnegotiable. he was at the bottom of a gigantic natural beetle trap--with this difference that there remained one way out: the way by which he had got in--the river to wit. from this alternative he shrank. the flood had very considerably decreased; yet there was abundance of water still running down, quite enough to tax the full resources of an average strong swimmer--moreover, he knew that the banks were clayey and overhanging for a considerable distance down--and over and above that, the rains would have bordered the said banks, even where shelving, with dangerous quicksands. yet another peril lay in the fact that the stream was inhabited by the evil-minded, carnivorous crocodile. it was one thing to choose the river as a means to avoid an even surer peril still, it was quite another to take to it in cold blood, for it might mean all the difference between getting in and getting out again. but a further careful investigation of his prison decided him that it was the only way. letting himself cautiously down, so as to drop with as little splash as possible, he was in the river once more, but somehow the water seemed warmer than the atmosphere in his chilled state, as, partly swimming, partly holding on to a log of driftwood, he allowed the stream to carry him down. it was a weird experience, whirled along by the current in the darkness, the high banks bounding a broad riband of stars overhead, but it was one to be got through as quickly as possible, for have we not said that the river was inhabited by crocodiles? carefully selecting a likely place, the fugitive succeeded in landing. many a man in his position, alone, unarmed, and without food, in the heart of a trackless wilderness whose every inhabitant was uncompromisingly hostile, would have lost his head and got turned round indeed. but hilary blachland was made of different stuff. he was far too experienced and resourceful an up-country man to lose his head in the smallest degree. he understood how to shape his bearings by the stars, and fortunately the sky was unclouded; and in the daytime by the sun and the trend of the watercourses whether dry or not. so he began his retreat, facing almost due south. fortune favoured him, for in the early morning light he espied a large hare sitting up on its haunches, stupidly looking about it. a deft, quick, stone throw, and the too confiding animal lay kicking. here was a food supply which at a pinch would last him a couple of days. selecting as shut in a spot as he could find, he built a fire, being careful to avoid unnecessary smoke, and cooked the hare--his matches had been soaked in the river, but he was far too experienced to be without flint and steel. for four days thus he wandered, without seeing an enemy. a small deserted kraal furnished him with more food, for he knew where to find the grain pits, and then, just as he was beginning to congratulate himself that safety was nearly within his grasp, he ran right into a party of armed matabele. there was only one thing to be done and he did it. advancing with an apparent fearlessness he was far from feeling, he greeted the leader of the party, whom he knew. the demeanour of the savages was sullen rather than overtly hostile, and this was a good sign, still blachland knew that his life hung upon a hair. there was yet another thing he knew, and it was well he did. this petty chief, ngeleza, was abnormally imbued with a characteristic common to all savages--acquisitiveness to wit. this was the string upon which to play. so he represented how anxious he was to return to bulawayo, as soon as possible, ignoring the fact that the war was not over, or indeed that there was any war at all, and that they could not do better than guide him thither. he gave ngeleza to understand that he would pay well for such a service, and not only that, but that all who had the smallest share in its rendering, should receive a good reward--this for the enlightenment of the rest of the band, which numbered a round dozen men. it was well, too, that ngeleza knew him--knew him for a man of substance, and a man of his word. chapter nine. conclusion. the new year is very young now, and lannercost is well-nigh hidden in its wealth of leafiness, and very different is the rich languorous midsummer air to the bracing crispness under which we last saw it. other things are different too, as we, perchance, shall see, but what is not different is the warmth of welcome accorded to hilary blachland to that which he expected it to be--for the war in far-away matabeleland is practically over, and this man who has borne so full a part in it, is enjoying a much-needed and well-earned rest. the news of his first deed of self-sacrificing daring had hardly had time to cool before it was followed by that of the second, more heroic because more hopeless still, but the fact of him being given up for dead by those who witnessed it, did not transpire until after his return to safety, for, as it happened, he reached bulawayo at about the same time as the returning patrol. of the bare mention of these two deeds, however, he most concerned in them is heartily sick and tired. skelsey and spence between them had started the ball and kept it rolling, being enthusiastically aided and abetted therein by percival west. here at lannercost he had stipulated that the subject be absolutely taboo, an understanding however, not always strictly carried out, the greatest offender being small fred. "quite sure you're not making a mistake in putting off going to england, blachland?" bayfield was saying, as the two men, seated together under a tree in front of the stoep, were talking over a transaction just effected. "dead cert. i've earned a rest, and bucketing off on an infernal sea voyage is anything but that. i'll go later. percy can make my peace for me so long, and he'll do it too, for he's about as effective a trumpeter as--well, all the rest of you, bayfield. no. now i've taken on that farm, i'm going to try my hobby, and see how many kinds of up-country animals i can keep there. shall have to go to england some day, and then i think we'd better all go together." "don't know. we might. did you hear that, lyn? we are all to go to england together." the girl had just appeared on the stoep. she was looking exquisitely fair and sweet. there were times when hilary blachland could hardly believe that he was wide awake, and not merely dreaming, that the presence which had been with him in spirit throughout his wanderings, in hardship and direst peril, was actually and really with him now, from day to day, and this was one of them. "i think it would be rather nice," she answered, coming over to join them. "but you don't really mean it, father? when?" "ask blachland," was the quizzical rejoinder. "it's his scheme--eh-- what's up, jafta?" for that estimable hottentot had appeared on the scene with intent to bespeak his master's presence and attention as to some everyday matter. "oh, well, i suppose i must go and see about it," said bayfield, getting up. over the green gold of the hilltops the summer sunlight swept gloriously--and the valley bottom lay in a hot shimmer, but here in the leafy shade it was only warm enough to convey the idea of restful ease. bright butterflies flitted amid the flowers, and the hum of bees mingled with the twittering of noisy finks and the piping of spreuws--not having the fear of fred's air-gun before their eyes--in the bosky recesses of the garden. hilary blachland, lounging there in his cane chair--the very personification of reposeful ease in his cool white attire--was watching the beautiful face opposite, noting every turn of the sweet golden head. there was a difference in lyn, he decided. it was difficult to define it exactly, but the difference was there. was it that something of the old, frank, childlike ingenuousness seemed to have disappeared? "do you remember what we were talking about here, lyn, that evening we got back from the earles'?" he said. "you were wishing that i and your father were partners." "yes. i remember," and the lighting up of her face was not lost upon him. "and you predicted we should soon find you a most desperate bore. see how well i remember the very words." "quite right, little lyn. well, both predictions are going to be fulfilled." "but--how?" "and--i shall be here always, as you were wishing then. are you still pleased, little lyn?" "oh, you know i am." it came out so spontaneously, so whole-heartedly. he went on: "you see that beacon away yonder on top of the _rand_? well, that's my boundary. mine! i'm your next-door neighbour now. your father and i spent three mortal hours this morning haggling with five generations of van aardts, and now that eight thousand morgen is mine. so i shall always be here, as you said then. now i wonder if you will always be as pleased as you are now." so do we, reader, but the conditions of life are desperately uncertain, wherefore who can tell? that it is unsafe to prophesy unless you know, is eke a wise saw, which for present purposes we propose to bear in mind. nevertheless-- the end. twenty-five years in a waggon in south africa, by andrew a. anderson. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ twenty-five years in a waggon in south africa, by andrew a. anderson. preface. my object in writing this work is to add another page to the physical geography of africa. that region selected for my explorations has hitherto been a _terra incognita_ in all maps relating to this dark continent. the field of my labour has been south central africa, north of the cape colony, up to the congo region, comprising an area of , , square miles; in length, from north to south, miles, and from east to west--that is, from the indian to the south atlantic ocean-- miles, which includes the whole of africa from sea to sea, and from the degree to the degree south latitude. it has been my desire to make physical geography a pleasant study to the young, and in gaining this knowledge of a country, they may at the same time become acquainted with its resources and capabilities for future enterprise in commercial pursuits to all who may embark in such undertakings, and this cannot be accomplished without having a full knowledge of the people who inhabit the land; also its geological features, natural history, botany, and other subjects of interest in connection with it. such information is imperative to a commercial nation like great britain, particularly when we look round and see such immense competition in trade with our continental neighbours, necessitates corresponding energy at home if we wish to hold our own in the great markets of the world, and this cannot be done unless the resources and capabilities of every quarter of the globe is thoroughly known. and for this purpose my endeavours have been directed, so far as south central africa is concerned, and to fill up the blank in the physical geography of that portion of the african continent. when i undertook this work in no information could be obtained as to what was beyond our colonial frontier, except that a great part was desert land uninhabited, except in parts by wild bushmen, and the remaining region beyond by lawless tribes of natives. i at once saw there was a great field open for explorations, and i undertook that duty in that year, being strongly impressed with the importance, that eventually it would become (connected as it is with our south african possessions) of the highest value, if in our hands, for the preservation of our african colonies, the extension of our trade, and a great field for civilising and christianising the native races, as also for emigration, which would lead to most important results, in opening up the great high road to central africa, thereby securing to the cape colony and natal a vast increase of trade and an immense opening for the disposal of british merchandise that would otherwise flow into other channels through foreign ports; and, at the same time, knowing how closely connected native territories were to our border, which must affect politically and socially the different nationalities that are so widely spread over all the southern portion of africa. with these advantages to be attained, it was necessary that some step should be taken to explore these regions, open up the country, and correctly delineate its physical features, and, if time permitted, its geological formation also, and other information that could be collected from time to time as i proceeded on my work. such a vast extent of country, containing , , square miles, cannot be thoroughly explored single-handed under many years' labour, neither can so extensive an area be properly or intelligibly described as a whole. i have, therefore, in the first place, before entering upon general subjects, deemed it advisable to describe the several river systems and their basins in connection with the watersheds, as it will greatly facilitate and make more explicit the description given as to the locality of native territories that occupy this interesting and valuable portion of the african continent, in relation to our south african colonies. and, secondly, to describe separately each native state, the latitude and longitude of places, distances, and altitudes above sea-level, including those subjects above referred to. all this may be considered dry reading. i have therefore introduced many incidents that occurred during my travels through the country from time to time. to have enlarged on personal events, such as hunting expeditions, which were of daily occurrence, would have extended this work to an unusual length, therefore i have taken extracts from my journals to make the book, i trust, more interesting, and at the same time make physical geography a pleasant study to the young, who may wish to make themselves acquainted with every part of the globe. this is the first and most important duty to all who are entering into commercial pursuits, for without this knowledge little can be done in extending our commerce to regions at present but little known. my travels and dates are not given consecutively, but each region is separately described, taken from journeys when passing through them in different years. chapter one. in natal--preparing for my long-promised explorations into the far interior. as a colonial, previous to , i had long contemplated making an expedition into the regions north of the cape colony and natal, but not until that year was i able to see my way clear to accomplish it. at that time, , the cape colony was not so well known as it is now, and natal much less; more particularly beyond its northern boundary, over the drakensberg mountains, for few besides the boers had ever penetrated beyond the free state and transvaal; and when on their return journey to maritzburg, to sell their skins and other native produce, i had frequent conversations with them, the result was that nothing was known of the country beyond their limited journeys. this naturally gave me a greater desire to visit the native territories, and, being young and full of energy, wishing for a more active life than farming, although that is active during some part of the year, i arranged my plans and made up my mind to visit these unknown regions, and avail myself of such opportunities as i could spare from time to time to go and explore the interior, and collect such information as might come within my reach, not only for self-gratification, but to obtain a general knowledge of the country that might eventually be of use to others, and so combine pleasure with profit, to pay the necessary expenses of each journey. such were my thoughts at the time, and if i could make what little knowledge i possessed available in pursuing this course, my journeys would not be wasted. my plans at first were very vague, but, eventually, as i proceeded they became more matured, and having a thorough knowledge of colonial life and what was necessary to be done to carry out my wishes, i had little difficulty in getting my things in order. geology was one of my weaknesses, also natural history, which were not forgotten in my preparations. the difficulty was, there were no maps to guide me in the course to take over this wide and unknown region; i therefore determined to add that work also to my duties, and make this a book of reference on the geography of south central africa, and so complete as i went on such parts visited, as time and opportunities permitted, as also a general description of the country, the inhabitants, botany, and other subjects, and incidents that took place on my travels through this interesting and important part of the african continent, and so cool down a little of the superabundant scotch blood that would not let me settle down to a quiet life when there was anything to be done that required action; for we know perfectly well before we enter upon these explorations, that we shall not be living in the lap of luxury, or escape from all the perils that beset a traveller when first entering upon unknown ground--if any of these troubles should enter his mind, he had better stay at home. but, at the same time, it will be necessary to give some idea what an explorer has to undergo in penetrating these regions, and also the pleasures to be derived therefrom. "there is a pleasure in the pathless woods, there is a rapture by the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes by the deep sea, and music in its roar." _byron_. it is a pleasure to be able to ramble unfettered by worldly ambition over a wild and new country, far from civilisation, where the postman's knock is never heard, or shrieking railway-whistles, startling the seven senses out of your poor bewildered brain, and other so-called civilising influences, keeping up a perpetual nervous excitement not conducive to health. a life in the desert is certainly most charming with all its drawbacks, where the mind can have unlimited action. to travel when you please, eat and drink when so inclined, bunt, fish, sketch, explore, read or sleep, as the case may be, without interruption; no laws to curb your actions, or conventional habits to be studied. this is freedom, liberty, independence, in the full sense of the word. with these dreamy thoughts constantly before me, i determined to give such a life a trial; consequently, without more ado, i set to work to provide myself with the necessary means. having heard, when travelling through natal, that the country a few miles beyond the drakensberg mountains was a _terra incognita_, where game could be counted by the million, and the native tribes beyond lived in primitive innocence, i was charmed with the thought of being the first in the field to enjoy nature in all its forms, and bring before me, face to face, a people whose habits, customs, and daily life were the same to-day they were five thousand years ago. what a lesson for man! with what greed i looked upon my probable isolation from the outer world; craving for this visit to the happy hunting-ground. the first thing to be done was to apply to an old friend, living a short distance from maritzburg on a farm, who had been on several hunting expeditions, and returned a few weeks before, with his waggon-load of skins of various animals he had shot with his and his sons' guns, which he spread out before me--one hundred and five--six lions, four leopards, seven otters, eight wolves, fourteen tiger-cats; the remainder made up of gnu, springbok and blesbok, and a variety of other antelopes, all shot within one hundred miles from the northern and western border of natal, over the drakensberg mountains, besides a heap of ostrich feathers of various kinds--a goodly bag of a seven months' trip. the result of my cogitations with him was the procuring of a waggon and fourteen trek oxen, with the usual gear--a horse, saddle and bridle, with all sorts of odds and ends for cooking, water-casks, food of all kinds, flour, biscuits, bread, mealies for the kaffirs, tea, coffee, sugar, preserves, and other necessaries needed for the road. a safe driver and forelooper, and an extra boy to cook and look after the horse, besides three rifles (not breechloaders, they were not known in natal in ) and a double-barrel westley richards, and any quantity of ammunition. these three boys were all zulus, with good characters, therefore could be depended on, which is a great thing. being a "colonial" i was well up to african life and the zulu language-- a great advantage in that country. all things provided, i took several trips round the country in my waggon, up to august , when i started north. _twenty-five years ago!--a quarter of a century_! what changes have come over south africa in that time! natal was little-known and scarcely heard of in england. the white population did not exceed one-half its present number of , , and the greater part was overrun by kaffirs, who were zulus, similar to those of zululand. game of various kinds in plenty, lions were common, elephants, buffaloes, elands, wildebeests, quagga, and other antelopes, were numerous on the plains and long flats; leopards--here called tigers--wolves, jackals, and other beasts of prey, were heard nightly in the bush; and in the open rolling plains, under the drakensberg range of mountains, that flank the western and northern boundary of the colony, springbok and blesbok, quagga and the gnu could be counted in thousands. where are they now? cleared from the face of the earth by the rifle, so that scarcely one is left, and those preserved that they should not be entirely exterminated. beyond that magnificent and grand mountain range that rises in parts ten thousand feet above the sea-level, and extending several hundred miles in length, rearing its noble head far up in the clouds, and looking down as if guarding the beautiful and peaceful natal at its feet. the scenery, especially on the western side, taking in the giant and champagne castle and the lofty peaks to the north, few landscapes on earth can compare with it. here the wild bushmen lived in all their pristine glory; their home--the caves and kloofs in the gorges of mountains--far away from any other tribe, living by their poisoned arrows on game that comes within bowshot, and upon fruits and roots, which will be more particularly described in another chapter. where are they now? much like the game, exterminated by the rifle. they were then a great pest to the colonial people who kept stock near the foot of the mountain, for they would come down, after watching for days, mounted or on foot, and steal the cattle, killing all they could not carry off. these bushmen became such a pest that it was necessary to hunt them down. two forces of a dozen men or more each were sent out under captains allison and giles, and they got on their spoor after they had stolen a number of fine english-bred cattle and horses, many of which when they first escaped to the hills were found killed, when unable to keep up. they tracked these bushmen about on the hills in snow for some days, and at last the two parties met, and just before dark saw the bushmen's fires in caves. the parties slept on the ground, and in the morning saw a bushman come out with a bridle to catch a horse. suddenly, like robinson crusoe, he stood aghast seeing their spoor, threw down his bridle, and bolted to give the alarm. the bushmen fought with their poisoned arrows, and as their sexes could not be distinguished in the bush, as they dress alike, all were killed, except one old woman, shot through the knee, who rode in as if nothing was wrong with her. she was cured, carried near to another tribe and turned out. no other bushmen were ever seen after that in natal. previously one lad was shot through the shoulder and caught. he was never of any service, not even as an after-rider, though a splendid horseman, being quite unteachable. he never attempted to escape to his tribe, though he might easily have done so; and when taken out to track them, and coming on their caves, he broke their pots, a sign of displeasure among kaffirs; and he said all he wanted was, to catch and kill his mother. starting. before starting on my memorable expedition, i procured some sail-cloth, to make a side-tent to my waggon, which formed a very comfortable retreat for my boys on wet nights. my driver, a fine young zulu, could handle an ox-whip and give the professional crack to perfection. if not able to accomplish this feat, they are not considered efficient drivers. his name was panda, after the great zulu chief, and he was from all accounts a descendant of that renowned warrior, his father having fled into natal some time before. he was now working to collect a sufficient number of heifers together to buy his first wife, a young zulu maid living in a large kraal half a mile from his master's farm. the forelooper, one who leads the two front oxen in dangerous places, and looks after the span when in the veldt feeding and assists in inspanning, another fine young zulu about eighteen, a handsome lad, was named shilling. the other and third boy, younger, also a zulu, i named jim, as his other name was too long to use or recollect. after seeing some of my friends and saying good-bye, we make the first afternoon trek over the town hill towards howick, a very steep and stony road, full of ruts made by the heavy rains, and out on the rising ground beyond; where a magnificent view is obtained of the surrounding country and distant hills, of which table mountain, some twenty miles on the east of the city, stands out boldly in the landscape. there are several table mountains in natal, so-called from their flat heads. my object when i commenced this journey was to push on with all speed to the foot of the drakensberg mountains, a distance of over miles, cross the berg at van reenen's pass, and make for harrysmith in the orange free state, then determine where i should commence my journey of exploration. but i did not reach the foot of the mountain until the th of september, , having deviated from the main transport road to visit some farmer friends, and take up one of the sons of an old "colonial," who had lived many years in the country as a stock-farmer, and who offered me his son as a guide, he being well acquainted with the country and people i proposed visiting. as he was a good driver and a good shot, as all colonials are, i was pleased to have his company, and being young, only seventeen, just the age to enjoy a rough and ready kind of life, it suited me exactly, so john talbot was added to my little family. this detained me six days; as his mother wished to bake some biscuits for the road, also bread, and get some butter and other good things, i was quite agreeable to stay and go out with the old man to look up some game also, to supply my larder. so whilst the mother and her pretty daughter of true english blood, a year older than her brother john, were busy in the house, we men were also busy outside with our guns; besides large game, such as elands, koodoo, blesbok and springbok, we had excellent sport with the shot-guns, there being plenty of hares, partridges, pheasants, snipe, and ducks. the farm is situated on the tugela river, and being some two miles from the foot of one of the spurs of the mountain, was out of the way of all traffic, and was as pretty a locality as any one could desire to live in; there was any quantity of fish, consequently there was no lack of fish, flesh, or fowl in this beautiful and quiet retreat. the second morning of my arrival there, mr. talbot and i, after taking coffee, saddled-up, as the sun was just peeping over the distant mountain tops in a blaze of gold and crimson light, with an atmosphere pure and clear, casting a brilliant reflection on all around,--a glorious sight to behold. this part of the world is famed for the lovely and varied tints which the sun produces in the sky in rising and setting, more particularly in the summer, forming celestial landscapes, marvellous to look upon, and grand in the extreme. on leaving the farm-house for our ride into the open plains to see if we could discover some elands, we met a dutchman on horseback, with the usual companion rifle. after the morning greeting and shaking hands, he inquired if we had seen any stray calves about; finding we had not, he suspected the bushmen had been down again from the mountains and had carried off two. he informed us that a neighbour of his, another dutch farmer, a week or so before had lost some sheep, and he had traced them up into a deep kloof of the mountain, and came upon a family of bushmen in the act of driving three of his sheep towards the hills, where he shot the two men and took a woman and two children, and brought them to his farm, making them drive the sheep back with them, and they were at his farm now. wishing to see them, we rode over, a distance of some seven miles, where we found them confined in an outhouse, squatting on the floor, looking anything but amiable; they were poor specimens of humanity. we had them brought out for a closer inspection. the woman was not old or young, of a yellowish-white colour, a few little tufts of wool on the head; eyes she had, but the lids were so closed they were not to be seen, although she could see between them perfectly; no nose, only two orifices, through which she breathed, with thin projecting lips, and sharp chin, with broad cheek-bones, her spine curved in the most extraordinary manner, consequently the stomach protruded in the same proportion, with thin, calfless legs, and with that wonderful formation peculiar to this bushmen tribe, and slightly developed in the hottentot and korannas. the two little girls--the eldest did not seem more than ten or twelve-- were of the same type, the woman measured four feet one inch in height. the old boer wanted to shoot them, but his vrow wished to keep and make servants of them. their language was a succession of clicks with no guttural sound in the throat, like that of the hottentot and koranna tribes, but both languages assimilated so closely that it is clear the hottentot and koranna have partly descended from this pure breed, for a pure breed they are, and may be the remnants of almost a distinct race that lived on the face of this earth in prehistoric ages. the quarter of the globe in which they are found, at the extreme end of a large continent, in a rugged and mountainous country, a locality well adapted to preserve them from utter extinction, may be the cause of their preservation; at any rate, there are no other people in the world like them, and their having a language almost without words except clicks, is a most peculiar feature in connection with this entirely distinct race, and for anthropological science, these people should be preserved, that is the pure breed, unmixed by hottentot or koranna blood. leaving the boer farm, after the usual cup of coffee, we skirted the hills which ran out in grand and lofty spurs, broken here and there by perpendicular cliffs, many hundred feet deep, clothed with subtropical plants and shrubs, with beautiful creepers climbing among the projecting rocks, and hanging in festoons, with crimson and yellow pods, contrasting so beautifully with the rich green around. we reached the head of one of the tugela branches, one of the most picturesque and lovely landscapes i have ever seen in africa. the lofty mountain range, , feet in altitude, forming the background, with their peaked and rugged summits, fading away in the distance to a pale bluish pink tint, with the nearer mountains, and a glimpse of a pretty waterfall, with the richly-wooded foreground and placid stream at our feet, completed a picture seldom to be seen. my friend and host, mr. talbot, proposed a halt at this spot, therefore, selecting a fine clump of trees to be in the shade, for although early in the spring, the sun shining down upon us from a cloudless sky was unusually warm; we were therefore glad to seek the shelter of the trees, off-saddle and knee-halter the horses to feed, whilst we stretched ourselves on the soft young grass to view the scene around and take our lunch. as it was early in the day, we gave the horses a good rest, and then saddled-up for our return journey. there were many small herds of various kinds of antelopes, but too far away to follow. springboks we could shoot, but being so many miles from the farm, we waited until we got within a reasonable distance to carry them on the horses, which as we approached home we had plenty of opportunities of doing, and secured three, two of which i made into biltong for the road. on arriving at the farm, my boy panda showed me a large snake, one of those cobra de capello whose bite is very dangerous, sometimes causing death; it measured five feet in length, and was killed in the house, which was built with poles and reeds, called in the country a hartebeest house, with several outbuildings on the same plan. they are made very comfortable and snug within, but will not keep out snakes; most of the cooking is done out of doors, where a fire is constantly burning: early coffee about six, breakfast at eight, dinner at one, and supper at sundown. this is the general custom on the farms. after an outing of nearly twenty miles, we enjoyed our dinner of baked venison of eland, with stewed peaches to follow, and good home-baked bread. as lions were very plentiful, as also wolves and leopards, the farmers had to make secure kraals for their cattle, sheep, and goats; the horses were kept in sheds; and with these precautions it not unfrequently occurred that a leopard, which out here is called a tiger, leaped the enclosure and carried off a goat or sheep. a few weeks before my arrival here, some wolves and hyenas broke into the sheep-kraal, killing seven, carrying three half a mile away, where their remains were found next morning. they make these attacks mostly on dark and stormy nights, when it is difficult to hear any noise when shut in the house. the next day my host, his son john, and myself, after breakfast saddled-up, and with our rifles, started for the native location, which is an extensive tract of country under the foot of the berg, occupied by the zulus, who have large kraals and plenty of cattle, in order to buy some young bullocks to break in for trek oxen. visiting some on our way, at one of which we off-saddled to rest, the kaffirs coming out to stare as usual, the young intombes (kaffir maids), like their white sisters, curious to see the strangers, came to look also. john and his father being well known to them, we were asked in to have some kaffir beer. some of the girls were very pretty, and we told them so, which they took as a matter of course, and came forward that we might have a better look at them, and seemed pleased to be admired. beautifully formed, with expressive countenances, tall, and carrying themselves as well as if they had been drilled under a professional; their constant habit of carrying heavy kaffir pots of water, which can only be done by walking erect, has produced this effect. one young kaffir was very busy making a hut for himself, as he was going to be married. the care and attention he displayed on its erection, and the ingenuity with which he interweaved each green stick, which was tied with thin slips of skin, was most interesting, and he seemed quite proud when praised for his good workmanship. one of the girls was pointed out to us as his wife that was to be, a fine good-looking girl about seventeen, ornamented with plenty of brass bracelets and beads, the present of her _fiance_. they are not encumbered with much clothing, being in a state of nature with the exception of an apology for an apron, or frequently only a string of beads, two or three inches long. their huts and enclosures are kept clean and neat, and in every respect as far as order and quietness are concerned, the zulus may set an example to many white towns. after purchasing a few kaffir sheep, we returned to the farm. the rd of september, a lovely bright morning, two beautiful secretary-birds came walking close past the farm,--they are preserved for the good they do in killing snakes, therefore a heavy fine is set upon any one shooting them; they are similar in shape to the crane, but much larger, with long and powerful legs. it is strange to see them kill a snake; one would think that with their strong horny legs and beaks, they need only tread on and kill him with their beaks, but they are evidently afraid to do this. they dart into the air and pound down violently upon him with their feet until he is dead. shortly after breakfast, a zulu girl came for work; she had run away from her father's kraal, to escape being married to an old zulu induna, living on the bushman river, and had walked nearly forty miles across the country to mrs. talbot's to escape the match. she told, when pressed, that her father wanted to sell her for twenty heifers to the old man, and she did not like it, as she liked a young zulu, therefore she fled from the kraal the previous day, and had walked that distance without food, avoiding other kraals, fearing the people, if they saw her, would send her back, and she begged the "misses" would let her stop and work for her. she was a very fine young girl, apparently about seventeen, tall, and well-made, and very good-looking, without ornaments or anything on her in the way of clothes. the "misses" soon found an old garment to cover her nakedness. poor girl, she is not devoid of affection, as this action of hers shows. i fear there are many similarly situated, both white and black. so mrs. talbot had compassion and employed her, and she turned out a very good and useful help. the zulu war was caused by a similar occurrence, two girls having taken refuge in natal, whence they were fetched out and killed by the zulus, who refused to give up the murderers. some few days after, we were all sitting under the shade of the trees close to the house, taking coffee, when four young zulu girls came, each carrying a bowl on her head, full of maize, to exchange for beads and brass wire to make bracelets, as all outlying farmers keep such things for payment. their ages might be about fifteen. one of them had her woolly hair in long ringlets all over her head, and seemed to be a born flirt, her manner was so coquettish; all of them were very good-looking, as most of them are when young. i told them if they would give us a dance, i would present each with a kerchief. this gave much satisfaction, and they commenced their zulu dances, singing, laughing, and playing tricks, in their native way. when it was over the kerchiefs were given, which they fastened turban fashion round their heads, then marched up and down, much pleased with their appearance, showing they are not devoid of vanity. savage or civilised, woman is woman all over the world. most of the kaffirs living in natal belong to the amalimga zulus, those in zululand to the amazulu family. sixty years ago there were cannibals in natal, in the mountains. i was shown the spot and tree, by an old zulu, where the last man was cooked and eaten. at that time the country was infested with hordes of wild bushmen, of the type before described, who had their stronghold in those grand old mountains that skirt the northern and western boundary of this fair and beautiful little colony--the cannibals were not bushmen; and also with wandering tribes of the amagalekas, amabaces, amapondas, many of them travelling west, and who settled on the unzimvobo river, and along the coast in tambookie and other districts, and remained in a wild and savage state up to within thirty years of the present time; then it was a howling wilderness, swarming with lions, leopards, wolves, and other beasts of prey; only a few years ago lions were very numerous. the landlord of the royal hotel at durban told me a lion came into his yard in the daytime, leaped into an open window and seized upon a fine hot sirloin of beef that was on the table with other good things prepared for a dinner-party, and quietly walked off with it. at the present time ( ) up in these parts they are to be seen daily, and great care is required to preserve the oxen and other animals from falling a prey to their nightly visits. only three weeks back a farmer on the tugela had one of his horses killed and partly eaten before morning. the horse was made fast in a shed, a short distance from the house; it appears there were several lions from the number of footprints to be seen in the morning. the kaffirs forgot to fasten the door at night. almost every evening we hear them. a lion in a dog-cart. as an instance of their boldness at times, for, generally speaking, they are cowardly, the following was related by mr. botha, a respectable, educated boer farmer, and is quite true. it happened to his uncle. "_journal_.--apes river, between pretoria and waterborg. arrived at the outspan, remained until next night at twelve, then started the waggon off on the springbok flats (twenty miles without water). the party consisted of l. botha, p. venter, and the servants, one waggon with span of sixteen oxen, one cart and two horses. venter and botha remained at the outspan place with the cart and horses and a bastard hottentot boy called mark, twelve years old. "the waggon had been gone half-an-hour when they heard the rattling of wheels in a manner which made them think that the oxen must have had a `scrick' (scare) from a lion, as that place is full of them. mark, who was sleeping alongside the fire, was called up to bring the horses. the lazy fellows there won't do anything themselves, not even when there is a `scrick' from a lion. they were soon going to render assistance to the waggon, going at a jog trot (even then they did not hurry), when mark, who was on the front seat, called out, `baas, de esel byt de paarde' (`the donkey bites the horse'), and immediately the cart stopped, and a lion was seen clasped round the fore-quarters of the favourite horse. before the gun was taken up, down went the horse; meanwhile the gun was levelled at the lion, but the cap missed. another was searched for, but it would not fit, as it was small and the nipple a large military one (so like a boer!). the lion now was making his meal off the horse, lying at his ease alongside the splash-board, eating the hind-quarter, botha trying to split a cap to make it fit in vain; so venter took the gun, and botha made up powder with spittle to make it stick, and venter was to take aim and botha to do the firing with a match. just as it ignited, the lion sprang right into the cart between them, and gave venter a wound on the head and scratched his hand with his claw, and bit off a piece of the railing, sending the gun and mark spinning out of the cart, and with that force that the lion fell down behind the cart. he then came round, as fast as he could, on to the dead horse, and continued his feed; but, not in the same cool manner, but making a growling, like a cat with meat when a dog is near, and now and then giving an awful roar, which made the cart, men, and all shake again. the other horse, which is a miracle, stood quite still, never attempting to budge an inch. after the lion had fed he went away, and botha got out, intending to unharness the remaining horse, but no sooner was he on the ground than he heard the lion coming on again at full speed. he threw himself into the cart, and the lion stopped in front of the living horse, which tried to escape but was held fast by the pole-chain after breaking the swingle-trees. the lion gave one jump on to the horse, and with one bite behind the ears killed him. botha was lying on the front seat, with his legs hanging down alongside the splash-board, when the lion came and licked the sweat of his horse off his trousers, but did not bite, botha remaining quite still, which was the only chance, in the dog-cart from ten o'clock, when first attacked, until near daybreak, when the lion left; you may imagine what botha felt as he looked at his two valuable hunters. soon a waggon came along and took on the cart, when their driver told them that, soon after he left, suddenly the oxen bolted for some distance, but luckily in the track, by the driver cracking his whip on both sides of them, which, no doubt, kept off the lion also, who was galloping alongside." this is a most remarkable case of boldness in a lion, when not wounded. the south african lions are not nearly so fierce and plucky as the syrian, and they are often very cowardly. a hottentot relates that he once came on a lion asleep, and put his elephant "roer" at his ear, when before he fired, he heard klop! klop! and the bullet, which had been secured only by a loose paper wad, rolled down and dropped into the lion's ear, who jumped up and bolted! there are a few herds of buffaloes in the bush, but they are very wild and dangerous to approach, having been so much hunted. i have seen them tamed and inspanned with oxen. elephants are seen no more in natal. the berea, near durban, which is an extensive bush country, was a favourite resort for them, and the hippopotamus is becoming extinct in the rivers. there are five preserved in the umgeni river near durban, off a sugar estate; one had disappeared for some time, and then came back with a calf. this "hero" must have swum miles by sea into the zulu country after her leander. there are also a few in the upper umgeni, near maritzburg. i have been told by many zulus that they have seen them leave a river, go out to sea and follow the coast down until they arrive at another river and enter it, and some of the old settlers have confirmed it. the coast is much more tropical than the up-country. fruits, such as guava, citron, lime, tamarind, loquat, lemon, orange, banana, pineapple, figs, grow to perfection. also peaches, and apples, and every kind of european vegetable. the coast is favourable for sugar, tea, coffee, tobacco, indigo, arrowroot, ginger, all kinds of spices, and the cotton-plant has just been introduced on the coast, but it failed, owing to the aphis fly; the castor-oil plant and the aloe grow to a great size. there is also some very fine timber, particularly in the kloofs amongst the hills. coal, in seams eleven feet thick, exists in the newcastle district, as the name denotes. iron abounds all over the colony. altogether, natal is a very pleasant colony to settle in; the climate is everything that can be wished. the two principal drawbacks are the annual grass-fires, destroying everything as they sweep over the country, killing all young forest trees, and making the grass of a coarser texture; and there are sometimes many months of drought. but these are not confined to natal; the same drawbacks pervade every part of south africa, even up to the zambese, and the long drought that lasts for months is more common towards the western portion of the continent than it is on the east coast. the summer being the rainy season makes it pleasant, though the lightning is terrible, and dangerous to a degree which, perhaps, does not exist anywhere else. the most dangerous are the dry storms. chapter two. my first start across the drakensberg mountains--visit harrysmith, wakkerstroom, utrich, newcastle, home. early in the morning of the fourth found me ready for a start for a four months' trip before plunging into the unknown land. my little expedition consisted of a waggon and fourteen trek oxen, a young four-year-old natal horse, my driver and two zulu boys, myself and young talbot, well provisioned for my journey. leaving my kind friends, i took the road to ladysmith, but turned off to the left before reaching that town, and took the transport road, leading to harrysmith in the free state, over the mountain, passing up by van reenen's pass, a very steep and long hill, the altitude being feet above sea-level, and arrived at harrysmith on the th of september, , where i outspanned close to the town. the country along the whole distance up to the berg is very pretty and picturesque. from the base of the berg to the summit the distance is about five miles, with a rise of feet, that being the difference in the altitude between the upper or northern part of natal and the orange free state, consequently being so much higher and open, makes the winter much colder. from this elevation, and looking back upon natal, a more lovely or extensive landscape can scarcely be imagined. to the right and left huge rocks stand out on the rugged summits in those grotesque forms from which descend perpendicular cliffs and deep kloofs clothed in subtropical vegetation, between which long spurs of the mountain are thrown out, terminating in rolling plains and beyond lofty hills and deep valleys. far away, on the right, continues the drakensberg, with its lofty and noble peaks rearing their heads far into the clouds that hang on their summits in loving embrace, until they are lost to view in the pale tints of the evening sky, leaving the central view open to the sea, miles to the coast, where the bluff at port durban can be distinguished overlooking the intervening country with its plains and hills. it was here, at the bushman's pass, feet high, that the sad affair with langalibalele's tribe occurred. a number of them had been at the diamond-fields, where they had procured guns for wages. no kaffirs in natal are allowed to have guns, except a few hundred, by special licence, and the sale of gunpowder is all in the hands of the government, white men even not being allowed more than ten pounds a year, and they cannot import guns without a special permission from the government. the entire immunity of natal, from its first annexation, from kaffir wars, which have caused so much waste of blood and treasure at the cape, is owing chiefly to this wise law, which is so rigidly enforced that a number of guns were seized which had been made in natal, at a cost of pounds shillings each. the barrels were gas-pipes, whilst good muskets could have been imported at shillings each. all the cape wars have been caused by the omission of this simple precaution. the natal border zulu chief langalibalele had been a rebel from his youth upwards. he rebelled against panda, the zulu king, and barely escaped into natal with a few followers, leaving all his cattle behind. shortly after he returned, killed the keepers of the cattle, and took them into natal. there he was given about the best "location" on the beautiful spot here described in the drakensberg. many refugees from zululand joined him, and his tribe became powerful. but they were always restless and contumacious. at last about of them brought back from the diamond-fields the guns which they had received for wages, and when called upon to give them up refused to do so, or even--as subsequently allowed--to send them in to be registered, and they insulted the messengers sent by the government. a force was consequently marched into the location, and as the whole tribe was about to depart into the zulu country with the cattle, a proceeding which was against all kaffir law, the passes of the mountains were occupied, to prevent their escape, by volunteers, and the soldiers were kept below. to the bushman's pass a force of about twenty of the natal carbineers (cavalry) was sent up. the pass, feet high, was so steep that they could not ride, but had to lead their horses, in doing which colonel durnford (killed at isandhlwana), who commanded the party, was pulled down a rock by his horse, and his shoulder dislocated. it was pulled in at once, but being a delicate man the pain and fatigue overcame him entirely, and he was obliged to remain behind, while the rest went on and bivouacked on the pass. during the night, young robert erskine, son of the colonial secretary, went down twice to his assistance, taking brandy, etc., and eventually he got him on to his horse and up to his men. early next morning a part of the tribe, with the cattle, came up, the rest having passed before, and occupied the rocks around, being armed with guns. unfortunately, the governor of natal had got it into his head that he was a born soldier, and had accompanied the soldiers who were below. as the captain of the volunteers knew no drill, and could not move the men, the governor--who was weakly allowed by the colonel in command to dictate--sent major durnford, an engineer--who knew no more than the captain about manoeuvring men--in command, and to this folly added a mad injunction "not to fire first!" in obedience to which durnford allowed the tribe to keep coming up. erskine, who had been private secretary to the former governor, and who knew the tribe well, having lived among them sketching, and having had twenty-five of them working for him at the diamond-fields, offered to go down the pass and remonstrate with the chiefs who were below. major durnford would not allow it, saying that he had saved his life, and it was certain death. the tribe kept coming up and lining the rocks, calling out, "you'll never see your mother again! that's my horse! that's my saddle!" etc. at last a cowardly fellow, a drill-sergeant, formerly in the cape mounted rifles, who had been allowed to join the force as dry-nurse, persuaded the men that they would all be killed, and they sent their captain to durnford to say so, and that as he would not allow them to fire they would not stay. on which durnford called out, "will nobody stand by me?" when erskine said, "i will, major," and another, bond, said so, as also did one more. durnford then said, "if you will not stand by me you must go;" and not knowing the cavalry word, the drill-sergeant gave the word, "fours right! right wheel! walk! march!" as they filed past the rocks, the zulu in command called, "don't fire until they have passed," and they then fired and shot down the whole rear section, and the rest galloped off, except durnford, who was drinking at the source of the orange river. his bridle was seized by two zulus, and one wounded him in the shoulder. although one arm was disabled, with the other he shot them both, and escaped. at the same time the kaffir interpreter, who fought gallantly, was killed, and erskine also, whose horse was shot down, was shot through the head and heart, in the source of the orange river. one of the four, whose horse had been shot down, caught erskine's horse, which had got up again, and escaped on him for a space. the horse then fell dead, and two of the men dismounted and covered him, shooting some of the zulus who were coming on. he caught durnford's spare horse running by, and after some delay and danger from a shower of bullets, succeeded in getting erskine's saddle on to the horse, and escaped. durnford tried in vain to rally the men, and they went helter-skelter down the pass, the captain--afraid to ride down--being sledged down on his stern. the bodies were allowed to remain there several days, although there was not a zulu near, and then they were buried by durnford under a large cairn, erected with rocks, interspersed with the beautiful heaths and flora growing around. erskine's body was found in the source itself of the orange river. the people erected a handsome monument to their memory in the market-square at maritzburg, and another to those who fell at isandhlwana--about thirty. thus, out of a troop of fifty, thirty-three of the natal volunteer carbineers fell in these two affairs owing, on both occasions, to the grossest mismanagement. _ne sutor ultra crepidam_! the tribe was afterwards hunted for two months in these mountains by volunteers only, and captured with their chief, langalibalele, who was sent to the cape, and kept more comfortably than he ever was in his life, in a nice house and grounds, with entire freedom to move about, his only grievance being that he was not allowed more than three of his wives, the cause of this distressing privation being simply that the balance would not come. an absurd proposition was sent out by the home government lately that he should be allowed to return to natal, but it was promptly quashed by that government. _coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt_, as was proved in the case of cetewayo's restoration, "who had learnt and forgotten nothing." this, if it can be called one, is the only rebellion ever known, or likely to be known, in natal, where the kaffirs are thoroughly loyal. shortly before this a little raid was made into natal by one of moshesh's sons, when two natives were killed and some cattle lifted. a force was sent up, too late, and _en route_ the colonial secretary and secretary for native affairs, who were sitting in a waggon, were watching a tribe, when they diverted, and forming regularly into line their orator ran out, and running as they do up and down made an oration, "there's the government in the waggon! what's the meaning of this? why is this land invaded? why are our people killed and our cattle stolen? why were we not called out sooner? was it that we are not trusted? wow!! there sit under that waggon langalibalele's people! who are they? dogs! that we used to hunt down; and would again, if not prevented by the government." sir t. shepstone did not even condescend to address them himself, but in a few words, through an interpreter, told them they were quite loyal, had the approval of the great queen, and could _pass on_, which they did, moving off by companies from the right, like soldiers, and singing a war song, making the earth tremble with their stamping. [on such occasions extraordinary licence of speech is allowed by the zulus.] all these tribes would fight well for us _at first_ if there were to be a rising outside, but after a bit they would join their own kind, as they both feel and say that white and black blood can never mingle because we despise them. the great change in climate and vegetation is very perceptible on leaving fair natal for the cold, dreary, open, and inhospitable free state. harrysmith, in , was a poor, dull, sleepy town, only supported and kept alive by a few transport riders on their way to the transvaal and the small villages of the free state. but after the annexation of the former state by the british government in , it soon became a town of importance, and being on the main road from natal, large and well-built stores, houses, churches, and schools soon put life into its inhabitants. thanks to british gold for turning a howling wilderness into a land of promise! i remained two days to gain news and information about the locality, and the various roads to the north; game being plentiful in all directions, principally blesbok and springbok, wildebeest or gnu, quaggas, hartebeest, and others. the ostrich was also plentiful. i decided to follow the game up, taking the advice of my natal friend, who had recently returned from his shooting excursion. i took the road leading east, and less frequented than the others, which eventually leads to the newly-formed town of wakkerstroom, on the eastern border of the transvaal, and also north from that town to lydenburg, now the gold centre. anxious to make the most of my time, as i had to return to natal before starting on my grand explorations to obtain a fresh driver and two kaffirs, i was constantly in the saddle after anything that crossed my path, travelling slowly on, shooting as much game as we required for the road. to shoot more would be mere waste, although the boers make a practice of killing as many as they can for the sake of the skins, leaving the dead animals to be devoured by lions, wolves, or any other animal. one night, as we were outspanned on the bank of a dry sluit, close to a small but thickly wooded koppie (hill) and large blocks of stone, we were disturbed by hearing the roar of two or more lions, within a very short distance of our camp. not having made any preparation to receive visitors of this kind, we were all soon on our feet with rifles. the fire had gone out, but the stars gave some little light, sufficient to see all safe, particularly my horse. we were all on the watch, peering into the darkness, when we saw two lions cross over from the opposite bank and enter the near koppie. i was told before starting, by several old hunters, never to shoot at a lion when near, if it can be avoided, unless certain of killing; for if only wounded he would attack before you could reload. our anxiety was for the safety of our oxen and horse, fearing they might get away and be caught by the lions. i made the two kaffirs collect a few sticks, and with what was left from last night made a fire, which threw a light into the bushes, where we saw our two friends enter, and shortly after i saw a pair of eyes shining like fire from out of the wood within thirty yards. if i could have depended on my kaffirs, all being armed, he would certainly have had the contents of my rifle, but knowing them to be bad shots when cool, and that they would have been worse than useless in time of danger, to my great disgust was i obliged to stand and watch only. as they left the koppie, they made a circuit of my camp, but at a greater distance. taking the two rifles from the young kaffirs, placing them against the fore-wheel of the waggon, to be ready at a moment's notice, i could not resist so fine a chance of a shot in the open, only fifty yards distant; the light of the fire giving out a good glare, i had a full view, and fired, and found i had wounded one--the thud of the bullet is sufficient to know that. my driver, a fine zulu, and young talbot, had their rifles ready in case he charged, which he did, in short bounds. as he neared, they both fired and both hit, but not sufficiently to kill him; but he was unable to move, as his hind-quarters were rendered powerless. reloading, we walked up, and i gave him a bullet as near the heart as i could, when he fell over; the other we saw moving away into the darkness--a fine full-grown lion with dark mane. this was the third lion that had fallen by my rifle. the little affair detained us the following day, skinning and pegging out to dry in the sun, in addition to several other skins of the game shot on the road, eleven in all. when a skin is taken from an animal, i sprinkle a little salt over it, then roll it up, to be pegged out at a convenient opportunity. the next day we made a fresh move towards a lofty isolated hill in the free state, which we reached in two inspans, and crossing a stony sluit, outspanned under a few trees, close to some very ancient stone walls built without mortar. they were square and some twelve feet high. the open plains were full of game of many kinds. wishing to explore this hill, early in the morning after coffee i took my rifle to climb to the topmost ridge, letting john have the horse to get a springbok. after rambling about the hill, scanning the country all round, i was coming down when i nearly stumbled on a wolf (hyena), which must have been asleep amongst the stones. i was within twenty feet when i fired, killing him at once. not far away were two large black eagles; the report of the rifle seat them soaring away into space. about half-way down the hill i saw two stones that had evidently been cut into shape by a mason; they looked like coping-stones, with well-marked lines, and perfectly square. i took their measure and a sketch of each, both of them exactly a foot in length and six inches wide. they evidently belonged to some ancient building, but when? is a question not so easily solved. but other stone huts two days' trek beyond were clearly erected by a race long since passed away; they were circular, with circular stone roofs, and nearly two feet thick, of partly hewn stone, beautifully made; a stone door with lintels, sills, and door-plates. kaffirs have never been known to build in this way. between each hut there was a straight stone wall, five feet in height, with doorways and lintels, communicating with each square enclosure, perfect specimens of art. they were, i believe, erected by the same people who worked the gold-mines, the remains of which we frequently find in the transvaal and the matabele, and beyond, where so many of their forts still remain. in the marico district there are two extensive remains of these stone towns, which must, from their extent, have occupied many years to complete. the outer wall that encloses the whole is six feet thick, and at the present time five feet high. several large trees are growing out and through the roof of some of them. they are how the abode of the leopard, jackal, and wolf, and so hidden by bush they, are not seen until you are close upon them. broken pieces of pottery are the only things i have discovered. the present natives know nothing of them; they are shrouded in mystery. many remains of old walls are standing, showing that at one time this upper part of the free state must have been thickly populated. at this outspan i killed a yellow snake, three feet in length, with _four legs_, but not made for locomotion. i heard there were such in natal, but this is the first i have seen. when he found he could not make his escape, he curled himself into a circle, with his head raised to strike similar to other snakes. i consigned him to a bottle of spirits. i also shot one of those beautiful blue jays, as there were many in this district. i pass over my shooting exploits, as there is nothing worth recording, each daily trek being almost a repetition of the last, until we arrive in sight of wakkerstroom, a poor village, a few houses, flat roofs, single floors, built in an open country near a lofty hill, which stands on the main road from natal to lydenburg; we remained only a few days, then went north, as far as lake crissie, an open piece of water, no trees or bushes near; a solitary sea-cow is the only occupant of this dismal-looking place. in this district the vaal river rises, and many small branches meet, until the veritable river is formed. the elevation at the lake was feet, and on a hill a few miles north i found the altitude above sea-level to be feet, an open grass undulating country as far as the eye could see, except on the east, where the mountain range that forms the quathlamba is seen in the distance. i retraced part of the road, and turned south-east, over the hills leading to where lunenburg now stands, and on towards swaziland, which is an independent native territory, thickly populated and very mountainous; there are rich gold-mines there now, and some of the mountains attain an altitude of feet. the greater part of the summer months, a mist envelops the hills, but it is a very healthy part of africa, and horse sickness is rarely known to exist, consequently many horses are bred here. passing kruger's post, through buffel forest, which is hilly, and splendid timber trees cover the entire country, the scenery is grand and wild; quartz reefs crop out in all directions, sandstone, shale, and in some places limestone overlap the granite formation, which compose these lofty ridges of the drakensberg; shale, which indicates the existence of coal, is frequently seen in the valleys, and along the pongola river and its several branches. i left harrysmith on the th september, , arriving on the banks of the pongola river on the th october. in that time i had treked miles, being delayed on the road shooting and exploring. the people at wakkerstroom wanted to know what i was doing in the country, as i did not handel (trade), and was not a smouser, the term applied to those who went about the country in waggons to sell and buy. they would not believe i came into the country for pleasure and to shoot, but i was set down as an english spy, as i took notes and made sketches of the country. when i showed them a small drawing of the town with the hill at the backhand people walking about, they held it upside down, and said it was _mooi_ (pretty). most of the boers are very slow in comprehending anything, the women are much quicker, and turned the picture round, and knew it at once, as also some kaffir girls, pointing to the figures, naming whom they represented with expressions of delight. some of the girls seem to have a natural gift for drawing and the beauties of nature, pointing out with their finger various objects, and explaining to those around what the drawing represented. i have often thought that many of these bright kaffir girls might make good artists with proper training. mrs. colenso taught some to draw, paint, and play and sing. when they were about sixteen their father came for them, and they, quite delighted, ran off, stripped off their clothes, and went off naked, and never returned, just like some wild pigeons i had once tamed. they are also quite alive to the ridiculous: in the sketch were two horses playing, one standing with his fore-feet in the air; this caught their attention at once, causing great amusement, and imitating their action. they belonged to the mantatees or mahowas tribe, which is divided into many kraals under various chiefs, all subject to the head chief secocoene, who lives on the north of lydenburg. the pongola skirts the swazi, or, as it is sometimes called, the amaswasiland, a very mountainous country; the people are zulus, their habits and mode of fighting being the same. many of these people came to my waggon with milk, which i took in exchange for tobacco and beads. the men are a fine manly race, and the women, many of them, good-looking, but very scanty in their dress, which is only a little strip of beads an inch wide. the swazi country is situated between the eastern boundary of the transvaal and the amatonga, which is the northern part of zululand, up to the portuguese settlement in delagoa bay on the east side. it is governed by an independent chief, their laws and language being the same as the zulus. the country has every indication of being rich in gold, some specimens of quartz i obtained from reefs running through the country looked very promising. the pongola bush, as it is called, is a beautiful forest of fine timber trees. some of the most valuable are the bosch gorrah, of a scarlet colour, fine grain; ebenhout, a sort of ebony; borrie yellow, bockenhout, no regular grain; assagaai, used for spear handles; wild almond, grelhout, saffraan, stinkwood, speckerhout, wild fig, umghu, witgatboom, tambooti; white ironwood, very hard, and many others of great use for many purposes. the pongola river is very pretty; passing down through a richly-wooded district, with its tributaries, flowing east and then north it joins the beautiful river usutu, which enters the south side of delagoa bay. the usutu river drains the greater portion of the amaswasiland with its many branches; it rises on the east side of the veldt and randsberg, that is the continuation of the watershed from natal, already described, which separates the waters of the south atlantic and the indian ocean, some of the springs of the usutu rising within a few miles of the upper springs of the vaal, near lake crissie. the principal tributaries of the former river are the umtaloos, lobombo, assagaai, impeloose, umkonto, and umkompies, all uniting in the swazi country; then it flows east, through a beautiful break in the lobombo mountains, and enters delagoa bay, as before described. for beauty of scenery and picturesque views, with the deep glens, ravines, and thickly wooded kloofs of every variety of tint, few views in africa will surpass them, and some day, when the country is prospected, if the swazis will permit it, i believe it will be found to be a rich gold-bearing country, both alluvial and in the quartz. i went several times into the river-beds to prospect, the natives following me, watching my actions, but of course not knowing what i was looking for. as the time was drawing short i left the pongola, and treked down to eland's neck, where the country was more open, and on a small branch of that river, close to a very pretty waterfall, are many fine tree-ferns, that grow to a great size. here we were again in the clouds on the elandsberg, at an elevation of feet, and overlooking zululand, with the distant mountain in the background. with my boys to feed--and no small quantity satisfies them--the rifles were in constant use, and in an unknown country it is never safe to go any distance from the waggon without one. the zulus have no other weapons than the assagai or knobkerrie. wolves were nightly visitors; several we shot, but not a lion was to be seen or heard. there were many leopards and panthers in the mountains, but they did not trouble us. my driver being a zulu as well as the other boys, i got on very well with the people at the kraals i passed, and the girls came without any fear. in fact we always got on well with them, having provided myself with brass wire and beads, the principal articles in demand, as clothes they do not wear. they are exceedingly clean in their persons, and very fond of bathing. one afternoon i saddled-up, and started for the open to get a buck. passing through the bush to the river, i came upon nearly fifty black women bathing in the stream. some scampered out on the other side, then stood and looked at the white man; the greater number kept in the water splashing about, for it was not deep enough to swim, and laughing and cheering, showing their beautiful white teeth, not in the least afraid. it is true i had been nearly a week outspanned near their two separate kraals, and they were daily at my waggon with milk, so that i was to a certain extent known to them, few white men being seen down so far in that part of zululand. _november th_.--it was time to make a move homewards. i therefore prepared for a start, and the following morning took the road towards natal, stopping at deepkloof on my way, leaving on the right some very picturesque and lofty hills; not a farm-house to be seen. having shot plenty of game for the road to last many days, by turning it into biltong, pushed on early the next morning, passing down one of the most stony and difficult passes to be met with in africa, running against trees, which had to be cut down, breaking one of the oxen's horns, which had got fixed in the branches of a tree, and with difficulty i saved the waggon from being smashed. the view from this hill, looking west, was very fine, an open plain beneath us with lofty hills on the right and left, open to the south and west, where a distant view of the lofty peaks of the drakensberg could be seen; the distance in a straight line being over eighty miles; so clear is the atmosphere they did not seem more than half that distance. the next day about noon i came to a boer farm, where we procured some milk, a little butter, and some meal. the comfortless manner in which these people live is surprising, and the dirt displayed about the premises would shock many a poor labourer at home. the old boer asked, which is always the first question put after shaking hands, "what's your name? where from? what have i up to handel (sell)?" after replying, "then what's the news?" this is the usual salutation at every boer farm, and considering their isolation, a very practical one. coffee is then handed round, and the tobacco-bag produced, to fill your pipe, as a matter of course. the old boer complained sadly of the heavy storms that had passed over the country, and loss of cattle from lightning, the old vrow putting in a word occasionally; their three buxom daughters sat on boxes, looking at the stranger as if he were some unknown kind of animal from a strange land. we crossed a small branch of the buffalo river, leaving the belslaberg mountains, covered with bush, on our right. at the back of this range is a mineral spring on the white river, which is a tributary of the pongola, the water being warm when it issues from the ground. on the morning of the th of december, , i started for natal, on my backward journey, and treked over an open country in two inspans, and arrived in the evening on the banks of the buffalo river, which divides natal from the zulu country, and outspanned for the night, as i never travel after dark for two reasons: the first, i cannot see the country, and the second, that i always meet with some accident in travelling a road not known--breaking desselboom, axle, or some part of the waggon, sticking in mud-holes that would be avoided in daylight. the buffalo is a fine stream, rising in the drakensberg, passing the town of wakkerstroom, and falling into the tugela twenty miles below the town of weenen, where it forms a broad stream to the sea, dividing zululand from natal. at the outspan there was a boer with his waggon waiting to go through, the water being too high to cross; but it was going down, having risen from the heavy rains, and an accident having happened to his waggon by the bullocks turning round when treking in the night, from fright probably by a wild beast, and breaking the desselboom; but on my arrival i found the young boer and his vrow sitting by their camp-fire, taking their evening coffee, and after the usual shaking of hands was asked to sit, and a bushman girl was told to give me a cup of coffee; afterwards, of course, a smoke. having made my waggon ready for the night, and looked after the boys and oxen, i took my evening meal with john; then walked over to the boer waggon for a chat, where we remained until bed-time, which was nine o'clock. sitting listening to the boer's various tales of zulu fighting, and hunting, and other anecdotes, i found he lived on a farm some little distance beyond this outspan; his name was uys, rather a pleasant kind of man for his class. probably the father of piet uys, the hero of the zulu war. the next morning at sunrise i had a look at the river, which was not much lower; but an exciting scene was taking place; a flock of about sheep was being swum through, which occupied all the first part of the morning. i was astonished to see how well they took to the water when they were in, the difficulty lay in getting them in: some would turn back, others go down the river; what with the bleating of the sheep, the shouting of a dozen kaffir boys and their two boer masters making a perfect din of sounds; however, with only the loss of two sheep, they got them safely over, and as the water was falling fast, everything was made ready to cross. my friend uys took the lead. the banks on both sides being very steep, the breaks had to be screwed home to bring the waggons safely down to the water. each waggon had a forelooper, a kaffir, to take the fore-tow of the front oxen to keep them straight towards the opposite drift, otherwise they might take it into their heads to go down stream, and all would be lost. on his return from one of his expeditions on the east coast, mr. st. vincent erskine, the traveller, on reaching natal bought a horse, and as he had to swim several rivers he put his journal for safety into a waggon. it was carried down a river, the oxen and a white girl lost, and his journal. long searches were made for it by numbers of kaffirs, when the river went down, in vain. _two years_ afterwards it was found in its tin case, quite legible, being in pencil. it was in a bush so far above the river that no one had thought of looking for it. we reached the bank safely on the opposite side, which is natal, and treked on in a westerly course for a few miles, where we outspanned, and then went on again for a long trek, as there was nothing further to delay us, and the next day we continued on to a very pretty opening, close to the river ineandu; the lofty drakensberg range on our right, with its beautiful rugged outline, and deep kloofs, was grand to look upon. game was more plentiful here than we had seen for some time, and we also found lions were not wanting to keep up the excitement during the night-watch. as we arrived late, there was nothing to do but have our fires, cook some tea and a slice of a young springbok over the red embers, with a little salt, mustard, and pepper,--a supper not to be cast on one side. we were rightly informed, and cautioned not to let the oxen and horse stray in the bush, but kept them near and in sight, for lions had considerably increased of late and had done much damage in carrying off oxen when out in the veldt. mr. evans, the merchant, once saw forty all together. we therefore made everything fast before going to sleep, and collected wood for fires, if it were necessary to light them during the night. my horse would have been a great loss; he was excellent when out after game, for, on dismounting and throwing the rein over his head to hang on the ground, he would not move from the spot until you returned from following up game where a horse could not go. as there was no moon the night was getting dark, and while we were sitting round the camp-fire, listening to the boys' tales of some hunting expeditions they had been in, we were reminded that our friends the lions were not far away. in the stillness of night, when all is silent, the sounds made by a lion close at hand in a thick bush surrounding the camp, the deep tones of his growls, make every one start, and look around to see if all is safe, and put more wood on the fires, to throw light into the bush, and take our rifles which had been left in the waggon. although we could not see them, we knew they were close at hand; others were heard in the distance, and would no doubt come nearer; sleep was out of the question, as a vigilant watch was necessary, in case they might make an attack on our oxen. wolves also began to enliven the night-air with their sounds, and occasionally a jackal was heard. with the exception of a few scares, when they came too close to the waggon, the night passed off very well, and a lovely bright morning succeeded. we inyoked the oxen, and treked at daylight-- saddling up the horse, i rode into the bush, but could see nothing except their footprints in the sand. from this outspan to ladysmith occupied five days. the country over which we travelled was very pretty, and in many places hilly. ladysmith is another small town, where we remained the morning, and then started for the farm, and arrived on the th of december, , in time to spend the christmas with the old people. ladysmith is now the terminus of the railway, miles from d'urban. it is to be continued at once to newcastle, passing through a rich coal district miles, where it will be only about fifty miles from the nearest gold-fields. natal only asks the imperial government to enable it to borrow the money at three per cent, for this great strategical work, which besides reaching the transvaal, would afford the only coaling-station in south africa. chapter three. final departure for the unknown land--the happy hunting-ground. christmas day, ; on the banks of the tugela river, natal; degrees in the shade, degrees in the sun; : a.m.; a cloudless sky, with scarcely a puff of air to relieve the oppressive heat. no greatcoats, thick gloves, mufflers, or snow-boots are needed on christmas day in these southern climes. the thinnest of thin clothes, and those but few, can be worn with comfort. i envy the native tribes their freedom from dress in such weather. but so it must be, i suppose; we are but children of circumstances, and must abide by the rules of society. not always. the celebrated mr. fynn went naked among the kaffirs for years, as also did gordon cumming. but with all this glorious sunshine, sultry and oppressive atmosphere, christmas is not christmas as we know it in old england, where friends meet friends in all the warmth of overflowing love and hospitality round the well-filled board, and the social gatherings round the hearth, with song and dance, and christmas-tree. we live in its memory when it comes upon us in this far-away land, hoping against hope that at its next anniversary we may be united again with those dear to us, and join in the festivities of merry christmas in our native land. father frost, with his snow-white mantle, is a welcome guest at this season of the year; without him we know not what real christmas is. in this warm clime we endeavour to realise that christmas is upon us, but how can we reconcile the fact with the thermometer at noon standing degrees in the shade, flies, ants, mosquitoes, and countless other insects buzzing round you, fighting after your food and filling the dishes, until you can scarcely make out what is in them! such is christmas in a subtropical land. however, with all these drawbacks, my friends on the farm, who were colonists of eight years standing, did their best to keep up the old customs; their two daughters and one son--all born in england--with myself, and the old people, comprised our little family party. plum-pudding, mince pies, venison, and fowls were served up in the old style, with good english bottled ale, and sundry fruits afterwards. we managed to pass away christmas day with many pledges of good luck and success to all absent friends in glasses of some real old whisky which i had in my waggon. two zulu girls attended, with a bunch of long ostrich feathers each, to keep off the flies during meals, otherwise flies as well as food would have passed into the mouth. but the day was not to terminate as brightly as it commenced. soon after four p.m. dense clouds were rising over the lofty drakensberg mountains in heavy massive folds, rising one after the other in quick succession, spreading out, expanding over the clear sky above, enveloping the mountain tops, blending together earth and sky, a grand and beautiful sight, with the quick flashes of lightning and the distant rumble of the thunder. we watched with intense interest and admiration its rapid approach until we were warned by the hurricane that preceded it that the house was the safest place. having made everything fast without, we waited its arrival. those who have never witnessed a tropical thunderstorm can have but a faint idea of its violence, and in no place in africa is it more so than in natal. they are renowned for their rapid appearance and destructive effects. [fourteen soldiers were struck in one room in natal, some men and two officers on parade another time; whole spans of oxen are often struck, the lightning running along the trek-chain. a woman woke up one morning, and found that her husband had been struck dead by her side without her knowing it.] at half-past five it was at its height; the lightning was incessant and thunder continuous; the rain falling not in drops but in sheets, flooding everything. shortly after six it was passing away to the east, the rumbling of the thunder growing fainter, until a calm succeeded, and the sun shone again in all its brightness, and the evening passed away as serenely and calm as if there were no such things as storms, the only evidence left being broken branches of trees, and every hollow full of water. however, this did not prevent our finishing up our christmas amusements. i arranged to remain here until after the new year, and prepare for my long journey to regions unknown. a driver and two boys had to be looked up. on the farm was a middle-aged hottentot, who had been a driver to a transport rider. mr. talbot told me i could have him if he would go, being trustworthy as far as blacks can be trusted. when spoken to on the subject he was all eagerness to be engaged, as driving was his legitimate work. consequently john was engaged forthwith, and told to look out two boys to go with us. he said he knew two good boys in ladysmith if i would let him go and get them, which i agreed to, and in five days he returned with two very likely lads who were used to waggons and anxious to be engaged--ten shillings a month and food. so far all was settled. the next step was to get my things from maritzburg; this entailed a waggon journey. nearly every day we had thunderstorms, coming on in the afternoon, lasting nearly two hours, but not quite so violent as the one described, though severe enough, in their passage over, to make us glad when they had left us, as the lightning is most destructive and dangerous. we had a very narrow escape on our return journey from maritzburg. we were treking past doornkop, a lofty hill on the left of the road. a thunderstorm was gathering; consequently, anxious to outspan before it burst upon us, we were whipping up the oxen to reach an open space, when a flash descended perpendicularly, striking the road not twenty feet behind the waggon, where a few seconds before we were passing over. if our pace had been the slightest slackened, our lives would have been lost; as it was we felt the effect of the electricity for some days afterwards. when storms are prevalent, never outspan near trees or stony koptjies; the latter seem to attract lightning more frequently; where it strikes on the stones it splits them into several pieces. a slight description of my travelling-house may give greater insight into african travelling. my waggon measured seventeen feet in length and five feet in width. in front is a waggon-box for holding such things as are required for immediate use, and also for the driver and another to sit on. six feet of the front i reserve for my own special use; boxes arranged on the bed-plant, full of grocery and other things, upon which, a thick mattress and bed-clothes. on one side boxes are arranged to form tables for writing or drawing. around the sides of the tent are side-pockets for holding all kinds of useful articles-- powder-flasks, shot, caps, brushes, books, tools, and other things required at a moment's notice. on each side of the waggon my rifles, shot-guns, and revolvers are conveniently slung, that in a moment either of them can be in the hand, three on each side. the back part of the waggon is kept for bags of flour, meal, bread, water-casks, and everything needed for the road. my driver and boys sleep under the waggon or in the tent, as they may think fit. such is my travelling-house. therefore, when on the trek, i am independent, asking no favours of any one, and far from civilisation i am at home and want for nothing, a grand thing for one who is going to explore unknown regions, on the dark continent of africa, where the white man's foot has never trod. what a field is before me! on the th of march, , having everything prepared, i started from the farm, after many farewells and good wishes for my success. i left with regret, feeling i had departed from true and valued friends, who had, to their utmost ability, helped me in my undertaking. my oxen well rested, and horse fat and saucy, i had nothing to wish for but health and fair weather. the first part of my journey was back to ladysmith, then on to newcastle, crossing the biggarsberg range of hills, going over the same ground i had recently travelled, and i arrived there on the th. my object was to make for the upper source of the vaal river and commence my work at that point, but i found so much opposition with the boers against my taking drawings on this second trip, that i changed my plans and settled to proceed to the westward and commence my surveys beyond their boundary, and finish the upper portion of the vaal at some future time. therefore i retraced my steps back from the upper vaal by the road. i took the former route to harrysmith; from thence treked across the free state, a most desolate and uninteresting country, and reached the vaal river, which i crossed below potchefstroom, where i began my work, arriving on its banks on the th of july . i have therefore omitted any reference to the country through the orange free state because i have nothing to relate, except that a more bleak, cheerless region could not be found; always excepting walwich bay, angra pequina, and the back of them. every day's trek like the other, shooting game, inspanning and outspanning; most monotonous to one wanting to arrive at the unknown region. at the boer farms i came to the people were very civil, and supplied me with milk, eggs, and butter _if they had any_; but few made any; if they did, it was only sufficient for a meal, the churn being an ordinary glass bottle, which is bumped on the thigh until the butter comes. at one boer farm in natal, very early in the morning, the old man was turning out of bed when he opened the door which led into their principal sitting-room; the family, sons and daughters, were still what may be termed in bed, if sleeping on skins on the floor with old blankets and skins covering them, and in thin day dresses, can be called so, except the boys minus their coats, and the girls their frocks, without shoes or stockings, because they never wear them, except they go a-visiting. the old man asked me in and to take a seat. after the usual questions put and answered, a tall, well-grown zulu girl brought in a wooden bowl with some water, and placed it on the table, with a small rag beside it. the old boer got up from his chair, went to the bowl, and began to rub his hands, then his face, wiping them with this rag, which i afterwards found out was called a feod-hook. after the boer, his three sons went through the same operation, and then i was invited to do the same, from which i politely excused myself, stating i had washed at the waggon. the four girls and the rugs had disappeared into the inner room. i was then about going to my waggon, when the old man told me to "sit," coffee was coming, and presently the same zulu girl brought in a cup of coffee for each. she was as black as she well could be, and without a particle of covering of any sort. the zulu girls, as a general rule, wear some little bit of rag at their kraals, but this one had nothing. i found the boers do this on purpose to show them they are an inferior race, and to keep them under. at many of the boer houses i found their female servants were in the same way, as they have a wonderful prejudice against the black races, and treat them as dogs; and i found out afterwards that all boers' servants were slaves, and received no pay, their food being mealie, indian corn, and milk. and as the boys and girls grew old enough to marry, any number of children would be seen on a farm. on the whole, the boers are kind to the kaffirs, and are liked by them, because, though strict and sometimes cruel, they treat them more familiarly than we do. there is not such a gulf fixed between them as with us. then, as to slavery, the work is light, and they have enough food, all they care about. in short, it is very much the same as in america formerly; there are good and bad masters, and the kaffirs who work are really happier than those who are idle. slavery is really extinct in natal and the cape, and rapidly becoming so in the boer states. chapter four. the native country north of the vaal river. th july, .--on the banks of the vaal, north of the river, i outspanned at a very pretty open piece of ground; not a house, hut, or living thing to be seen, except geese and ducks in the river, very tame and easily shot. the banks are very steep and covered with fine timber and bush. the water might rise forty feet and not overflow its banks. there are many deep sluits along the banks, where waggons cannot cross, therefore we have to go a long way round. after travelling down the river for two days, we came to an old drift on one of the small rivers which rises in the north, and nearly overturned the waggon in getting through. there are some beautiful stones mixed in the gravel on the banks, some of the agates are very perfect. on the opposite bank was a small koranna village, consisting of seven huts; the men came out to stare, the women and children kept hid in their huts; here my driver john became an important individual, for being of the same tribe, although calling himself a hottentot, he could speak the same language, which was a succession of clicks with guttural sounds in the throat, quite unique in the world's languages. from these people i got my bearings, and found i was on the spruit called scoon spruit; here i took my first observation in the vaal below the upper sources of the river. the weather was very cold, sufficiently to wear great-coat. the korannas informed me through my john that the grass was scarce lower down the river. how these poor miserable-looking people existed was a puzzle to me, a few goats was all they possessed; half-naked, and what covering they had was nothing but rags and skins. the third day after my arrival i inspanned, and took a little exploring expedition to the north of the river, crossing several small streams where i could find a safe crossing, as there was no water in any of them, except here and there in pools; the country open and uninviting. in some places there were bushes and thorn trees, where i made a point of outspanning for the night to shelter the oxen, and procure wood for our fires; fortunately there were no cold winds, a perfect calm, and sometimes the days were warm, but the nights cold. i spent some weeks in going over the country, but as i proceeded westerly i found great difficulty in crossing the many spruits and small watercourses, causing much delay. at one of these where i was outspanned near a kaffir kraal, my driver, by accident, had, in making a fire, ignited the grass, the only portion left from recent fires that had destroyed nearly every blade in the district, which gave a cheerless and desolate appearance to the country; but, before it had spread any distance, we managed to extinguish it. the kaffirs came running down from their huts, shouting, but before they arrived the fire was out, otherwise it would have been a serious matter with me, as it was the only grass they had for their oxen and cattle; i might have lost all i had. when they came they saw it was an accident, as it had destroyed several ox-reims that were lying on the ground. to make all right, a present of tobacco and the purchase of some brayed skins made us friends; money is not known to them; barter is the medium of exchange. [there are dreadful accidents at times from these fires, and, strange to say, loss of life, although you can pass unscathed through the fire anywhere, even on horseback, as the horses will face it. but in attempting to beat out the fire people become asphyxiated, and so fall and are burnt.] again i visit the vaal, where i follow it down, keeping to good grass until the spring grass comes, taking long rides over the country with my rifle, as game was plentiful--blesboks and springboks, wildebeests, and steenbok, which is a small antelope, with horns six inches in length, very good eating when baked in an iron pot. the country i have now treked over leads up to two very fine springs and large vleis, which i find is the source of the hart river, where lichtenburg now stands. i soon found lions and wolves were numerous; we could hear them in the evening and at night, but had not seen any. our outspan on the vaal is in a snug nook of the river, with plenty of trees and bush, below where bloomhof is now built. wild ducks and geese were so plentiful, that of the former i frequently at one shot brought down six and eight, on the islands, for there are several, covered with trees and bush, as also are both banks; the river is very pretty. in the evening, after fishing a short time, i would return to the waggon with six or seven large barbel, the tails reaching the ground when carried over the shoulder on a stick; they are fat, with few bones; the white or yellow fish is better eating but full of bones; much as i like fish, i do not care for these. the boers are very fond of them. they are soft and tasteless; the eels are better. they grow to forty or fifty pounds. the river is about yards broad when it is flooded, the water rises in the narrow parts from thirty and sometimes fifty feet in height, entirely submerging the tall trees growing on the banks; at these times the water is composed of one-third mud, but when low, as it is now, it is very clear; so much so, that i have frequently seen the iguana walking on its bed at a depth of five feet; some of them grow to a great size. i found three kinds, the very dark brown, the largest, measuring from head to end of tail five feet; they are very destructive in the farm-yards, visiting the fowl-roosts at night. i shot one a few nights ago, with legs a foot in length. otters are also plentiful but difficult to find, their spoor was everywhere to be seen on the banks. ant-bears and spring-hares which resemble very much the kangaroo. meercats abound all over the veldt; they are grey, some have very bushy tails, others long and smooth, but along the river-banks they are red with black tails. the armadillo is also found covered with large scales, and when disturbed curls up similar to our hedgehogs. snakes are not visible yet, the weather is too cold. i have shot three varieties of kingfishers, one very large and of a light grey colour. there are many beautiful birds along the river-banks, also guinea-fowl, partridges and pheasants, consequently i vary my dishes. and with such a variety of small game, such as jackals and tiger-cats, we find plenty of sport. _october st_.--i made a move down the river in the afternoon. a thunderstorm came on in evening, and we had to outspan near a large koranna station, the nights closing in so quickly, and the road being unsafe to travel in the dark. we made everything right before the storm broke over us. we were close on the high banks of the river, thick with trees and bush all round, not a safe place in a storm, but well protected from the wind. the night was fearfully dark and rough, and i had little sleep; the oxen breaking loose from the trektow, i had to wake the boys to secure them. soon after breakfast the whole koranna kraal turned out to come and stare at the white man; men, women, and children, about seventy in all, as motley a group as could well be found; some of a dark dirty drab, light-yellow, and blackish-brown, many of the younger ones almost white and with rather pleasing countenances; all of them in a half-nude state, the children entirely so. the grown-up females had old and dirty kaffir sheets thrown over their shoulders and held in front; the men wear parts of what once were trousers, but are now in rags, made of skin. i began to think i had fallen into about as fine a nest of unwashed and half-starved rascals as i could meet with in my travels; my driver, john, knowing their language, could talk to them. my waggon was soon surrounded, each one begging for a piece of machuku (tobacco), the women and children forming a half-circle in front of the waggon, sitting down two and three deep, all asking for tobacco. i gave some to the men, who commenced smoking through bone pipes made out of the leg-bone of blesbok, about four inches in length, in which they put the weed at one end and drew from the other. one old shrivelled-up woman was persistent in her demand, and got quite cross because i took no notice, and abused me in her tongue, which i knew from her manner; i therefore would not give her any. sitting on my waggon-box in front, i looked at her, and putting my thumb to my nose and extending my fingers in her direction, called forth a yell from all the women and young ones; every one imitating my action returned the compliment to me. their action looked so ludicrous, i could not resist bursting out into a hearty laugh; this exasperated them the more; taking no notice of all this noise, they began to see it was no use, therefore one by one came holding out her hand asking quietly for a piece. i told john to tell them i would not give them any because they abused me; they then came and wanted to kiss my hand. finding they could not do that, they kissed my coat, boots, anything they could touch of my clothes; at last, to get rid of them, each had a piece given them; then i was _everything_ that was good, and blessings came tumbling down upon me wholesale. a large circle of the women was soon formed round the fire in a sitting position, smoking away, about thirty, old and young, the old kaffir rags thrown on one side careless of results, modesty being unknown. the men standing round or sitting beyond the circle completed a group worthy a better artist than i am to give it full effect, and in the evening the bright glare of a large fire, bringing prominently into view the figures against the background beyond, and many of the large stems of the trees and branches showing out brightly, completed the picture. but the charm was broken by the din and noise of the people, all talking, laughing, singing, and some dancing. a happy people! no cares for the present or the future. this sort of amusement went on until ten o'clock, then i gave my john orders to clear them all off, for i wanted to sleep; any that remained behind were to have no tobacco to-morrow; this had a magical effect, they cleared at once, and silence reigned supreme, and the night passed away in peace. i outspanned at a sharp bend of the vaal, on the fifth day from the koranna station, where there is a stony drift crossing the river to the missionary station at pniel, where bloom and his people lived. in , extensive diamond-diggings were worked here, and many thousand people were employed at pniel and klip drift; both were very extensive camps, the latter being the headquarters of the provisional government, previous to the annexation of griqualand west, when it received the name of barkly, and continued to be the headquarters up to , when all the departments were transferred to kimberley. _october th_.--i went down early in the morning to the drift, with my span of oxen, to help a boer, whose waggon had stuck in the middle of the river, and his small and poor span could not move it. fortunately the water was very low, otherwise the great boulders that blocked the wheels could not have been removed. his vrow and kinder (children) were sitting in the waggon with their faces wrapped up, only their eyes visible, a common practice with them when on the road. they are always getting what they call sinkings (neuralgia). having hooked on my trektow with my span of fourteen, the waggon was brought out and up the steep bank in safety, and outspanned a short distance from my camp. he informed me he had come from the free state, and was on his way up-country for skins from the kaffirs. the vrow was handed out of the waggon, a camp-stool put for her, a fire made, the kettle put on for coffee, and things made comfortable. we had some difficulty in landing the vrow, she being rather stout and short, quite a genteel figure, measuring, as correctly as my eye could judge, about five feet round her waist; rather "off-coloured" complexion. her principal occupation seemed to be sitting on her camp-stool; she was not fit for active work. the whole family was suffering from inflamed eyes, a common complaint caused by dirt. so far as i have seen of the boers, there is scarcely a family without one of its members being so afflicted. this is purely from never washing themselves; they have a natural horror of water touching their persons. there are many hottentot, koranna, and bushmen living along the river-banks; they have so intermixed by marriage that there is little difference between them. some are of opinion that the koranna is the true hottentot, but the people, as a general rule, are taller and of a lighter colour than the real cape hottentot, but as i have stated, from their intermarriages it is difficult to draw the line. the bushmen of the north are much more distinct from those in the south. there are also many of the bechuana tribe living in small detached kraals, and bastards, so-called from being born of dutch fathers and hottentot women in the early occupation of the cape colony, and from the great increase in their number they have become an important tribe, and are found in all parts of south africa. they do not differ from the boers in habits and customs, and when able build their houses similar to those of the boer. in fact there is but a slight difference between them, particularly those who are living in the transvaal. it is interesting to study how the blood of a tribe or different nationality will show itself after many generations; as an instance, in one family i am well acquainted with, the grandfather is an old boer, whose mother was a bushwoman; his son married a boer girl, and their daughter married a german; the eldest son of this marriage was a half black; the second son very fair, with light hair and blue eyes; the eldest daughter very dark, black hair and eyes, quite half black; the second daughter very fair, light flaxen hair and light blue eyes; the third daughter and third son were both half black, black eyes and crisp black hair; the fourth son again was fair. this family was the fourth generation from the black and white marriage. i know of several other similar cases, and most of the transvaal boers are of this breed. _november th_.--i returned from a five days' trek down the river, where the junction of the hart river falls into the vaal, and close to a large kaffir kraal, under the chief jantze of the bechuana tribe, and found the old boer outspanned at the same place; he was afraid to proceed, having heard the boers of the transvaal were still fighting amongst themselves, which had been going on for a long time, and which was the reason of my leaving the country last october, causing me to alter my plans, and on the th of november, , i left the vaal at high drift for the north. two days' trek over a stony road, between low hills covered with vaal bush, which is in full bloom at this season of the year, giving out a pleasant perfume, the leaves also being strongly scented, and when boiled in water are sometimes used for tea. towards the hart river the veldt is level, with several isolated ranges of hills. at the west end of one there is a conical hill, formed entirely of limestone and fossil bones, so blended together that it is impossible to separate them--teeth, jawbones, and other parts of animals, large and small, are found. the surrounding hills are of sandstone formation, with large boulders of a bluish colour that overlap them. i think there can be no doubt as to the origin of the formation of this chalk hill, viz. by the action of the water when submerged in the ocean. the bones and chalk, the latter being held in solution, would be brought together and deposited in comparative still water by the eddy formed by the current rounding the end of the adjacent hill, but from whence the immense mass of bones comes is a question not so easily solved; being of the same specific gravity they may have been deposited in the eddy. i visited the hill several times in passing, and spent many hours on its side and summit with my hammer breaking off pieces to ascertain if any human remains could be found, but not being an anatomist my labour was partly in vain. of every piece of rock i detached from the hill nearly one-half was composed of bones, all perfectly white, the same as the limestone, and exceedingly hard. in many other localities i have found masses of bones imbedded in limestone; the former have been white, the latter of a dark greyish colour, forming extensive caves, from which beautiful springs of delicious water flow, showing that animal life existed prior to the general configuration of the present earth's surface. during my two days' journey from the vaal river large herds of game were seen in all directions, keeping me in the saddle all day to provide food for the road. lions, wolves, and jackals were heard nightly, and came prowling round our camp at no great distance, but never came sufficiently close to be seen. a few miles beyond the bone hill, if i may so call it, we crossed the harts river, a bad and muddy drift, where there were many kaffir huts. ascending the hill beyond, i came to "great boetsass," where the chief would not allow me to outspan, as he said i had come for no good, being sent by the boers of the transvaal to take down on paper all the watering-places; therefore i was detained whilst he and his head-men held a kind of "raad" over me, to decide what they should do. finally they decided to send me out of the country in the direction of mahura's kraal at taungs, the head chief of the bechuanas, with a guard of six men to see me clear, and put me in the road, following me up for several miles; they then left me in the middle of the veldt, without a road or anything to guide me. the chief would not believe my statement. to have resisted would have been folly, as i could do very little against a hundred kaffirs. all the women and children kept to their huts, the men assembled quite in a nude state, except a small cloth in front, and were armed with assagais and knobkerries. when i was leaving, they came demanding some tobacco; i told them they should have none; if they had behaved well, i would have given them plenty. finding these kaffirs had been so badly used by the boers, and not knowing the english, they insulted every white man that came into their country; and having heard very bad accounts of the people at taung and the villages around from the same cause, i determined, when the guard left me, to strike across the country and give them a wide berth, otherwise i might be detained again. two years after, when visiting this kraal, the chief, when he found out who i was, told me he was very sorry he had turned me away. after proceeding several miles we came to a single hut where a bushman lived, looking after a few goats, who directed me what course to take. giving him a little tobacco i proceeded a few miles to a thick forest of trees, close to a pan of water, where i outspanned for the night. at many of these pans, and when travelling over the country, i would pick up flint implements that were lying exposed on the surface. on some of the large rocks in out-of-the-way places, carvings of a variety of animals, snakes, and men are occasionally stumbled upon in the stone "koptjies," quite artistic in execution. the instrument must have been of good steel to make any impression on the hard stone. i do not think they are the work of bushmen, as some suppose, but those who once occupied this country in search of gold many hundred years ago, as there is such extensive evidence in this country, in the old pits remaining, of former workings. _december th_.--shot a fine hartebeest early in the morning from the saddle, and after breakfast started with waggon, following a track partly overgrown with bush, over an undulating country, sometimes through a thorn country and kameel-doorn trees, where thousands of game were literally covering the open plains in every direction as far as the eye could see. blue wildebeest, blesbok and springbok, quaggas and many other kinds; there was one drove of quaggas, at least a thousand, crossing the path i was travelling, only a few hundred yards in front, going at full speed, a beautiful sight. outspanning in the evening near a large pond, we disturbed, as we approached, several hundred ducks, which kept us employed until dark in adding to our larder. in the morning the namaqua partridge in coveys of twenty to a hundred came to water. they are the size of a dove; the time to shoot them is when they are settling at the edge of the water and when they rise; in two shots i killed fifty-four; they are called also sand-grouse. the next day i passed through a pretty country, well-wooded and low hills, noted as the lion veldt; therefore i treked on to get clear of the bush before night, and came to a very large brak pan, at least four miles in circumference, called great chue pan. on the bank was a small spring of good water, and an open country, where we remained the night. the oxen were let loose, and the horse knee-haltered to feed, before making them fast for the night to the trektow, my invariable custom, to prevent their straying; the loss of your oxen is almost death to the traveller. they were feeding some distance from my camp, when they were seen in full gallop coming to the waggon, and did not stop until close home; we knew they were frightened by lions. at night, soon after dark, we heard the roar of several, in the direction where the oxen had been feeding. we made them fast round the waggon, and close in front collected wood for fires, which we kept up all night; and all of us on the watch with rifles, for they never ceased their roar, sometimes very near, but being very dark and cloudy i could not see them. as a book of reference, describing the physical geography of south central africa, it is necessary in the first instance to give the several river systems or basins comprised within this region; and, secondly, to give the results of my explorations, not in consecutive journeys, but in a detailed description of each separate region visited from time to time, as i had frequent occasion to travel over the same ground for the purpose of completing my labours, so that no portion of any region should be left unexplored. for when such an immense area of nearly , , square miles has to be visited, to survey the whole necessitates frequent visits to the same district, to be able to reach those parts beyond. consequently i have passed through all this region many times. chapter five. on griqualand west, the griquas, korannas, bushmen, and diamond-fields. previous to the annexation of this country by the british government, it was occupied by various tribes under petty chiefs, ruling each their separate kraals, the banks of the vaal and orange rivers being the most thickly populated districts. so far back as there were mission stations established at griqua town and campbell, by the rev.--campbell, and anderson and others. the country at that time was peopled by korannas, bushmen, bechuanas, and griquas, under the chiefs choodeep, keidebio, siffonel, and sebedare; the two latter were bechuanas of the baralong family, who had large kraals and many people. soon after the country was overrun by hordes of kaffirs living more to the east of what is now the transvaal, of various tribes, some of the chiefs being the bapedi, makatee or mantatees, afterwards called basutu or musutu, under moshesh, whose habits and customs in war were similar to the zulus-- their weapons, the assagai and long oval shield, the shield of the bechuana being square, hollowed out on the four sides. [these mantatees are so-called from the name of their queen, who was the widow of a petty chief and elected queen. the kaffirs had a fancy for a queen, and the tribe became very powerful. at last she was deposed by her prime minister, moshesh. she fled to natal, and died there in obscurity. moshesh had , horsemen, and gave us more trouble than any other chief. at last the boers of the orange river free state wore him down.] soon after, the rev. robert moffat and the rev.--campbell established the mission station at kuruman, which was made the headquarters of the london missionary society in bechuanaland, forty miles beyond the northern boundary of griqualand west; and, at the same time, two other stations on the north and north-west of the latter station, baclairis and matelong; and, subsequently, the german mission was established at pniel, on the banks of the vaal, about fourteen miles to the north, where kimberley now stands, and a missionary is now doing duty there. at griqua town the mission house is in ruins, the church is still kept up, and the missionary from kuruman goes over and holds service. at campbell the mission house and church are both in ruins. upper campbell, which is a mile to the north of lower campbell, on the top of a range of hills called campbell randt, has only a few houses occupied by griquas; a mr. bartlett occupies the farm. another mission station, established after lower campbell, was at lekatlong, near the junction of the harts and vaal rivers, by the same london society, under the rev. mr. ashton, but the church and house are in ruins. mr. ashton lives now at barkly, and goes over occasionally to hold service. it was a large bechuana station under the chief jantje, who has now removed with his people to masupa, beyond the northern boundary of griqualand west. the griquas many years ago settled down on both sides of the vaal. adam kok settled at normansland, on the borders of natal, with his people. andries waterboer settled with his people at griqua town, occupying the whole of the western division of griqualand west, dividing it into farms; and at the death of andries, his son, nicholas waterboer, became chief, and it was with him the british government arranged to annex the country to the british empire in . waterboer lived in a nice house, well furnished, and the family live as respectably as any boer family. i was invited to a dance one evening by waterboer, when the _elite_ of the families were invited. all the fashionable dances were correctly and well performed to the music of the harmonium, which one of his sons played; his daughters were well-behaved, and i was much pleased to see such refinement in this out-of-the-way corner of the world among the natives. since that time he has been made a prisoner, deprived of his chieftainship, and is now living in hope town, the principal portion of his people being driven from their lands. the griquas are a religious and well-conducted people, kind and hospitable, but lazy, and they will only work when obliged. they plough and cultivate their lands, are fond of coffee and visiting; like their boer brothers in habits and customs, being descended from dutch and bushmen, they retain the habits of the former. many of the boers of the transvaal are descended from these people. in this province they are found in less numbers than formerly, but some are living along the orange river and the western district. the korannas had large kraals along the vaal and orange before diamonds were found; since then they have gone more to the west into the kalahara desert. they are, as i have before stated, a dirty and dishonest tribe, not to be trusted in any way; their main stronghold is at maamuosa, on the harts river, under the chief moshoen. the bushmen also have considerably decreased. when i first knew them, in , these two tribes lived together with scarcely anything to cover them. at the present time they all wear clothes of some sort, and are in a better position in consequence of the diamond-fields bringing money into the country. i have had several of them for my servants at different times, but could make nothing of them. speaking to my koranna boys about their marriages, they tell me when a man and woman agree to be man and wife, as soon as that is settled between them, without asking any one's permission or going through any ceremony, they are then and there married, so long as it suits them; if either wish to break off the engagement, they tell the other party that he or she can go and get another wife or husband, as the case may be; the children, if any, are divided by agreement. in i had a koranna boy, about twenty, who got married when in my service; seven months after they got tired of each other, so he took another girl, and his old wife married the other boy i had. in i had another koranna, who changed his wife three times when in my service. the hottentots and bushmen do the same; they never have more than one wife at a time. all the other tribes can have as many wives as they are able to keep. they belong to the bechuana family, and live more in the northern part of griqualand west, near the harts river, as all the lower parts are occupied by english, dutch, and others in farms, allowing small native kraals to remain on them, that the occupiers may have the use of their labour when required, and they are allowed a piece of ground to cultivate and grazing for their cattle. diamond-digging first commenced in the latter end of at hebron, on the vaal river; then at klip drift early in , now called barkly, and on the opposite side of the river pniel, where large camps were formed employing many thousand people at each place, all living under canvas. then prospecting parties went down the river, forming large camps at delporthope, esterhanger, blue jacket, forlorn hope, keisikamma, union coppie, gong gong, webster's kops, waldeck, plant, and down the river from barkly fifty-five miles to siffonel. these composed the principal river diggings. diamonds have been found much lower down in the orange river at priska, and miles above barkly, and at bloemhofbut; no claims have been worked beyond those named. all these river diggings are now abandoned, with the exception of a few hundred, where thousands once occupied the ground. the discovery of diamonds at new rush, now kimberley, old de beers, du toit's pan, and bultfontein, and from the great quantity of diamonds found, drew all the diggers from the river to take claims in those four rich and valuable mines, which are now being worked with expensive machinery at an enormous expense. the kimberley mine is the largest, being nearly half a mile in diameter and feet deep, with engine and hauling-gear round the whole distance. it is the same with the other mines; the population, including whites and blacks, must exceed , . kimberley is twenty-five miles south-east from barkly, and is the great diamond centre, where the government of the province is carried on. these four principal mines cover an area of over six square miles, and are situated in a part of the country the most wretched, barren, and exposed i have ever been in; no trees, but open dreary plains, surround the mines in all directions. up to , the people and machinery were supplied with water from wells, which did not give sufficient for their wants. a company was established to draw the water from the vaal river, distant some twelve miles, by an engine pumping the water into reservoirs and by pipes. kimberley is the great mining centre and the important town in griqualand west, and in all this part of africa roads branch off in all directions. it is the terminus of the cape railway. from bloemfontein, the capital of the orange free state, the distance is about miles; from kimberley to bloemhof miles, and from the latter to pretoria, in the transvaal, miles. to barkly it is miles, and from that town to taungs, in bechuanaland, miles, and to kuruman, north-north-west from barkly, miles. there is also a direct road from kimberley, through the free state to maritzburg, in natal; the distance is about miles; besides many others to all parts of the country. barkly, up to , was the seat of the government, when it was removed to kimberley. it was then a busy and thriving town, several hotels, clubhouses, bank, high court, and other offices. the town, since this change, has fallen off considerably. it stands on the lofty bank of the vaal, feet above the river, with stone koppies surrounding it bare almost of vegetation, not an inviting locality to settle in. it has become now the frontier-town for the interior trade; the river being feet broad, there is plenty of room for boating. many of the inhabitants enjoy, in the summer, a sail on its waters, which is in many parts deep. the banks are well clothed with trees that add greatly to the beauty of the river. two passenger-carts run daily between this town and kimberley, passing over the pont, which is capable of taking a waggon and span of sixteen oxen on at one time. since then a bridge has been erected. the geological formation has many varieties of rocks:--the siliceous and crystalline limestone of the campbell rands, a range of hills that runs through the northern portion of this province, from the chief monkuruan's town at taung, in a south-west direction, on the north side of the harts river, down past campbell town to the orange river, where it breaks up into many spurs, where are amygdaloidal and ancient conglomerates, and schistose rocks, with shale and sand, form the lofty hills along the vaal, which is the same throughout the whole course of this river in griqualand; and on the opposite side, at puiel, backhouse, hebron, and the koppies on its banks, is jasper with magnetite along the kuruman range which passes griqua town, and quartzite sandstone at the langberg range of mountains, which runs north for several hundred miles into the kalahara desert, and forms part of the western boundary of griqualand west. plumbago, shale, sandstone, and ferruginous breccia at these peculiar hills at blauw klip and matsap. limestone on the northern boundary and at danielkuil. felspathic rocks, olive shales, and gravels are seen in the hills on the river near langberor mountain. the boundary of this province commences at kheis on the orange river, the extreme western point, opposite scheurberg mountain, following the river up to hope town on to ramah, the cape colony being on the south side, then in a north-north-east direction to platberg, near the vaal river; the free state boundary also; thence in a north-north-west direction, crossing the vaal, and harts river, the joint boundary of the transvaal by the last convention, and also the boundary of monkuruan's territory, then turns west-south-west to a tree, north of nelson's fountain on to a point in langberg, thence to kheis on the orange. this part of griqualand west is wild and grand, lofty mountains broken up into isolated and perpendicular masses, a thousand feet high, with lofty projecting rocks jutting out from their sides; the dark colour of the stone gives additional grandeur to the landscape. this kind of scenery continues up and down the river from kheis for nearly miles. from griqua town to bultfontein, over sixty miles, the country is of the same character, the road passing along from that town to wittwater, reedfontein, modderfontein, bluebush kalk, to bultfontein, on the orange river, a pretty site for a town. it is a kaffir station of several tribes. at modderfontein, nearly on the summit of one of the lofty hills, are several bushmen's caves. the largest is capable of holding people; the rocks within show evidence of fire by their smoked appearance, and many years ago were occupied by that bloodthirsty tribe mentioned in my description of the kalahara. the griquas living here told me they have passed away, but the old man stated their fathers could remember them. the mountain road leaves bultfontein and goes west no great distance from the river, over a very stony, road, on to the pits, where several griquas have comfortable houses, situated on a pleasant open space, rarely to be equalled for beautiful views in all directions. i remained here several days to ramble and explore the mountain tops. i took my driver in case of accidents, as leopards and lions were known to be there, as one old griqua told me they frequently lost a goat by being taken from the kraal at night. vegetation up the kloofs and on the slopes of the hills is very fine; beautiful tree-ferns, and every variety of other kinds, particularly the maiden-hair, which grows out amongst the rocks on the mountains, are very beautiful; also some very fine ground orchids, and a thorny bush with crimson flowers, as also many varieties of aloes. this district contains copper and lead, and from the appearance of the quartz which crops out, i believe gold will be discovered when this part is prospected. one road from this place goes down to the river through a fearful valley; it is necessary to "reim" (tie) the four wheels of the waggon, otherwise it would go crash down into the precipice below, and then turn over and be smashed. this was the road i took to the river on a previous journey. the other passes on to milk stort pass in the langberg range, fifty miles more to the west, which i crossed on the western side, and outspanned under some fine old trees, close to a perpendicular rock at the foot of the berg, where we found a small pool of water in the rocks, collected from the recent rains, and good grass. the pass over the mountains was a most difficult and dangerous road, large holes and boulders blocking the way. the scenery on both sides was grand, lofty and perpendicular rocks, feet high, with beautiful shrubs and flowers growing out from every crevice. the light and shadows thrown on the opposite hills by the setting sun gave beauty to the landscape. at night some leopards paid my camp a visit; a few sheep i kept as a reserve for the road appear to have been the cause of their troubling me. a bushman and his son came early in the morning and told my boys where the leopards could be found, and as their skins made splendid karosses, we arranged to hunt them down if possible, taking the bushman as guide to point the way. three of my boys, myself and two dogs, followed the spoor for several hundred yards. up amongst the spurs of the mountain, the old bushman pointed to a ledge of rocks overhanging others, surrounded by bush. we then sent the dogs to ascertain their whereabouts, for we knew there were at least two by their spoor on the sand. as soon as the dogs, by their barking and unmistakable fear, showed exactly where they were, we took up our position on separate rocks, forty yards distant from the tigers' den. two of my boys were to keep up a fire into where we knew them to be, myself and driver kept ready to overhaul any that might come out. we heard nothing but low growls from time to time; the affair began to be interesting. after nearly a dozen bullets had been sent in, out came a fine male leopard at one bound over some bushes, looking anything but amiable, and took a deliberate survey of his surroundings, his fine spotted skin shining in the sunlight--a beautiful animal. but this was only for a few moments; three bullets entered his body at once, when he gave a spring, and fell on one side, and as he did not appear quite dead i gave him another in the region of the heart, for i have known them drop like this, and then spring up and seize upon those near them. the other, which we concluded was the female, made her escape amongst the rocks. i then set the bushman and my hottentot boy to take off the skin, and the rest returned to the camp, where we found the dogs lying down by the fire, evidently ashamed of their desertion by their fawning manner to make friends. animals have more sense than instinct; they knew perfectly well they had done wrong in leaving us. this range of mountains, which runs due north, as i have stated, forms the south-eastern boundary of the kalahara desert, and looking towards the west for thirty miles from the base the country is almost level, a few sand-dunes and gentle rises up to the scheurberg mountain range, which looks one compact mass of lofty peaks. but on a close inspection, there are many detached and deep valleys running between. a native road passes about midway through on to the koranna and bastard stations on the orange river. there are a great many lions in these hills, as it is uninhabited, except by bushmen. on my previous exploration, where i outspanned near a bushman kraal, one of them told my boys that a few days before our arrival a lion had entered one of the huts and carried off a young boy; they followed him in the dark with burning brands, but had to give up; they could only trace him by the screams of the lad, but they soon ceased. across the desert from this point westward, it is miles. leaving the camp the next morning after the leopard-hunt, we proceeded in a northerly direction for thirty-three miles along the west base of langberg, and arrived, on the second day, opposite speck kopjie, where another pass crosses the mountain, which is a very stony and rough road, but the scenery grand on both sides, similar to that we passed through a few days ago, and arrived at a farm belonging to potgieter, a boer. from thence on to koppies, mr. hyland's farm, blaaw klip, is six miles beyond, where, in a hill, a soft stone is dug, which the natives form into pipes, plates, vases, and many other useful articles. and beyond, in a north-east direction, is mount hexley, maremane and coses, a kaffir station. the formation of the hills is very peculiar, lofty, isolated koppies, covered, many of them, with thick bush, others almost bare, the naked rocks piled one upon another in grotesque forms. the dry river-bed passing through this part is a branch of the kuruman river. we then crossed the kuruman range, and arrived at the mission station nd april, . before leaving this part of the griqualand west, i should like to describe that peculiar sand-formation on the west side of the landberg mountains, which is in fact part of it. i heard from many of the griquas and potgieter, living near it, that the lofty hills are constantly changing; that is, the sand-hills, and feet in height, in the course of a few years subside, and other sand-hills are formed where before it was level ground. _may th, sunday_.--attended mr. moffat's church; the service is held in the bechuana language. about natives present. the singing is as well performed as it is in any english church at home. the kaffirs, who are bechuanas, have fine clear voices, and the women are well known to have sweet, musical voices. the service is well-conducted, and the natives as attentive as any white congregation in a civilised country. i first attended at this church in february , when the rev. robert moffat was living there, previous to his finally leaving for england. on th december, , i was again there, detained for many weeks with a severe illness, and through the kind nursing of mr. and mrs. john moffat, mr. and mrs. levy, and other english residents, soon recovered. i remember well before leaving at that time they got up a little picnic party, to visit some ancient bushmen caves, a few miles from the mission station towards the hills, taking a cart with provisions, the party riding, and a very enjoyable day we had. as we approached the hills the country became covered with bush and long grass, where i may safely say, several hundreds of baboons were busy seeking roots. the old men were very large, and to see the whole troop scuttle towards the hills with the babies on their mothers' backs, with their little arms clinging round their necks, was a pretty and novel sight. arriving at the caves, we found a long sand cliff projecting many yards over the lower part, affording shelter for several hundred families, perfectly secure and a safe retreat--but its ancient inhabitants are passed away and forgotten. we procured some very beautiful specimens of the trap-door spider; the workmanship of the door and its hinge, and the lining of the passage down to their nest is something marvellous. so far as i have discovered, there are three kinds of this species, distinguished by their size. the largest is a black spider, the body nearly an inch in length; the opening, or passage, and the door to their nest is the size of our english florin; the hole to the nest is perpendicular for from a foot to two feet, when an open space is beyond. the coating of this opening and the under side of the door is of a greyish white, and as soft and smooth as satin, and when the door is shut it fits so exactly as to be quite watertight. the top of the door is made to represent the ground round about, to be undistinguishable by an enemy. the second size trap-door is the size of a shilling, and the third the size of a fourpenny-bit. but the spiders are of the same type; where one kind is found in a district the others are not, showing they occupy separate localities. i have frequently found the door open and thrown back, showing the spider is abroad hunting up game to supply his larder. on several occasions when finding these doors open i have watched the return of the spider, sitting down a few feet from the door, and waited sometimes nearly half an hour. presently he will be seen coming along in great haste. on arrival at the door he looks down for a few seconds, as if to listen if all is right below; then he makes a small circuit round, again approaching; this time he goes in a few inches, then out, and another inspection of the locality, back again, and down into his nest, where he remains about two minutes; out he comes on to the top, looks round, then goes in, turns round and puts out one of his fore-legs, takes hold of the door and pulls it close down over him, and when shut it is difficult to see where it is. frequently i have watched these spiders (three kinds) when they have left their doors open, and invariably the same cautious movements have been adopted on returning home. there are other spiders very similar in form and size to the above; they make their nests and passages down after the same fashion, but with no trap-door, the entrance being quite open and exposed. another peculiar spider, common in these parts, is the two-headed spider, with two mandibles; they are the largest i have seen, two inches in length, with six legs, and of a greenish-brown colour. they are night spiders, and the bushmen tell me their bite is death. this may, or may not, be true; i had no desire to try. the number that must be hidden in the ground in the day must be legion. when i have had my camp-fire at night, on an open piece of ground near which i have been sitting, after hunting, hundreds of spiders and creeping things, as also moths, are drawn to it for warmth and light; amongst them are these two-headed monsters, seen running about, and finally become destroyed by rushing into the burning embers. i found their retreat during the day by a pet meercat, the long smooth-tailed kind, similar to the ichneumon. he would, on my outspanning, jump off the waggon and begin to smell the ground in all directions, and frequently stop, begin to scratch with his fore-feet down two or three inches, poke his long nose into the hole, and bring out one of these spiders and devour it with evident relish. the ground being perfectly smooth with no aperture exposed, i could not discover how they could conceal themselves so cleverly. in some cases, i counted the number this little animal would find in a given space, when roughly hunting over the ground; it would average seventeen, in a surface ten feet square, and leaving probably as many in the ground. the tarantula is also very common, some of them the size of the palm of one's hand, well covered with long brown hair. a large camp-fire at night would draw the scorpions to it also, particularly if it should be made near a stone koppie. they grow to a great size. i have caught them from one inch to twelve inches in length. when young they are of a green colour, but full-grown they are black. the sting of the young ones, if on the arm or leg, causes a numbness with a burning heat that may last a day, with no other bad symptoms. the sting of the full-grown ones must be dangerous; the natives tell me it is death. the study of the insect-world is a lifelong study in africa alone, consequently my attention was only drawn to those kinds that took my special attention. there is every indication that this country is drying up. fountains that gave out fine springs of water, so the old kaffirs told me, in their fathers' time, have not been known to flow for many years. this is a common remark all over the country, and there is evidence that it is so. extensive pans, some more than a mile in circumference and feet deep, with rocks or cliffs generally on the north-east side, with sandy bottoms, are now without water, when evidently they must have been full at some time. from the long drought, seven or eight months of the year, it cannot become a corn-growing country to any extent. the greater portion of the ground is of that stony and rocky nature it is incapable of growing anything but a coarse grass that suits cattle, but not sheep. a farm of morgan, or acres, will not maintain throughout the year more than head. that is where water is on the farm, otherwise that number of cattle can only be maintained for seven months out of the year. the northern border of griqualand west, on the north of the campbell randt, is a fine country for grazing and keeping cattle. there is more permanent water, the district being limestone. from daniel's kuil, where there is a singular cave, and between neat's fountain, marsaipa and boetsap, is now laid out into farms. fourteen years ago i frequently hunted the ostrich all through that region. lions and wolves would visit me every night. bushmen also were found, but of late years they have disappeared. an old bushman at that time told me one evening many tales of his escapes from lions, and one of his brothers, only a few months before, was seized by a lion in the arm, when he had the presence of mind to take a handful of sand and throw it in the lion's eyes, when he let go, and the bushman made his escape before the lion had recovered from the pain and surprise, then gave a roar and bounded away. i saw his brother a few days afterwards, and the marks of the teeth on the arm. a similar occurrence happened in the desert when i was there four years before. a lion had seized a bushman in a similar way, when he could manage to reach the hind part and squeeze his leg, when the lion gave a roar and sprang away. many other such tales i have heard from these children of the desert of lions leaving the victims they have seized. i have met with three kinds of wolves in these parts: the tiger-wolf, hyena striata, the largest kind, the striped hyena, a large animal, and the maned hyena, the small kind. the wolf-hyena is the most numerous. porcupine-hunting is very good sport at night when the moon gives a good light. they visit the kaffir gardens, when the corn is getting forward. the plan is to go in with a few dogs, and several kaffirs with sticks; the dogs drive the porcupines about; when they come near a good rap with the stick on their nose soon kills them, but care must be taken they do not run back and plant some of their quills into your legs, for they make dangerous wounds. the old bushmen tell me they recollect when all the large game was plentiful over the whole of this part of griqualand west, north of the vaal and orange rivers, and also the hippopotami were found in them. the blood kaffirs, along the lower part of the orange, also tell me there is one at the present time to be seen occasionally. the flora in these parts, in the spring and through the summer, is an interesting study alone. some of the flowers are perfectly crimson, others of a deep purple; the creepers, with their rich scarlet flowers, climbing up amongst the bushes, and long yellow pods, make the veldt interesting. the vaal bush is the most common in this province; it flowers in the winter, and has a pleasant perfume; the tea made from its leaves is an excellent tonic. many of the bechuanas live in small kraals along the campbell randt, the harts river, and at great and little boetsap, and possess many waggons and spans of oxen, supplying the people at the diamond-fields with vegetables, corn, cattle, and also wood from their forests, to keep the machinery at work. the general altitude of this part of the country is feet above sea-level. this is the cause of grass being more coarse throughout the interior of south africa than it is at a lower level, and why winters are colder than they would be, the south latitude being only degrees. griqualand at the present time is as much occupied by a white population as any part of the cape colony, and, from its being the great diamond centre, has now become the most extensive and business part of south africa; millions of pounds change hands annually, where fifteen years ago it was a howling wilderness. chapter six. the bechuana family--their division into tribes--their past and present condition. that portion of bechuanaland between the territory belonging to the chief montsoia, which is on the north, and griqualand west, is occupied by several chiefs belonging to this family. monkuruan claims to be the paramount chief over many of them, others claim their independence. when the british government annexed the diamond-fields, they acknowledged this chief to be the head of the bechuanas over all that country. previous to that time, mahura, uncle to monkuruan, ruled; at his death his nephew became chief, and lived at his chief town, situated on one of the spurs of the campbell rantz, called taung, or toane, a large kaffir station, close to a small branch of the harts river, above its junction, containing a population, at the time i first visited the country, under . monkuruan and his people belong to the batlapin tribe of the bechuana family. he has several large kraals, where his people live. another chief, botlatsitsi, son of the old chief gasebone, lives at phokwane, about eighteen miles from taung, on the south side of harts river. he and his people belong to the same tribe as monkuruan. the town, or kraal, is very pleasantly situated amongst the hills, which are thickly covered with low underwood. the other petty captains, living within the country first described, are moshette, of the baralong tribe, who, with his people, live about nine miles from taung, at kunanna; the chief matlabane, of the bamairi branch of the batlapiu tribe, whose kraal is six miles from taung, on the hills about it. the chief matlibe and his people live at taung, and they are of the batlapin tribe also. the petty captain, jantze, of the batlapin, previous to the annexation of the diamond-fields, lived at a large kraal, lekatlong, on the banks of the harts river, near its junction with the vaal, but afterwards he removed, with his people, to myneering, about thirty miles south of kuruman. young gasebone lived at dekong, on the same branch as that passing taung, which i recollect perfectly well, for he stole out of my waggon thirty pounds of coffee, on my third visit there, in , and then politely offered to drive my waggon through a very stony drift on my leaving his station. at kuruman is moshette. at bakelaris, which is eighteen miles on the north from kuruman, is the chief barhakie, and brother to moshette. to the north, eighty miles from bakelaris, is morequerne, where there are three petty captains, makobie, makutse, and marketchwar, an old blind man; his people told me he was more than years old, but they did not understand age; he died shortly afterwards. eighteen miles to the north-west of morequerne is conge, another large station, which is on the border of the kalahara desert; and to the west, and south, towards kuruman, is the kraal at mynyam, near honey vlei, a large sheet of water. cooe station is to the west of the vlei, but near it, forty miles south, is tsinin station; comopere twelve miles south of the last, and twelve miles west of bakclaris. on the east again we come to several kraals--matetong, kopong, and tokong are the principal. there are many others of less note, all with their head-men. on the west of kurutnan, under the langberg range of mountains, are gamapoope, molanwan, kamasap, puruhulu, tuten, lukin, and zitburn. one of the chiefs is tatu. consequently, all this part of the country is thickly populated by the bechuana family, all under petty chiefs and captains. south of kuruman is kobis, koning, myneering, and marseipa, and with their outlying posts for cattle, sheep, and bucks, make it an important and valuable region for the british government to protect and secure from foreign invasion, as it is contiguous to griqualand west along the whole of its northern border. the extent of this portion of bechuanaland above-named, south of the chief montsioa territory, is from the transvaal on the east to langberg on the west-- miles by nearly north and south, or , square miles. and when i first knew the country, twenty years ago, it was nearly unknown to the white man, except the missionaries, who had their stations at kuruman, lekatlong, bakclaris, and matetong, and some half-dozen traders passing through kuruman, from hope town, in the cape colony, to the bechuana chiefs living to the north. this little-known region then was one of the most pleasant and agreeable parts of africa to visit and explore. the natives, more particularly at kuruman and those to the north, were most friendly and kind. like all native tribes, they do not forget to beg of the white man. down towards the south, in mahura's time, the people were troublesome, and much less civil in their behaviour to strangers. i think i experienced more annoyance because they took me to be a boer, noting down all their watering-places, and on one occasion i was in great danger in consequence. skins well-brayed was the only material for their clothes; the men had long cloaks, which, when thrown over the shoulders, reached the ground. the women had short wrappers round their loins, hanging down behind and very scanty in front; in cold weather they also had leather mantles. but at the present time they have to a great extent adopted the european mode of dress, and deal extensively in almost every kind of english merchandise. from cultivating little or no corn, which was the woman's work, they now go in extensively for ploughs, which the men use, and instead of growing mealies, which is maize or indian corn, and a few melons, they now produce wheat, barley, and oats, which they grow in their beautiful valleys and sell to traders for english goods, and in addition they breed herds of cattle, goats and sheep. many of the men buy the best english clothing, and some of the women, particularly the young ones, indulge in cotton prints and even silk for their dresses, and are very proud if they can obtain stylish boots. the schools also have greatly improved the people. the advance in civilisation within the last twenty years has been remarkable. they are, as a people, timid and for from being fond of war. their language is sechuanse, which is soft and pleasant to the ear. they have natural mechanical talent, and make good carpenters, smiths, and masons. their houses show great ingenuity in their construction, particularly in the formation and design of their granaries for storing their winter corn, which are quite artistic in form. many of these are built up in the centre of a large hut made of clay, shaped like our water-bottles, in diameter ten feet in the largest part, gradually reduced in size to three feet at the top, total height ten feet, which will hold many hundred bushels of corn. no mice, snakes, or other animal can get in to destroy the grain. a store is kept separate for each family, quite distinct from their living huts. they are very expert in metal, melting the ore for the manufacture of ornaments, assagais, kaffir picks, and such things as they require. they also make very neat mantles, karosses and other kinds of materials for the women, the men being the tailors and dressmakers for the tribe. time being no object, their work is beautifully executed, as may be seen from the karosses brought to england; many of them sold as high as ten pounds. they are also very fond of music; they make various kinds of instruments which produce pleasing sounds. the young men form themselves into bands to the number of twenty to thirty, called the reed band--reeds from six to eight feet in length with holes similar to the flute, but held upright in front of each musician--forming a circle like our military bands, and perform tunes. the women and children walk round on the outside singing and clapping hands in time to the music. this performance generally begins about sundown, and is kept up for several hours. the interior of their huts and yards outside where they cook, which are surrounded by a high fence made of sticks, are kept remarkably clean and tidy, and their iron utensils also receive their share of attention. many of these bechuanas are rich in cattle, sheep, and goats. they have their cattle-posts away in the bush, where the stock is looked after, cows milked, and once or twice a week a pack-ox is loaded up with skins of milk and taken to the kraal for use. these "vieh-posts" are in charge of their slaves, called vaalpans. they are the bushmen of the country kept in subjection by the bechuana tribe, and are a very harmless and quiet people, the only drawback to their liberty being they cannot leave their masters' service; otherwise they have full liberty of action. they are of a darker colour and different in form to the cape bushmen. the bechuanas throughout south central africa possess waggons, and have spans of oxen and everything complete like the colonists, and go trading with english goods amongst their neighbours like any white trader. they also bring down from their homes, wood, corn, and vegetables for sale to the diamond-fields, and are far more beneficial and useful in the country than the boers. they are outstepping them in civilisation, and if they had white skins, would be looked upon as a superior race. they have been kept down for want of opportunity to rise above their present condition. this extensive race, as i have already stated, extends from the cape colony to the zambese, throughout the whole of bechuanaland, and are in habit and customs the same wherever they live, the same language and its dialects. the females, like all other nations of the world, have their fashions, and vary according to the country in which they live. some of the young girls shave all the wool from their heads except on the crown, leaving about three inches in diameter, which they anoint with red clay, plumbago, and grease, giving a very sparkling and shining appearance to it that is very becoming, and even makes the young girls look pretty, as many of them at that age have a pleasing and intellectual expression; their short kilt is so arranged that the upper and lower borders should have the white fringe of hair of the springbok skin to look like a border of deep lace, which against the light rich brown hair of the other part is very becoming, and sets the figure off to great advantage. they quite understand being complimented upon their good looks, and can carry on a flirtation with admirable tact. where this is more perceptible, is far away from the demoralising influence of other tribes who have come in contact with the boers and other white people. the more isolated they are from such influence, the more i have always found them respectful in their manner to strangers. i am referring to the bechuana family in general. the principal roads through this part of the country to the interior pass through hope town in the cape colony to kuruman, the mission station where the rev. robert moffat spent forty-five years of his life in missionary labour, which station has been largely increased by the addition of an extensive college erected of late years at a great expense for the teaching of native youths for missionary purposes. the site is admirably situated, having an unlimited supply of the purest water from a spring some few miles above the station, which issues from a cave in the side of the hill in a picturesque locality. the mission houses and church of the london missionary society are substantial and well-built, and have fine gardens well stocked with fruit trees, and the orange and lemon grow to great perfection. mr. chapman, who has a large store, takes great interest in his garden, and grows every kind of vegetable known in england. twenty years ago there were several stores; three at upper kuruman, about a mile from the mission station. the bold outline of the lofty range of hills at the back of kuruman, distant some six miles, adds greatly to the beauty of the adjoining country, which is undulating and well-wooded, with open plains and kaffir gardens, and is one of the most healthy parts of south central africa. the roads from kuruman branch off in every direction to the several natives' towns. the main transport road from kuruman and diamond-fields goes to maceby station on the molapo, in the chief montsoia territory, and very pretty roads to travel over. on leaving the station there are several small kraals on the road to kopong, which is a large native town situated on the matlarin, a tributary of the kuruman river, which latter flows past bakclaris, and then south, past comopere, from thence through a wild uninhabited country for miles, where it joins the hygap river, which is the lower portion of the molapo. the main road continues on from kopong, through a fine forest of kameel-doorn trees for many miles, then enters upon open veldt, passing little and great brack-pans to the setlakoole and moretsane rivers, then bush again to maceby's station pitsan; the distance between kuruman and that town is miles. several roads branch off from it to different parts; one goes to melemas on the molapo, another to marico, and also others to monkuruan's at taungs. maamuosa, where the koranna captain moshoen and his people live, a bad and wicked tribe, who have been helping the boers lately to make war on monkuruan, and whose land the boers have taken from him. the principal main transport road from the cape colony and diamond-fields runs direct to taungs in a north-east direction to maceby's and then north, which has by the late convention with the transvaal been preserved. there are no very lofty hills in this part of bechuanaland. the principal ones are those at kuruman, those near taungs and swaatberg. the average elevation is about feet above the sea-level. the northern portion is more open, extensive plains and forests of the mimosa tree; and has many brack-pans, where in the summer wild geese and ducks come in great numbers. the game when i first travelled through these parts swarmed on the open flats. blesbok and springbok, hartebeest, quaggas, gnus or wildebeest, the black and the blue; the latter is a much finer animal, the skin is also of more value. the koodoo is found in the hills. then there are several other antelopes, such as the steinbok, found all over africa. these at the time i state, if it were possible to count them, would exceed , to be seen from the waggon at one time, a complete forest of horns, and as they feed off the grass until it is too short, they move away to another district. of course lions, wolves, and jackals were very numerous and kept up their howls all night. the wild dog (hyena venatica) could be seen in packs of several hundred, crossing the plains in pursuit of game--they are a pretty animal with large rounded ears, large bushy tail, whitish face, long black and white hair, tall and slender. they always hunt in packs. on one of my journeys, having to cross these plains, i came upon several hundred of them in one of the slight hollows. on nearing them, for the road ran directly past where they had been having a grand feast off springbok, as remains of them were still unconsumed, some of them were lying in the road i was travelling, and would hardly get out of my way, others stood looking as we passed between them. fortunately they had been having their meal, otherwise i think my span of oxen would have fared badly, for there must have been over . with so many making an attack on a span of oxen, guns would have been of little use, if they were hungry. i have often seen forty and fifty in a pack in full cry, after blesbok or springbok, and a beautiful sight it is. wolves also were seen, seven and eight together. at a small pan on these plains, in a hollow, with high reeds surrounding it, i, one afternoon, outspanned, intending to remain there the night, as there was an extensive pan near, with very steep banks down to it, where i intended, the next day, to look for ancient implements, as i had previously found some there before. i sent one of my kaffir boys down to this pan, only a short distance from the waggon, for water. he was very quickly back, looking quite scared, and cried out there were wolves in the pan. our rifles were soon out of the waggon, and cartridges for a few shots if necessary. i started with my bushman and hottentot driver, all armed. as he said, the pan seemed full of them; when within fifty yards, some of the wolves broke cover and were making for some bushes; two were shot, others escaped at the sound of our rifles. we could see them moving about in the long reeds, and fired at every opportunity, killing in all seven; four of them were the largest i had ever seen; their heads were immense, and between the ears measured seven inches. they are large and powerful animals, but great cowards. lions would be heard nightly round the waggon, whenever i outspanned in one particular district near the moretsane or setlakoole rivers, which seemed a favourite resort for them. all this state of things has passed away. the game has been shot and driven away more into the desert, wolves nearly all poisoned, and in crossing any of those extensive plains and open flats, a few hundred may be counted, where before tens of thousands covered the veldt in all directions. then it was a great pleasure to travel through the country for sport alone, in addition to the enjoyment of passing through a beautiful country teeming with game. at the present time, to go over the same ground with not a living thing to be seen, it becomes monotonous. close to that pretty isolated hill, swaatberg, are the ruins of a very ancient town, kunam: whether built by kaffirs or the race that built the other stone huts, mentioned in a previous chapter, there is no history to prove. there are many strange tales handed down to the present generation of its being one large town, the seat of a powerful chief, and of some great battles having been fought there. the ruins indicate it to have been at some remote period a large town. near it are extensive pans, that at one time must have held water to a great depth, as the banks and cliffs clearly prove; now only in the summer months water is found in them. not far from them there are some dried-up springs, the water of which was conveyed away by a sluit passing into the moretsane. one day we had fixed our camp at a very pretty spot close to some fine trees and bush, had made all fast for the night, and were sitting by the fire before going to bed, the kaffir boys having their supper, when we were startled by a rush of large animals passing close to our camp-fires, on both sides of us. the night being very dark, we could only distinguish, by the light from our fire, that an immense herd of blesbok was amongst us. we had our rifles in hand in a moment and fired into a dense mass of them. when they passed away we found three dead upon the ground. my hottentot and boys ran to bring them in, when a solitary blesbok rushed up to the fire and there stood quite exhausted, and some thirty yards in the rear were several animals moving about, but i could not distinguish, from the flickering light, if wolves or wild dogs, that had chased the poor animal until it could run no more. we all ran out with our rifles, but with caution, in case any lions might be amongst them. as they did not go away, evidently exhausted also with the long chase, we had a good chance of getting some, and succeeded in killing two. the others in the mean time made off. lighting the lantern to bring them in, we found them to be very fine and powerful wild dogs. by this time the blesbok had recovered from the hard run, and took himself off. my driver wanted to kill him, but i said, "no; he sought our protection, and he shall have it." it is wonderful they should seek man's protection when all other hope of self-preservation seems gone. i have known small birds fly to my waggon and into it, on several occasions when pursued by hawks. this is more than instinct; there is some reasoning power in animals when they seek shelter from foes where they know they will not follow them. foxes we know act in the same manner. in the morning, on examining the spoor, there must have been many wild dogs engaged in the chase, but they were stopped at the sight of the two fires and waggons, and our shots at the blesbok as they passed us. in the small grove of trees under which our camp was pitched, we founded several very large chameleons measuring fifteen inches in length. we discovered them by hearing a noise on one of the branches, caused by a fight between two of the largest, which we caught, but gave them their liberty before leaving. i also, during my explorations, made a collection of many kinds of the mantis family, commonly called in africa, hottentot gods, as they always appear to be praying, having their two arms held as if in that act; their four legs are used for locomotion. they feed themselves with their hands. i made a collection of forty-seven different kinds, those with wings and those wingless, both kinds having well-developed bodies. then there is a third kind without bodies, called walking-sticks, each kind having four legs, two arms and hands. i made twenty-two collections of the winged; the largest measured eleven inches in length, brown bodies and lovely purple wings, two on each side, two horns on the head a little over an inch in length, large eyes, with a mouth similar to a wasp's, with flat head and neck four inches in length, from the lower part of which the two arms spring. the four legs were fixed in the centre of the body; the smallest size with wings measured one and a half inches in length; each size differed somewhat in shape. i put one of these, which measured six inches, green on the back and yellow underneath, with silvery wings, into a paper-collar box. one afternoon, on looking at it half an hour afterwards, i found it had woven a nest on to the side, composed of silky and light-brown material, and the insect appeared quite dead or in a torpid state. putting the box away, i forgot to look at it for several months; when i opened the box i found upwards of young ones, all dead, each about one-eighth of an inch in length. the greater portion of my specimens i caught in my waggon at night when my candle was burning and my fore-sail up, being like the moths attracted by the light. the wingless ones i found on bushes or in the grass. the third kind, the walking-stick, i always found in the grass. the first time i caught one was when i was collecting some beetles. i saw, as i thought, a piece of live grass moving along. sitting down on the ground to watch it, i found it had four legs, which moved very slowly, and two in front that stuck straight out in line with the body. carefully observing its movements, i saw at once it was a very strange kind of insect. taking a piece of grass to lift it from the ground, the thing showed fight at once by raising its head, opening and shutting its mouth, drawing up its two long arms from the straight position, and striking out at the grass i held to its head. the colour was exactly that of the long dry grass in which it was moving--yellow. length of body and neck, fourteen inches, and the size of a small straw; the legs were very long--five inches; the knee-joint half-way up; the arms had two joints--the regular elbow, and two-thirds of the distance another that doubled up, so that it could pick the food and carry it to its mouth. these again vary in size and colour from one inch in length to the size above described. the female is much larger than the male, which is a light-brown, the former of a sea-green colour. i think the mantis and the trap-door spider the most curious of the insect-world in south africa. many specimens of moths i collected in my waggon after dark, some of them very beautiful; the larger kinds i mostly found in the long grass on the plains. butterflies were very plentiful in some parts, in others rarely any would be seen; each locality had its peculiar species. the wasps also amused me when standing in any particular locality for some time; the large black with purple wings was a constant visitor. when about making a nest to lay their eggs, they would fly into my waggon, examine every part minutely, and after fixing upon a particular corner, would fly away and return with a ball of mud the size of a pea, and commence to plaster the side of the waggon fixed upon. this would go on for two or three days, the two wasps, male and female, bringing in these little balls of mud, going and returning every minute until it was completed, leaving a little circular hole to each cavity in the clay nest, one-eighth of an inch in diameter when so completed. they would commence with one of the holes, there being five; the female would deposit the eggs, then the two would go out and return with a green caterpillar each, which they would push into the hole containing the eggs, then leave and return with balls of clay, and plaster up the hole so cleverly that it would be impossible to find it from the outside. the same labour was bestowed upon the other compartment of the nest, and when completed would be left for time to bring forth the young. two other kinds of wasps were of quite a different shape, their slender bodies extended for half an inch, leaving a large egg-shaped ball at the end. these made exactly the same form of nest as the one described. a fourth kind, i noticed, would build their nest in the roofs of buildings; these would be suspended by a thin stem of a glutinous nature, upon which would be fixed from five to twenty cells similar to those of the bee. there have been eight and ten of all these kinds of nests in my waggon at one time, and during the intense heat of the weather, degrees and sometimes degrees in the shade, being too hot to move about, i have amused myself in watching the methodical way in which they so cleverly and beautifully completed their work, and in so short a time. the bees generally make their nests in old hollow trees, which we discovered through the honey-bird leading us to one. when one of these birds wants to attract attention, it soon makes its presence known, and becomes impatient, if not attended to, flying round about with its little twitter and call, which is well known. when it sees you are following it, it flies from branch to branch in a straight line to the nest; when there, it stops, and you soon see the nest. the kaffir will go fearlessly to work, the bees buzzing about him when taking out the honeycomb, he rarely being stung. the common black crow, with white about the neck, is also a friendly bird, of the same size as our english. they generally come and settle near the outspan, waiting for the camp to break up, then come and look for what may be left. they talk in their throat as well as caw, and can be taught like a parrot to speak. i tamed a young one; he would not sleep in the waggon, but early in the morning he would come and settle on the front part of the waggon, where he could raise the fore-sail to look in. on seeing me in bed he would come in, hop up to my face, take hold of my nose, or have a peck at my beard, look round to examine the things hanging on the sides, then hop out. on my getting up and leaving the waggon he would be seen flying from some tree, and come and settle on my hat or shoulder; if the latter, he would put his head round and rub his beak against my face. there are other crows quite black, more like ravens, but not so large. another time i was staying at a boer farm for three weeks to have my waggon repaired; in the early day i walked over to a boer farm, about a mile from my outspan, to examine some quartz reefs, where i found a few specks of gold on a former journey. at this farm there was a beautiful crane, belonging to old john nell, the farmer. i tried to make friends by making the same kind of sounds that he kept repeating, but he took no apparent notice. on leaving to walk back to the waggon with my rifle, this crane followed me all the way, keeping about three yards behind, where he remained by my camp a short time, then flew home. every day after he paid me a visit. one afternoon i took my rifle for a ramble round in the thick bush veldt to look for a waterbok. when about a mile from my waggon i heard a great rush. looking round i found it was my friend the crane. he settled down in front, then came and walked on my left side, just beyond my reach, keeping close for some distance, then on a sudden he took flight and rose in the air, making long circular sweeps, until he passed behind some small clouds and became again visible, until he was lost in the distance. thinking no more of him, i continued my walk for half an hour, and was returning home, when the same kind of rush was heard, and looking up i saw him pass close to me, and settle on the ground about thirty yards in front; he then took his place by my side as before, and accompanied me home, and then flew back to the farm. i mention these incidents to show there is something more than instinct in all living things. the country round this part of monkuruan territory, and in fact all africa, swarms with every kind of ant, from the smallest size up to three-quarters of an inch in length, each kind having their own peculiar form of nest, more particularly the destructive white ant, which causes so much damage to buildings and furniture; the construction of their nests differs in different latitudes. in the cape colony, natal, orange free state, and lower part of the transvaal, the veldt is covered with these hills, in the shape of a ball cut in halves and placed on the ground; the average size is four feet in diameter by two feet in height; many of them have been scooped out by ant-bears. the dutch women, in travelling, frequently make use of these holes, by turning them into ovens to bake their bread for the road. more to the north, instead of being round, they form a kind of peak, with holes on the topmost points, some exceeding in height twenty feet. north of this again the ground is raised some two feet by ten to fifteen in diameter. on the centre part chimneys are built up, many exceeding four feet in height, by nearly three feet in circumference; the opening is nearly a foot in diameter, the top terminating in a cup-like form, in three distinct layers, one above the other, forming quite an ornamental termination to the chimney beautifully constructed. on looking down, hundreds of these tiny masons may be seen plastering and repairing the inside coating, which may have received damage from rain. there is always one large chimney, and sometimes one or two smaller ones close to it, and at the base some twenty or thirty small ones, three inches to a foot in height, and three and four inches in diameter, and many small holes round about, where the ants are busy taking in their food, small pieces of dried grass, and other things, never making use of the chimneys as a means for supplying their cells with food. they are, i believe, erected as ventilators to give air below, as the cavity beneath must be as large as a small room, and in some eases larger, as a waggon fell into one. a road had been made near molapo, over one of these disused nests, and in a boer waggon was travelling in the night, as is their usual practice. the front oxen had gone over it, the ground gave way with the after oxen, but they managed to get on firm ground; the weight of the waggon broke the top surface, and only the desselboom on the opposite side getting fixed, kept the two fore-wheels and waggon suspended over the hole, a boer woman and three children narrowly escaping from falling into the pit. i followed up the next morning, when the boer and others were getting the waggon mended; bushes were then put round the hole and the road turned. if i had passed over this road before that waggon i should have met the same fate. as a whole, the roads in all parts of monkuruan territory, and in fact throughout south central africa, are very good, considering they are never repaired; many of them rough and stony, but as they are mere natural tracks made by waggons, it is surprising they are in such good condition. the population of this district, including all the various tribes, does not exceed , , exclusive of bushmen, and they do not number more than . chapter seven. bechuanaland. the territory of the chief montsioa, of the baralongs. this country is situated on the north of monkuruan. the boundaries are common to both, from the transvaal, down west to that range of mountains running north, the continuation of the langberg; beyond is the kalahara desert, of which this western portion forms part. its northern boundary joins the chief gaseitsive, and the transvaal is on the east. the length from east to west is miles, and from north to south seventy miles. the malapo, or the mafeking river, rises in the transvaal, flows west, through the entire length of this territory, continuing on in the same direction, receiving the two dry rivers, the nosop and onp, then turns south at the great bend, under the name of hygap, and enters the orange at kakaman's drift; there are but few branches in its course. the eastern portion of this country is valuable and productive, suitable for any kind of vegetation. when the british government settled the keats award boundary, they confirmed montsioa's title to the ground on the west of it. at that time, , montsioa and many of his people were living at moshanen, a kaffir station in gaseitsive's territory, situated eighteen miles to the west of kanya, the seat of that chief. but after the settlement of the award he removed down to his own country, and settled at his town, sehuba, which has since been burnt by the boers, and was six miles south of the molapo river, and the same distance from the large kraal on its banks, under the petty chief melema, on molapo, who was his nephew; and eighteen miles below, and on the river, was the large kraal under maceby. the population numbered some , souls, including the kuruman district; but since the transvaal boers have made war on these people, after the retrocession of that state, nearly half have been killed and made prisoners. the country has fine grazing-lands, and some parts are well-wooded. there are extensive vleis and pans; the people cultivate corn extensively, use ploughs, and had large herds of cattle, sheep, and goats, now stolen by the boers. montsioa belongs to the baralong tribe of the bechuana family; he and his people have always been loyal to the english government, and during the transvaal rebellion many loyal boers fled to him for protection, and were hospitably received. the people are in their habits and customs similar to those in monkuruan's country. montsioa is a quiet, well-disposed chief, and has been cruelly used by the boers for his loyalty to england; one of his sons, and most of his brave men, have been shot down like dogs, and his women and their children killed in cold blood, and many of them taken into captivity, all for keeping true and loyal. he has been shamefully and disgracefully forsaken, and left to battle alone against these murdering freebooters, who were supported by the transvaal government, and supplied with guns and ammunition to carry on their unholy war, and now he has lost the greater portion of his people, and nearly all his cattle and property. the british government, moved by the voice of the english people and our loyals at the cape, at the eleventh hour sent out a force under major-general sir charles warren, to see justice done him. will they compel the boers to return the stolen property, and the women and children they have taken into the transvaal as slaves, for they will be nothing less? will they deliver up the murderers of mr. bethel and others? never was a more cruel and unjust war made against people than this, by a people professing christianity, who have, by their cold-blooded and atrocious acts, stamped themselves as a nation of murderers and robbers, and for such acts they are not worthy of retaining the transvaal as an independent country. it is useless for that government to deny any complicity in these wars, they are well known to have been the promoters--there is evidence sufficient to prove this. i was told by some of the influential boers in pretoria, soon after peace was restored, and the first convention made, in july , that they intended to go and punish montsioa and monkuruan, by driving them out of their territories and taking their land, for their loyalty to england in protecting loyal boers. as they stated, "we will not have these natives on our border who have helped you english," showing what their intention was as soon as they were confirmed in their republic. i have deemed it necessary to state these facts, that the english people may know in any future dealings with whom they have to meet. in the settlement of the keats award the land was confirmed to montsioa. there is an extensive hill of metamorphic formation on his eastern boundary, but which may now be included in the transvaal by the recent convention, which has in its centre, on the summit, the remains of an extinct volcano; the vent is about yards in diameter, the highest point is feet above sea-level, and stands on the central watershed. there is an opening for the escape of the lava, which appears to have travelled some miles down a valley on the south-east. this lava, or boiling mud, has several vents on the exterior, the central opening is level, and on one side many bones are embedded in the rock. it is an interesting formation. the western division of montsioa's territory is more open on the south side of the molapo river, but more wooded on the northern. it was one of my favourite hunting-grounds in my early visits, as game at that time swarmed over those extensive plains, and with a horse they were easily shot; but it was dangerous riding, as there are so many wolf-holes, ant-bear, porcupine, armadillo, spring-hare, and meercat, partly hidden by long grass, that a horse at full speed cannot always escape them, which frequently ends in a broken collarbone or a broken rifle. many of the antelope species are very subject to bransick, and hundreds die; their bones may be seen lying about in every direction, consequently it is a great resort for vultures and eagles, who are constantly on the look-out for those who have not many days to live. if a wildebeest or blesbok has this complaint, and is not likely to live many days, he is found standing alone, and surrounded by half a hundred of these birds waiting patiently till he drops, then they commence upon him before he is quite dead, his eyes being first taken, and in less than half an hour there is very little left to be eaten. many believe the vultures or eagles discover their food only by their splendid sight; my experience proves that scent has more to do with it. during my travels in these wilds i have had almost daily opportunity of observing their mode of discovering any dead animal that may be exposed in the open. these birds are almost constantly on the wing; the exception is when they have gorged until they can eat no more. then they rest on the ground or some stone koppie, until they have to some extent digested their food, to enable them to fly. many times i have ridden up to them and given them a cut with my riding-whip to make them fly, which they are incapable of doing from over-feeding. when an animal dies, the scent is driven by the wind and ascends many thousand feet, and is carried along with it. if any of these birds are to be seen on the wing, they almost always fly in circles, making long sweeps in their course; this will take up any scent that may be in the air. in watching them closely it is easy to see when they have got the scent, and when they lose it, as is often the case if they make too great a circle. there may be sometimes from to performing these graceful circular flights, some one way and some another. being at a great altitude-- yards--when they smell the carrion, they are, if the wind is strong, more than a mile away from the animal, and as they fly round they gradually work up to windward, until the object is visible; then they do not come down at once, but appear to make a survey of the surroundings before coming down to feast on the carcass. i have may times seen them come down wind, pass directly over a dead beast unnoticed, until they have got into the current of air on the down side, when they have worked back until they could see the animal on the ground. their splendid sight will lead them to the spot after a time, but their quick sense of smell is the first indication that there is a grand feast for them. of all birds i think the vulture is the most graceful in its flight, with its immense wings, which measure from tip to tip seven and sometimes nine feet, extended without a movement as they circle in the air. one day i was out on foot after some blue wildebeest, with my rifle, near the dry pan bakillara; i came upon about of these birds, who were too late for a feast upon a buck, the bones of which had already been picked quite clean, when they took flight and disappeared. knowing their habits so well, and that more would shortly come, i walked about yards away to a wildebeest hole, which that animal scrapes to sleep in. there i laid down as if dead, putting my rifle out of sight; i wanted to see what they would do if they saw me. in about ten minutes several flew overhead to the dead animal, eyeing me as they passed, with their heads on one side, and about fifty yards over me; many of them commenced their circular flight to have another look to see if i were dead. nearly half an hour was passed in this way without the slightest movement on my part, when dozens of them began to settle on the ground forty yards away, but afraid to come nearer; others would make a swoop down within a dozen yards of me and pass on; when upwards of fifty had settled down, finding they would not come to pick my bones, and getting tired of my position, i jumped up with a great shout, when they took wing and in less than two minutes were out of sight. the black eagle is more frequently seen here than in any other part of africa, in consequence, i suppose, of food being plentiful. i shot one out of four that settled near my waggon one afternoon, when my driver was skinning a wolf he had shot. when sitting on the ground it measured two feet four inches to the shoulder, and its wings from tip to tip nine feet five inches. two years ago i shot a white eagle; the wings measured nearly ten feet. i tried to preserve them, but did not succeed. all kinds of hawks, some very large, and the large horned owl are common in this part of the desert, as also some of the smaller species. snakes also are plentiful: the most common is the puffadder, which grows to a large size; two i killed measured three feet each. the cobra-de-capello and also the python are common. one i shot measured sixteen feet two inches, but there are some larger. this one had an entire steinbok in it; they are more numerous near vleis. lizards, salamanders, and many small snakes are seen amongst the stones and rocks. scorpions of a dark colour have been killed eleven inches in length. this part of the country the greater part of the year is short of water, but in the molapo it can be obtained by digging a few feet in the bed of the river, which is sand. if proper attention is paid to improvements, this part may be made valuable and productive. many bushman families live on the north side of the river, of the bakillihara tribe, quite distinct from the masare bushman. they have small cattle-posts belonging to the bechuanas, but others are free, seldom stationary. the old mission station at mosega, situate on a branch of the klein marico, was abandoned in , as also malatza, by the revs. ingles and edwards, the boers not allowing them to remain. all that portion of montsioa's territory is quite equal to any part of the cape colony for richness of soil and growth of corn and vegetables, splendid grazing-land for cattle, and well supplied with water from fountains, with good roads. several lions were killed on the molapo twelve years ago; two young ones were captured and brought up by m. ludic, a bastard, and afterwards sold for five pounds, and sent to england. there were many bastards at the time i first passed through, which i frequently had occasion to do on my journeys, and found them very civil and kind. indeed, it would be difficult to find a class of people more attentive and well-disposed towards travellers than this class, so that it was quite a pleasure to meet them. they are good mechanics, and can repair a waggon as well as any colonial waggon-maker, as i have found when anything was required to be done to mine. on the south of this territory, between it and the transvaal, is that small slip of country under the petty captain moshette, part of which is included in the transvaal by the late convention between the british government and that republic. this petty captain and the koranna captain moshoen have been the tools of the transvaal government to make war on monkuruan and montsioa, and it serves them right that they should lose their country. moshoen lives at his large station at maamuosa, situated on a white sandstone hill close to the harts river; this stone is used by mill-owners for grinding their corn. the most unfrequented part of montsioa's country is that through which the river molapo runs, to the westward of maceby's station, the course of which has already been described in the river system. eighteen years ago the plains swarmed with game, and lions also. i was travelling down from kanya through the desert to maceby, on my way to conge kraal, north of morequern. at maceby's there were boers, each with a waggon, going to morequern; the road i was travelling was the same. one of them, whom i had met before, asked if we should trek together, which was agreed to, until the roads separated seventy-five miles on, the distance to conge being miles; the only objection i had, was that they travelled at night, but as there were some very nasty places along the road and we could assist each other in case of accident, i agreed. on the third night from maceby's, we were travelling along over an open country, my waggon was the third in the line, and a dutchman was the last; the night was stormy with a high wind, and very dark. soon after inspanning in the evening, we knew lions were following us, but this occurs so often that we took no notice of it. but about eleven o'clock the oxen in all the waggons became very restless, and our foreloopers had difficulty to keep them on the road, calling out that lions were close. the boer behind my waggon had no forelooper, there was only himself with the waggon, which was empty. i was sitting on my waggon-box with my driver, and the forelooper leading the oxen. soon after eleven we heard the after-waggon and oxen leave the road and make a rush across the veldt, towards a dry bed of a river, and heard the boer call out to us to stop, which we did as soon as i could make those in front understand the case. we held to, and listened, but heard no sound of the boer or anything else. the wind and rain coming on, we three, with our waggons, drew up in a line, and fastened the oxen to the trektow and waited until daylight, for it was useless and also very dangerous to go walking about in the veldt amongst low bushes, to look for the boer or his waggon, where lions seemed to swarm; besides, we had as much as we could do to keep the lions from making an attack on our own oxen. as soon as the first sings of daylight approached, the two boers, a son, and myself, took our rifles and followed the spoor of the last waggon, which we found upset in the dry river, about yards from the road, killing six of the oxen in the fall, and the other six had cleared themselves from their yokes, and strayed away out of sight, but no man was to be seen. going back on the line the waggon took, we found the man's hat and some distance beyond his long ox-whip, and a little blood, not far from it. there was then no doubt about his disappearance; the oxen had bolted, and the man to turn them on to the road had jumped off the waggon, when a lion had seized and carried him off. as the sun was now above the horizon, we gave orders for our boys to outspan, and then hastened on in the direction the lion's spoor showed us he had gone. there was here and there blood on the grass, which led to a small clump of bushes and stones; here we found part of the remains and clothes, which were all torn to shreds, of the poor man, but no signs of the lions, for there must have been several by the footprints in the sand. we sent to the waggon for a spade and buried the remains of what small portion was left, and then took up the spoor,--to settle accounts with the lions,--which followed along a dry watercourse, which was crossed, and under a sand-bank with high grass we came upon them, a lion and lioness, and a young one, comfortably reposing. the two boers and myself--all good shots--made very short work of the affair, knowing what they had done. it was arranged not to fire until we could make a dead shot, and all to fire at the lion; two in the first instance, the third to be ready if he showed fight, whilst the other two reloaded; but as the dutchmen's rifles carried heavy bullets,--eight to the pound,--their two shots did the work, for when the lion rose up to have a look at us, throwing back his ears and showing his teeth, both bullets entered his chest and he fell, but not quite dead; my third bullet in the region of his heart finished him. we then turned upon the lioness, who gave us much trouble before we could have an opportunity of a good shot; her endeavour was to escape, but this we could not quite agree to; however, a shot in the shoulder, and another in the neck, stopped her making any further attempt to get away, and enabled us to get up and complete the work. the boers wanted the skins, which would delay us the day, therefore i went back to my waggon for breakfast, thinking it was no bad bag for so early in the morning. but before doing so we searched every bush and cover for the young lion without success; but in the afternoon, when the two kaffir boys were skinning the lioness, the young one was seen not far off, and the kaffir shot him. we then went down to the river to see what could be done with the waggon, the dead oxen, and those that had strayed away into the bush. after a time they were found and brought back; the waggon was too much smashed to remove. it had fallen over a steep bank fifteen feet deep. the boers wanted to save the skins and the flesh of the dead oxen, which would take time, and as i could do no more good i arranged to start the next morning. we all took care to collect plenty of wood for great fires to be kept alight, and it was well we did, for we were serenaded with the lions' music all the night; the surroundings seemed full of them, and also with wolves and jackals; the smell of the dead oxen brought them to our locality. however, bidding my friends good-bye, after breakfast i left for conge. the second day after leaving them, we saw several lions as we passed along, but they were a long way from the waggon. in the afternoon, the next day, about yards on our right from the road, we counted no less than seventeen large and small lions, some of them playing, others lying and sitting down; they took no notice of us, merely looked as we passed along, and we at them. we made a long trek after that, to get as far as we could from them before night, for however pretty they are to look at in their wild and native home, their proximity to the waggon on a dark night is not conducive to a good night's rest. in four days after this we arrived at conge, without seeing any more. i remained at this station two days, then left for morequern. the chief and many of his people came to the waggon, with pumpkins, watermelons, milk, and eggs. i never met with a more quiet and orderly and well-behaved people than these bechuanas. very few traders visited these parts then. there was one after this who frequented this part of the country, and who blew himself up in his waggon, together with the missionary from matetong and some twenty kaffirs. this was the last missionary that lived at that station, the house and grounds are in ruins, but there are some very fine willow trees still standing planted by messrs. moffat and campbell when the mission was first established. conge is eighteen miles from morequern; the road the whole way is fearfully stony; a pan half-way is noted for guinea-fowl. the next day i arrived at morequern, where i had to repair my waggon. a large pan divides two large kraals; on the east side an old blind chief lives, makalawar or makutse, a baralong, and on the west, maksetse. as it would take some few days before the waggon would be ready, and as all the people at these large stations had always been kind to me whenever i came amongst them, i determined to send out an invitation to all the young kaffir girls and young kaffirs to a big dance. they were to come in their full dress costume. the reed band was engaged. the performance was to wind up with a large ox roasted whole, to be washed down with kaffir beer. three o'clock was the appointed time, at a large open space by my waggon. long before that i had half the people round me, including little children. the young girls came decked out with a profusion of beads worked upon well-brayed leather, forming aprons, bracelets, necklaces, in every variety of form and design, very beautifully executed; bands of beads round their woolly heads and long pendants of beads for earrings setting them off to great advantage, each coming to me to show their finery, and seeming delighted to be praised for their good looks and fine ornaments, for invariably when young they have beautiful figures and expressive features. the young men also came dressed in their best clothes. the old people, with their chief and his counsellors, came to look on. in all about assembled to do honour to the feast, and great rejoicings and fun characterised the meeting. two reed bands came, thirty in each. dancing and music commenced at four p.m. and continued up to feeding-time, when the ox was sufficiently roasted. men were told off to cut up and divide it amongst the people. nearly little fires were made for parties to form round them, for kaffirs can do nothing without a fire. kaffir corn was cooked in pots in addition to the meat for their feast, and at nine p.m. dancing, music, and talking recommenced with undiminished joyousness, whilst, to complete the evening, i had a scramble from my waggon of a variety of articles of use to them--handkerchiefs, tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and other things, which caused an immense amusement. at twelve o'clock i told them to go home, for i must sleep; and in less than ten minutes all was quiet. everything passed off pleasantly. this reed band is a great institution with these people. the following night the young men met as usual with the band at their large kraal. the night was not dark, as the stars give great light in this latitude. when they were in full play, and the women and children going round the performers, singing and clapping of hands, each one wearing a long kaross, which covered their figure, and a fur cap, their usual covering at night, i left my waggon, dressed like them, with a jackal kaross and tiger-skin cap, which concealed my figure and face, walked down and joined in the dance, which was maintained for some time, all the men sitting or standing beyond the circle looking on. a little girl caught a glimpse of my white face, which had become partly uncovered, when she screamed out and pointed to me. it was then no longer necessary to keep up the disguise; i therefore threw off my kaross. when they saw who it was, they joined in the fun, laughing and clapping of hands, and i was made to sit down and have a good drink of kaffir beer. the next night or evening, before sundown, there was a dance of the married women, about seventy, dressed up in all kinds of strange figures. this was to celebrate the return of about thirty young girls to their homes, and about the same number of young men, who had passed through certain ceremonies after the jewish custom, before the boys are admitted into the ranks with the men, and entitled to carry arms in war; and the girls before they are allowed to marry. this custom is at a particular season. one or two old medicine-men will take those boys who are to be admitted to manhood into some secluded glen, where they remain for two or three months isolated from the rest of the people, no one being allowed to go near them during that time, the old men looking after their food; and at the appointed time they are allowed to return to the kraal. the young men are painted over with white clay for a certain number of days after the ceremony. two or more old women take the girls also to some remote place, and when they return they also are covered with white clay, and, in addition, wear a short kilt made of reeds or grass, and a band of the same material crossing over the shoulders, meeting in front and behind, which are worn during a certain time at their kraals, when they assume their ordinary dress, and then are eligible to be chosen for wives. i was hunting one day near cooe, and happened to ride down the river close upon a number of these girls and two old women, which caused a great commotion amongst them. i was told if they had caught me they were likely to kill me for trespassing into their sanctuary. all the bechuana tribe have this ceremony. this region being far removed from any white people, the natives are much better behaved, and it was a pleasure to be amongst them. as a people they are quite alive to the ridiculous, and can understand a joke as well as any one. it was great fun to go out with the children and enter into games with them, which they so thoroughly enjoyed that when i arrived at their kraal again after many months, which i had frequently to do to pass through to other parts, my arrival was hailed with delight by the youngsters. during my stay here i had a narrow escape from a lion. i was out with my rifle after some ostriches in the kalahara, ten miles from conge. here and there were low bushes. i had run down one bird and fastened the feathers on the saddle before me. on my way home, on my right, about yards, was what appeared to be a dead animal or an ostrich, i could not tell which, therefore i rode up and found it was a blue wildebeest or gnu, nearly half eaten. turning my horse to the left to resume my journey, walking the horse past a bush close on my right, about fifty yards from the carcass, i came right upon a full-grown lion and lioness lying down. my horse caught sight of them first, made a spring which nearly threw me from the saddle, so sudden and unexpected was his movement. when he did this i saw the lion about to spring; but our movement was too sudden, and he lost his opportunity; in another moment the lion would have been upon us. when a couple of hundred yards was between us, i turned the horse round to have a good look at the splendid animal, as i knew he would not follow. both were standing looking at me. it was now getting late in the day, therefore i lost no more time in looking after birds or lions. we were not ten feet from the lion when the horse made his spring, about as lucky an escape from the jaws of a lion as one could desire. treking through the country where there were no roads to kuis, on the molapo, in montsioa country, i came upon a small bushman kraal, six huts in all, evidently a permanent station. a few goats were feeding near them, and in the bushes were four bush girls collecting most beautiful caterpillars of red, yellow, blue, and green, about three inches in length. they told my hottentot they cook them in milk, and they are very nice. as the people seemed very friendly, i remained the night with my waggon, and was much amused at the dancing and singing in the evening. happy people! why should they be disturbed in their innocent life? there were old and young, in all eighteen; a quiet and inoffensive family. far away from other kraals these people lived to themselves; not another family that i could see within fifty miles. walking round in the morning to collect some of these caterpillars to put into spirits, i observed many of the thorn trees covered with dead insects, small lizards, frogs, beetles, grasshoppers, locusts, and many other kinds, all beautifully spiked on the long mimosa thorns; nearly every bough had one or more on. i knew at once that it was the larder of the little cruel butcher-bird. the bush seemed to swarm with them, and i have watched them frequently take and spike insects. one caught a frog and carried it to a tree close to where i was concealed, to see how he managed to pierce them so securely. the frog made a kind of scream when he was being taken up, and almost a scream when the large thorn was put through him. but he was not long suspended; when the bird was gone he wriggled himself clear, and fell to the ground, and i put him out of his pain. this butcher-bird is about the size, rather larger than a sparrow, black and white. one killed two canary-birds; both were put on the thorns. they seem never at rest, always looking for game of some kind. they are known in every part of south central africa. the wagt-een-beitje tree is their favourite for impaling their victims. the mocking-bird is also common; two kinds, one black and white, the other brown. the latter is the most talkative. both night and day i have watched them on the topmost branches of the lofty trees, and their persistent and energetic mode of keeping up their everlasting talk has kept me awake many nights, as in several parts, where the wood is thick, they seem to occupy every tree and bush. snakes are also plentiful down along the molapo; being out one afternoon with my gun after wild ducks, walking along the banks, all of a sudden a large black mamba snake stood in my path, about ten feet distant; he had raised himself more than two feet from the ground and was coming at me; i had just time to fire into his head before he made his spring. he measured eleven feet seven inches. the poison-fangs are as long as a parrot's claws. i put him into one of these chimneypot ant-hills to feed the ants; several more i saw the same day, and many puffadders: the largest measured three feet five inches. all this part of the chief montsioa's territory, down past kuis, and along the mafeking river, which is his western division, is one of the driest portions of the kalahara desert; in the winter months the only water to be obtained is in the sand of the river by digging; but in summer there is plenty. a road from kuruman runs through the desert, down part of the way by the kuruman river, crossing the nosop and oup to meer, where the bastards have formed a town: the distance is miles. before leaving this region i wish to explain the meteorological peculiarities of south central africa. when any great change in the atmosphere is about to take place, it has often been remarked by travellers, that in africa there is lightning and thunder without clouds. i have often remarked this phenomenon, and wondered what could be the cause. isolated from all society, thrown upon our own resources for occupation and amusement, in these solitary journeys through this vast unknown region, we are more prone to investigate the mysteries of nature than we should if thrown more amongst the busy world. so it was in my case, and knowing there must be some natural law unknown to me, i took my observations accordingly to find it out. during the long dry season many years ago, when travelling in the central portion of this desert, where this strange lightning and thunder occurred almost every night at certain seasons of the year, when no clouds are visible, all i could discover was, that the flashes seemed to come from one quarter. i was outspanned one day near one of those singular isolated granite hills, so often to be seen in the kalahara desert, that look more like a ruined temple than the works of nature. i started in the afternoon to climb to its summit, to take observations with my instruments, and found the elevation from base to top to be feet. it would be difficult to find words to convey the exquisite pleasure i felt in standing alone on this lofty eminence, where no white man before ever placed his foot: alone, far from the busy world, its anxieties and troubles; to look at the fair scene beneath and around me, the rich vegetation on the plains (for it was in the month of november, when all is bright and fair), the distant mountains, their quaint outlines softened by space to lovely purple tints, as they fade away into the rosy sky on the horizon! taking up a position under a huge block of granite, to be out of the sun's influence, for the thermometer registered degrees in the shade, to take observations, my attention was attracted to some heavy-looking clouds just perceptible above the topmost ridge of some lofty hills in the north-west some twenty miles distant. the sun was shining on them, giving them a pink massive outline. i remained in this position till nearly sundown, when i returned to the waggons; no clouds were visible above the hills when i reached my camp, nothing but the bright glow of the sky, which later on had changed to a purplish-blue, and as night approached came the usual lightning-flashes; my impression was we were going to have a storm, but there were no signs of clouds all night, and a clear sky the next day. on the following day we treked fifteen miles more to the north, and in the afternoon observed, just above the horizon, a line of clouds, similar to those i had seen the day before in the same position, and as evening advanced they appeared to have dispersed, as they became blended with the evening tints, and a casual observer would declare, with every appearance of truth, that there were no clouds to be seen in the sky, although he would see the lightning-flash only, as in no case when these apparently cloudless flashes come, is spark or electric fluid visible. i have been exploring constantly the whole of south central africa for twenty-five years, out in the open air nightly; not an evening escaped my observations, therefore i write with some degree of confidence when i state no electric spark is ever seen with this lightning, in consequence of the distance, and partly below the horizon, and occasionally, but very seldom, in the stillness and quiet that pervades everything, the air perfectly calm, the distant nimble of thunder may be heard, and the clouds before morning have vanished. i followed these observations for months, and whenever any clouds were seen just above the horizon before the sun went down, they appeared to vanish as the evening tints deepened. the same result followed year after year. i once took up my quarters at a small spring flowing from some granite rocks, where i remained six weeks, near the range of hills already described, to hunt and explore; this was the following year, and strange to say, every afternoon heavy masses of clouds just showed their heads above the horizon, covering more than a quarter of a circle, that is, from the west of north to east-north-east, taking up the same position daily; their lovely pink tints faded as evening advanced, no clouds could be seen, and yet nightly we had these flashes. some may say, surely these clouds must have passed over some portion of the desert, not a great distance from my outspan, and rain have fallen from these storm-clouds; the reply is, for months prior to the rainy season commencing, clouds are formed after mid-day, and follow certain strata in the air, drawn by the electric condition of that portion of the earth's surface, and discharge the electricity they may contain without rain. i give this because i have on several occasions been stationary for some weeks in the line of country these clouds have taken, year after year, and at the same season. after the sun has passed the meridian, clouds have been collecting, generally from the north-east, and as evening advances, the vivid lightning and the heavy peals of thunder commence, and last for several hours, and then appear to evaporate, and a lovely starlight night succeeds; not a drop of rain has fallen during the storm, and a clear blue sky is seen over the whole of the horizon. in this part of the desert we are seldom below feet of sea-level, and, taking into consideration the clear and rarefied atmosphere, a flash of lightning and the thunder may be seen and heard at a greater distance than where the atmosphere is more dense. i may further observe, that owing to the rotundity of the earth, and the allowance to be made in every mile, it does not require that the clouds should be very far away to be partly below the horizon. when we place our eye on a level with the ground and look along a flat country, at ten miles' distance a man must be seventy feet high for his head to be seen above the horizon; therefore, at twenty or thirty miles, a portion of the clouds would be beneath the horizon, not a great distance for sound to be heard on a still evening, or a flash of light to be seen as evening closed in. these storm-clouds, without rain, always precede the rainy season, as also the sand-storms, and those gigantic whirlwinds that may be seen passing over the desert by the dozen, and extending in some instances feet high, carrying up sand, sticks, and other articles that lie in their course; many of them measure feet through. it is a strange sight to see many of these sand-columns passing along over a plain. i have observed, where the first passes, in the course of the day others follow exactly in the same line: they indicate a change in the weather. the mirage is also of daily occurrence. in travelling through the country, its general features appear to have entirely changed by imaginary lakes, looking so perfectly natural; lofty trees appear to be standing in water; long belts of bush and wood, which the traveller may be approaching, seem suspended in the air, showing their reflection in the vapoury atmosphere between them and the observer, which does not extend above a few feet from the ground: that apparently vanishes as you proceed, but you are passing through it; isolated hills look like islands, by their base being surrounded by this moist air, which is not confined to any particular time of day, but towards the afternoon they are more frequent. if there is any wind, of course there is no mirage, as it disperses the damp air which causes it. montsioa territory is rich in cattle, which is sold to colonial traders. the natives also are cultivating their lands for corn, and a great sale in ploughs is the consequence. they are improving in every way, but for the last three years the boers have laid waste the country, killing the people by hundreds, robbing them of their property, and stealing from them , head of cattle, besides sheep and goats, causing untold misery amongst a people who never injured them by word or deed. i write this from my own personal knowledge, being there at the time, and having only just returned to this country. the only means of preserving these people, and improving their condition, which is essential also to the prosperity and advancement of the cape colony, is to annex their lands. chapter eight. the chief gaseitaive's territory of the bangwaketse family of the bechuanas. the next and third bechuana chief from the cape colony is the chief gaseitsive, whose territory is more extensive than montsioa's; his southern boundary joins on to the latter, along the entire length from east to west. his chief town is at kanya, sixty-five miles north of sehuba, montsioa's town, situated on the summit of a lofty hill, the highest of any in this part of the country. the chief lives in a well-built house, furnished similar to any european residence. the hill where the main part of the town is built, slopes gradually down towards the north, on the east and west, more suddenly on the south by a cliff, feet in height, composed of rounded and well water-worn stones, from the size of a marble to an ostrich egg, forming a hard conglomerate, with dark brown gritty sand, and it has every appearance of having once been a shore-line, and the back of an ancient harbour. at the bottom of this cliff the lower town is built, and is the mission station and church of the london missionary society, under the rev. mr. good. this lower town stands at the upper end of an extensive level opening, surrounded on three sides by hills, open to the south, where a small sluit drains the land upon which the lower town stands. the principal road from the colony after passing through montsioa's territory at maceby's station, runs due north to kanya; the distance from the former is sixty miles, from molapo river; half-way, at vaalpan fits, is the division between montsioa and gaseitsive. the country is thickly wooded and very pretty; all to the west of this road is part of the kalahara desert belonging to these two chiefs. a road from melemo's station on the molapo joins this, and at vaalpan pits a road branches off to the left, through the desert, to lake n'gami, a distance of miles to the chief molemo at leshubatabe's station, east of that lake. the principal watering-places along this road are moshanen kraal, thirty miles; seletse, forty miles; tans, twenty miles; kaikai, , with small pits between; makapolo pans, , also small pans along the road; goose vlei, sixty-four miles beyond, and to molemo's station, near the lake, forty-eight. the country through which this road passes varies in character and scenery; the lower portion passes between isolated and picturesque hills, well-wooded to their summits with a variety of subtropical vegetation. mokotontuane hills are particularly noticeable for their beautiful flora. the plains and valleys have many kaffir stations with their petty chiefs, under paramount chief gaseitsive, who belongs to the bangwaketse tribe of the bechuana family. they are moshanen, montsioa's old station; seletse, gabatane, ses, khokhochu, lutlue, tans, and several others, as also bushman kraals where large herds of cattle are kept. the people are quiet and inoffensive, living the same kind of life their forefathers lived, thousands of years before. the men have their skin mantle, the women also, with their short kilt, beads of ostrich eggs, also brass wire from kanya, for feathers, karosses, skins, and other native produce. the climate is almost perfect; no frosts in winter, which is the dry season, as rain rarely falls between april and october. lions, wolves, leopards, and a host of the cat tribe, some of which are beautifully marked and make handsome karosses, which fetch a good price, are numerous over the whole of this part. the main transport road, already described, from maceby station on the molapo, in montsioa's territory, to kanya, is the only road now open from the cape colony to the interior, for carrying on the colonial trade with the native tribes beyond, as now settled by the late transvaal convention. all the others passing northwards go through that republic and are subject to a heavy tax, consequently they are closed to us. previous to the transvaal rebellion, we had six different roads for conveying merchandise from our two colonies, natal and cape colony, free from taxation. the interior trade from natal is entirely closed against english traders, in consequence of the distance being too great to go round to the only one now left to us. the other main roads to kanya, besides the one already described, pass through the transvaal and zeerust, which has been given to the boer government, since keats' award has been so unwisely abandoned and their north-west border extended, the result of ignorance on the part of the british government as to the importance of keeping in our own hands so valuable a part of montsioa's territory, for the purpose of greater freedom of communication with that vast native region beyond. the transport over them would have been much easier and cheaper, in consequence of good roads and an unlimited supply of water. the only road we have willingly confined ourselves to, from maceby's to kanya, has only one permanent water, at vaal-pan-pits, for sixty miles with a heavy road, which for heavy transport-waggons is a loss to the trader. the roads which the colonial trade passed over, now closed to us by the extension of the transvaal boundary beyond keats' award, which should have been maintained, are as follows: from kimberley to taungs. melema on the molapo to rinokano, and the river road along the limpopo or from rinokano to kanya by two routes; another is _via_ maamousa; a fourth passing along the open plains by the two salt-pans, and the other two, one to the north of bloemhof, and from that town by the vaal river roads--all concentrating on molapo and molmane, then through the new land given to the transvaal by the convention. this is the position in which the british government has placed the two colonies with regard to the interior trade. the country through which these roads pass to kanya is very lovely, and superior to any part of the colony. one of these passes through a drift of the molmane river, a branch of the klein marico, passing on past john mentji's farm; a small lake in front of the house, surrounded with beautiful trees, and a pretty fountain at the back, with rising ground in the distance, is a spot to be remembered. beyond is the fountain at ludic's, passing between hills clothed in every variety of foliage, on to kanya; the distance is eighty miles. the other principal transport road to kanya from rinokano passes through a more lovely country than the one just described, the rich alluvial soil of the valleys, well watered by fine springs, which are small branches of the notuane river, fine grass-lands studded with beautiful groups of trees and bush. on every side of the road, well-wooded, lofty, and picturesque hills--they may be termed mountains; others in the distance rearing their lofty heads, visible between the openings of those near. the subtropical plants, scarlet creepers climbing up and between the isolated rocks, piled one upon another, complete a landscape seldom to be surpassed for the beauty of its scenery. the distance to kanya is fifty-four miles, ten miles from rinokano, which is a large kaffir station. when i first paid it a visit, an old chief moelo lived there. it is a mission station of the german mission society, in charge of the rev. mr. jansen, who is noted for his hospitality to travellers; he has a beautiful garden well stocked with fruit, also orange and lemon trees. monata, ten miles north of rinokano, is the old station of the chief marshelale, who, owing to the continual inroads of the boers from the transvaal stealing his cattle, removed to the other side of the mountains beyond kanya, where pelan lived. this old station has now been occupied by several bastard families, who have built quite a town of good brick houses situated on a branch of the notuane river, which runs through a pass in the mountain of great beauty. above the poort near the springs are many korannas; some spoke very good english, and gave me much information respecting the locality. six miles beyond, the road takes a short turn to the left, passing between high hills for one mile, the road being very steep and stony, and a mile beyond you arrive at that singular and isolated hill called moselekatze kop, a lofty conical hill; the height from its base to summit is feet, by my aneroid barometer. this is composed of hard sandstone and shale; great quantities of ironstone, and conglomerate in large boulders, cover the ground at the base, which appears to have fallen from the top; the rocks round about are blue and white metamorphic. as my intention was to scale it the next day, i outspanned under some fine trees close to the hill for the night, that i might be on the topmost point at sunrise, which at that season of the year (april) is about five o'clock; and as the sun rose above the cloudless horizon, with the pure clear atmosphere, it threw out all the distant mountain peaks in bold and well-defined outlines, although some of them were more than sixty miles distant; and as the sun rose, casting the deep shadows of the surrounding hills, and bringing out the rich green foliage of the trees and shrubs, it was a sight seldom to be seen. there are many cattle and vieh-posts for sheep and goats in these valleys, that belong to the people at kanya, and other kraals, in the country belonging to the chief gaseitsive. leaving moselekatze kop, going to kanya, the road turns west, then north-west for thirteen miles, to a deep and stony watercourse, that comes down from the mountain two miles distant, which is a branch of the river tans and sand, into the notuane. many picturesque sandstone hills of every variety of form, covered with rich subtropical vegetation to their summits, with gigantic rocks peeping out between the bushes, give a peculiar feature to the landscape. some of the finest tree-aloes grow here to perfection, the stems measuring twenty-five feet, and in girth six feet, their long light-green pointed leaves measuring four feet, and when in bloom their many crimson flowers are beautiful objects. the country being so lovely, i remained at this stony river three days to sketch and prospect, and was rewarded by finding in the bed of the river, mixed up in the large stones, ancient flint implements, that had been washed down in heavy rains. several of them were so jambed in between large boulders of many tons weight, that i had to get a crowbar to remove them. some of these boulders measured over four feet in diameter, showing the force of the stream and quantity of water that falls in these thunderstorms. the temperature at night in my waggon in april was degrees, and at mid-day degrees. no large game has been seen, although the natives tell me there are koodoos, blue wildebeest or gnu, hartebeest and springbok. from this river the road winds through these beautiful valleys, passing a remarkable granite rock standing alone in the veldt, round like a kaffir hut, twenty feet in height, continuing on through the same kind of country to kanya. another, in fact two other roads, leave rinokano, and go direct to molapololo, the chief sechele's station; one round by ramoocha khotla, named after an old chief, passing through base poort, a lovely spot, plenty of baboons and beautiful birds; we cross the sand river four times, very stony, on to sneyman's farms, past the spitz kop, another remarkable hill, over an open flat, park-like, with beautiful clumps of trees, to dwasberg, passing on the right kolobekatze mountain, leaving on the left the quagga and kopani hills, and on to ramoocha, where the chief makose has a large station. these people belong to the bamankitse tribe of the bechuana family. it is a mission in charge of the rev. mr. schonenburg, of the berlin society. from this kraal the road divides, one going to chene chene, where the chief maklapan lives on the bank of the notuane, and then to motsode, taking the limpopo river road to ba-mangwato. the second goes direct to molapololo; the third to the same town, through the kaffir station monope, under the chief kuanette, of the bahurutsi-bamangane of the bakatla tribe of the bechuana family. monope is also a berlin mission station, in charge of the rev. mr. tanson. the large kaffir station of monope is well situated on elevated ground, a gentle rise from the river coloben, a branch of the notuane, being protected by several large stone koptjies. the people are very quiet and civil, cultivate extensively kaffir corn, and make karosses, which they sell to traders. when i first knew the people, twenty years ago, there was not a man or woman that dressed in european clothes; at the present time most of them are getting into the way of dressing. the men wear clothes, and will have the best. the notuane river has many tributaries, that take their rise in this territory and at rinokano, which drains the whole of this district, and falls into the limpopo. the town of kanya, as i have stated, stands on a hill, much higher by several hundred feet than the surrounding country. there are seven stores kept by colonial traders, who did, before the transvaal rebellion, a good trade with the natives in corn, cattle, feathers, ivory, skins, karosses, and other native produce, but which have been almost destroyed through the boer disturbances. the chief gaseitsive is a quiet and peaceful man, and his son bathoen is also well-disposed. all the men dress in european clothes, and the women are taking to them. it is one of the most difficult things to change the habits and customs of a people, but in my time great strides have been made in this direction up even to the zambese. the large station at mashonen, eighteen miles to the west of kanya, is now occupied by this chief's people, since montsioa left to live on his own ground at sehuba. the country between kanya and masepa station is very picturesque, lovely valleys, some well cultivated; many of the hills that surround them are clothed in lovely vegetation--the euphorbia, wild fig, and other subtropical plants; creepers of every variety climbing up between the large masses of sandstone rocks that stand out in grotesque forms, piled one upon another, add much to the beauty of the landscape. such charming scenery could not be passed over in haste, particularly when surveying the country, which, detained me from time to time many weeks in treking through. the different streams that drain this part rise to the west in the kalahara desert and fall into the sand, tuns, and coloben branches of the notuane river. the climate is splendid, so far as perpetual sunshine for eight months of the year goes; the summer from december to april being the rainy season, when severe thunderstorms and a downpour of rain are almost of daily occurrence; but with such a long drought vegetation does not seem to suffer. the natives are most friendly, bringing milk, green mealies, sugar-cane, pumpkins, anything they possess, to the waggon, in exchange for beads, tobacco, or such trifles as they might require. at one of my outspans, close to the highest range of hills between masepa and coloben, i formed my camp under some fine trees, as it was my intention to ascend the highest hill, to take observations with my servant, the next day. during the night several wolves visited us; the smell of the fresh meat in the waggons brought them nearer than was prudent, for we shot two very large ones in the early part of the night. their skins are very useful for many purposes. this occurred when few white men visited africa; consequently, lions, wolves, and other animals were seen and heard daily, and therefore necessary precautions had to be taken to guard against any attack upon my oxen. in the early morning of the following day i saddled-up my horse, and with my rifle started for the hills. it is always a practice in such a country never to be without your rifle, for it is impossible to say when you may require to make use of it. finding the hill much too steep to ride up, i led the horse along a winding path between bushes and trees, and reached the top, which was level and open. the view from this point repaid me for the trouble of ascending. the lofty and well-wooded hills in the immediate vicinity, the distant mountains with their rugged outlines, clothed in purple mist, with the rich valleys beneath, was a landscape worth looking at. the clear atmosphere brought out all the inequalities and projecting rocks of quaint forms into prominence. i was not, however, allowed to remain long in this peaceful solitude before i became aware i had invaded mr. baboon's stronghold and look-out station. making a more minute survey of my surroundings, i observed that many of the trees and bushes concealed one or more of these monkeys, and others perched upon rocks not far off intently watching my movements. not a sound escaped them; i believe the presence of my horse had much to do with keeping them quiet, for horses then were never seen in those parts. if i had been alone some of the old ones might have given me trouble; many of them appeared to be nearly my own size. to see what effect a shot would have, i fired one chamber of my revolver. then the music commenced--barks, screams, half-human grunts sounded from a hundred different places as they scrambled from branch to branch to gain cover amongst the rocks and small caves in the side of the hill, which, in days long since passed away, were occupied by bushmen. the height of this elevation was feet above sea-level. on arriving at my waggon i found one of my oxen stuck in a mud-hole, and with difficulty released him and proceeded on to masepa, the petty chief pelan's station, where the kaffir women brought me thick milk, which is very good and acceptable in this hot weather. there are many kaffir stations along these roads of the bakwana and bangweketse tribe of bechuana, who live under their respective chiefs. from my earliest visits in this country, up to the present time, the boers have been a murdering and unprincipled people, over all these parts, stealing the native cattle and encroaching on the land. in dr. livingstone, in a letter to sir john pakington, states,--"frequent attempts were made by the transvaal boers to induce the chief sechele to prevent the english from passing him in their way north; and, because he refused to comply with this policy, a commando was sent against him by mr. pretorius, which, on the th september last, attacked and destroyed his town, killing sixty of his people, and carried off upwards of women and children. i can declare most positively that, except in the matter of refusing to throw obstacles in the way of english traders, sechele never offended the boers by either word or deed. they wished to divert the trade into their own hands. they also plundered my house of property which would cost in england at least pounds. they smashed all the bottles containing medicine, and tore all the books of my library, scattering the leaves to the winds; and besides my personal property, they carried off or destroyed a large amount of property belonging to english gentlemen and traders. of the women and children captured, many of the former will escape, but the latter are reduced to hopeless slavery. they are sold and bought as slaves; and i have myself seen and conversed with such taken from other tribes, and living as slaves in the houses of the boers. one of sechele's children is amongst the number captured, and the boer who owns him can, if necessary, be pointed out." the above statement is perfectly true in every particular. this murderous attack on sechele and his people took place at monope, and the old men at the station took me up into one of the stone hills close to the town, and showed me the small cave, about ten feet square, in the side of the hill, where sechele and his wife took refuge with several guns and ammunition, and were pursued by the boers, who kept up a constant fire into the cave, whilst sechele and his wife, protected by the projecting rock, kept them off, sechele firing, whilst his wife loaded the pieces. and the kaffirs called my attention to the bullet-marks on the opposite rocks, where portions of the bullets still remained. finding that sechele shot a boer whenever he showed himself, killing five, they withdrew, and sechele and his wife came out. after this affair sechele went a few miles north with his people, and settled at coloben, and then on to his present station, molapololo. there is no denying the fact that the boers, from the time they crossed the vaal river into transvaal, have been a greater curse to the country, wherever they have set foot, than moselekatze ever was when he marched north from zululand. some think they are excellent pioneers in a new country. they advance into native territories, killing the people by thousands, enslaving women and children, robbing them of all their lands and cattle, and occupying their country, with no ulterior benefit to themselves or others, but merely as a field for further cruelties and spoliation of native races, so that the country may be cleared of them, but not for civilisation or improving the country, because they leave a dark spot wherever they settle from the ruthless cruelties they perpetrate upon unoffending and innocent people. are they then good pioneers? all the sophistry in the world cannot make it right. to murder, enslave, and rob innocent human beings, living on their own lands, who have done no harm, and have as much right to live and enjoy their own as any other people, black or white, that they should be so ruthlessly treated by men who profess christianity and to be a god-fearing people, is an anomaly, and cannot be tolerated by a just and upright people like the british nation. and yet these atrocities are at the present moment being carried on in bechuanaland by the boers of the transvaal and orange free state and other scum of european nationality, who have lost all sense of honour and justice, for the purpose of gaining a footing in the country; and we allow them to commit these lawless and criminal acts unchecked. they do not even civilise or improve the country they take. look at the transvaal; for forty years the boers have had possession of it. what is it now? no more civilised than when they entered it, but the contrary. the boers are more demoralised, as we know, who know them. their acts alone are a sufficient answer to this question, and south africa will not advance in prosperity and wealth until the boer element is brought to a sense of justice; and that will never be while the boers hold an independent position in the transvaal. the population of the bechuanas in gaseitsive's territory, including those under the chief kuanette at monope and pelan at masepa, does not exceed , , exclusive of bushmen; and against this the entire white population of the transvaal at the present time does not exceed , , including english and other nationalities. then why should this handful of men be allowed to keep all south africa in a perpetual state of disquietude, to the immense injury of the trade of the country? the gold re-discoveries, however, will settle this question, and that within the next year or two. the bulk of the most intelligent and influential boers are determined to be annexed, and the hoisting of the british flag is only delayed by the savage, ignorant "doppers," with whom the diggers will make short work whenever they think fit to do so. the population now cannot be less than , , of whom , are europeans, and all fighting-men, whilst the boers cannot muster more than , , of whom the half are on our side. chapter nine. the chief sechele of the bakwana tribe of the bechuana family. on entering this chief's territory from the south, that is from kanya and masepa, the country is undulating and densely wooded with trees and bush, the road stony and uneven. approaching molapololo, sechele's chief town, a long range of lofty hills comes in view, and as you near them a bold outline presenting many perpendicular and lofty cliffs, which gain in magnitude as you advance along the road with your waggon, passing between many kaffir gardens. this range reminded me very forcibly of the devonshire coast-line at bolthead, and requires a short description to make more clear the general outline, as in no other region i have visited is there so singular a mountain, and one that conveys so plainly to the mind the history of remote times, and which appears so little changed from what it was at that period. on leaving the low and level country to enter molapololo, the entrance is in a break of these hills, which rise from their base several hundred feet. in this opening is the remains of a considerable river. on passing through this entrance, which is about yards wide, we come into an open space, surrounded by lofty hills, with an opening on the west side where this ancient river enters from the kalahara desert, passing through this open space and through the entrance just described. on the east side of this open space is another entrance, flanked with lofty and almost perpendicular cliffs. the open space itself is about half a mile both ways, of an irregular shape, and has every appearance of being at one time a splendid harbour, with two entrances, surrounded by lofty hills, leaving the opening on the west side, where the once ancient river passed in between a narrow opening of light sandstone rocks. the soil of this open space is clear light sand, and is now occupied by several hundred native huts, and is also the residence of the missionary, the rev. mr. price, of the london missionary society, and also traders who have six stores. the outer face of the range of hills above-named that faces the south, present a bold and perpendicular front many hundred feet in height, half-way down; then it slopes at an angle of fifty-five to the foot, which is the accumulation of soil fallen from the upper cliffs; at the base a level sandy space of some hundred feet, clear of bush, similar to our sea-coast sands; and beyond for thirty miles the country is almost level, but thickly wooded. the principal formation of these hills is sandstone, the stratification is almost horizontal, but dips towards the north. the entrance on the eastern side is most interesting, and showing the action of the sea on the outer face of the lofty cliffs, which were exposed to its force. half-way up one of the faces, feet above the base, is a large cave extending some distance into the hill; the entrance is shaped like the portal of a castle, with perpendicular sides fifty feet wide and seventy feet in height, the rock round and smooth on both sides of the entrance. the interior has several chambers, similar in form to many caverns along the rocky shores in various parts of the world formed by the action of the waves. the land-face of this ancient harbour, the hill, rises feet at an angle of degrees. on the summit is another extensive level space, surrounded on the west and east by lofty rocks; the north is open to the level country beyond. on this open ground the main portion of the town of molapololo is situated, and the residence of the chief sechele, who has two well-built houses furnished after european fashion: an entrance-hall, fitted up with weapons of war, a dining and drawing-room, bedrooms and offices, sideboards, tables, chairs, with the usual glasses, decanters, silver stands, and such things as are required in a dining-room. the drawing-room has sofas and lounging-chairs, pictures, and everything nice--quite as comfortable as any house i have ever been in in south africa, except in the principal towns in the colony. sechele dresses well in english clothes, and his eldest son, sebele, is also a well-dressed, handsome kaffir. in , when i first saw sechele, he was not so particular in his dress, and most of his people had skin dresses; now many wear english clothes of the best quality. i am describing now the state of the natives in , my last visit. but now since the transvaal has been handed back to the boers, trade has become paralysed and little or nothing is doing with the colony, as the transvaal boers have closed all the interior roads, and not only done so, but robbed and burnt traders' waggons on their way to the interior, and driven the traders out of montsioa's and monkuruan's territories, and by their lawless acts have devastated the country. at my last visit but one, in , i was received with great kindness, and as an old friend, by sechele, who had on former occasions shown me great kindness and hospitality. i arrived at the town on sunday afternoon, the st of september, after suffering much from want of water, and bad grass, since leaving masepa. i called on the rev. mr. j. moffat, and then returned to my waggon, where i found sechele's brother, who had been sent by his chief, inviting me up to see him. on monday morning i walked up to his house; he was sitting in his kotla with his councillors, then stood up, shook hands, took my arm without speaking, and walked to his house, a few steps from the kotla, as the enclosure is called where he and his councillors transact business, and took me into his drawing-room, seated me beside him on the sofa, still holding my hand, and ordered coffee. after giving him the particulars of my journey and the news of the country, he asked me to take dinner with him, and was pleased to see me. the table was laid similar to any white man's--stewed beef and pumpkins, kaffir beer, for which he is famous. then had i to listen to all his troubles respecting the chief linsey, who lives at kgamanyane or motsode, a station forty-two miles on the east of molapololo, who had robbed him of all his cattle, and he was now a poor man. having examined some papers he placed in my hands, i gave him an outline of my journey to the matabeleland, and left him with a promise to see him on my return from up-country, to give the news. such is the chief the british people look upon as a savage, and many out here call a wily old fox, because he is guarded in what he says and does; and can any one be surprised at his reticence when he has so many enemies in the boers, who are watching for the first chance to make war on him and his people in their thirst for land and plunder? he has always been a good friend to the english, and recent events have taught him to be more than careful how he acts, seeing that no dependence can be placed on the english government in relation to south african affairs; and such is the feeling of all the great chiefs from the zambese down to the cape colony. a more romantic position for a native town could not well be chosen, and with little labour this natural fortress could be made impregnable. many of the women wear petticoats, others still retain their skin dresses with bead and brass ornaments; and if left alone, without fear of boer invasion, these are the most happy people in the world. the english people have hitherto been looked upon as friends and protectors, and as one of them i felt proud of my country. but since the transvaal rebellion and its retrocession, an englishman is ashamed to travel the country, to be subject to the taunts of the chiefs and people at the boasted honour of england. as i have stated, the people are the most happy of the human race--having no cares, no great division of classes, no extravagant fashions or forms to keep up. luxuries of civilised life are unknown. they have their amusements, their nightly music and dances, the usual reed band already described; the women and children sing, and keep excellent time to the music; their clear and musical voices are pleasant to hear. the duty of the men is to attend to the oxen and cows, make karosses and clothes, hunt and work with their waggon and spans, fetching in the corn when ripe, bringing in wood for the fires; the boys look after the calves and goats. the women cook, bring water, hoe the gardens, and keep the birds away, and cut the corn when ripe--the labour being so divided, all goes on pleasantly. sechele assists the missionary in his services at the church, which is a large building in the upper town. a few days previous to my visit a troop of young elephants marched up to the kraal from the kalahara desert, having lost themselves--a very unusual occurrence, as they seldom come down so far south. the natives turned out and shot them, causing great excitement. in sechele's territory there are no other stations of any size; he has many smaller kraals in outlying districts, and several cattle-posts belonging to kaffirs, some of whom are rich in stock. four roads branch from molapololo to the north, one passing through the desert to lake n'gami, two direct to ba-mangwato through the bush veldt, a fourth _via_ motsode, by continuing down the notuane river; another, making a fifth, taking the river road by the limpopo. the distance by the direct roads to mongwato is miles. in the dry season most of the transport-waggons take the river road, as water is always to be obtained. in the direct roads, many of the pans dry up; only at selene pan can water be procured, which is eighty-eight miles from sechele's, and forty-five from mongwato. all that part of the country is very pretty; there are no hills, small koptjies are numerous. the trees and bush that grow in such park-like clumps, of great variety, add to its charm. the first year i travelled that road, eighteen years ago, the whole country swarmed with game, lions, and wolves, that is, at the time i speak of. the koodoo, with fine spiral horns from three to four feet in length, is a noble animal, the size of an ordinary ox, of a dun colour; their fine action when trotting or on the gallop, carrying their heads well up, is a fine sight. hartebeests, roibok, with their beautiful fat sides and sleek coats. well-marked with black stripes and white is the zebra, and when a troop of a hundred or more pass, it is a picture in itself. the ostrich was then plentiful, but it was difficult to run them down where the trees grow so thick, with bush between. i had a young and fleet horse who got quite used to hunting them; if he saw any, it was difficult to keep him in hand, and in a country of thick bush, wolf-holes, and ant-bears, it required great caution to prevent a tumble of both horse and man. the best plan i found was to stalk them between the bushes. i had a narrow escape with a lion on one of my ostrich hunts. when chasing them at full speed, i had to leap a low bush, no other opening being near; when half-way over, i saw a lion on the other side close under the branches, who raised himself as if he had been asleep--i partly passed over him. all i had time to see was his great head and mane as he jumped up, but i was off and away before he seemed to realise his position; at any rate he did not give chase, as i thought he might do. i think my horse had some inkling of the same, for he stretched out at his full speed. at night they became very troublesome, prowling round the waggon, keeping us awake to prevent them coming disagreeably close to the oxen and two horses fastened securely by reins to the trektow and waggon. not being hunted, they were very bold. one night they killed a beautiful gemsbok within yards of the waggon; the long straight horns i secured the next morning. several bushmen and their families kept with me during my stay in these parts, and were of great assistance in fetching water, cutting up the flesh to make biltong by drying it in the sun, and bringing in the game when shot. some of the bushmen and women were well-made, the old ones poor specimens of humanity. one girl was a perfect model, with rounded, well-formed limbs, and in good condition from living on the game the men killed with their bows and arrows. these people were quite black and small, a different type altogether from the bushmen of the south. they were of the same family as those who occupy a great portion of the kalahara desert, of which this forms the eastern part. their language is also different; they are called mesere bushmen from their small size; that word signifies woman. they were perfectly naked, the weather never being cold, at this time the thermometer being degrees in the shade. their long rough grass huts being a broken bough or a few sticks stuck up and long grass thrown over. they have a very ingenious method of taking game by pitfalls. they dig four or five pits eight feet deep, ten long and four wide, fifty or sixty and sometimes feet from each other, not in a straight line, but so placed that when they make a fence from one to the other it would form the letter v; at the point would be the pit, and no hedge, so that an animal wanting to pass through would walk down to the opening, and as the pit would be beautifully covered over with small sticks and grass, made a very inviting road to walk over. it was at one of these openings i had a very narrow escape of my life. returning to my camp after a long day out after game, i came upon this fence, seeming an opening, and not having seen any before, i was going through, my dog in front, when i saw him disappear all at once, howling as dogs will howl when hurt or frightened. dismounting, i pulled away some of the sticks to make the hole larger, and found one of these pits, with a large sharp-pointed pole stuck upright in the centre, and there was the dog at the bottom in a great state of mind; but how to get him out was a puzzle. as there were several long straight branches that formed the hedge, i got sufficient to put in that i might go down to take hold of the dog's neck and lift him out, which took me an hour to perform. i took care to give these hedges a wide berth when i saw any afterwards. if a giraffe or elephant fell in he would be impaled and unable to move. smaller game like my dog are caught alive. if i and my horse had gone in, he would have been impaled, and i should have been probably killed. the bechuanas have another method of catching game by pitfalls--at least many years ago it was in use, where instead of securing one, they trapped hundreds at one time. in those extensive open plains, where tens of thousands of the antelope species roam, a favourable spot would be selected, and from eight to twelve large pits dug, ranged in a row fifteen feet apart, the earth taken out to the depth of five feet, and thrown up between them, forming a steep bank; at the bottom of this pit, it would be divided into smaller pits, two feet in depth, leaving a wall of earth between each; these would be square, and three in a row. the full size of the opening would be about thirty by twelve feet, placed longways. these would occupy a considerable space; at the extreme ends a thick bush hedge would prevent the game leaping over, and several hundred men placed in addition to prevent the animals going round. when all was prepared, men would drive the game by thousands towards the pits, and as they were pressed on by those behind they made for the pits to escape, where they would fall in, and having no foothold in the small square pits above-named, had to remain. hundreds passing over them, also got fixed, until the pits were full. then the grand slaughter commenced; as many as have been caught at one time. all the men, women, and children set to work; fires made, cooking begins, the skins taken off, and the meat cut up into lengths and hung up to dry in the sun for future use; not a marrow-bone is wasted, and it takes days to complete the work. this practice has been given over for years, but the pits still remain, some very perfect, which i measured. the dutch name is "fungcut," the kaffir name "hopo." the game driven into these pits would be composed of all kinds common to the country. the bechuanas have guns and shoot the game, and have become very good shots. at molapololo when the people get short of meat, a hunt is got up to go out for weeks to shoot game. thirty or forty men, each with a gun, and pack-oxen, with several waggons, proceed to the kalahara, where game is always to be had, and when they have procured enough meat or biltong to load up the oxen, they return home. many women and children go in the waggons with them; it is a grand picnic. i was with them on one occasion when we had a lion-hunt, and we killed three out of seven, but four of the bechuanas got fearfully wounded. i was outspanned about miles on the north-west of sechele's, near a very pretty pan full of water, it being the rainy season in february, when one of these hunts came along, and outspanned a short distance from my waggon. the night previous we had been on the watch, as lions kept prowling about the waggons, but could not see any, the night being very dark. the next night the kaffirs lost one of their largest pack-oxen, and as we saw by the spoor that there were several, the kaffirs came to me, they knowing me very well, and asked if i would go with them and hunt up the lions, as we had several good dogs to drive them out of the bush. we mustered in all twenty-two guns--myself and my driver, a hottentot, a capital shot, and twenty of the hunting party. leaving the camp about two p.m., we took the lions' spoor for nearly a mile into a small koppie with thick bush. the best part of the sport was to see the kaffirs in their excitement, as if they had never seen a lion before; my fear was they might shoot me in their anxiety to have a shot and be the first to kill; every man had his place assigned him, but we could not draw the lions out of their cover; the dogs made a great noise, but would not go in. finding they would not move, i placed three kaffirs in a good position for them to keep firing with their rifles into the most likely part; this after a time brought four lions out, three others slunk away to the rear. two had evidently been hit by the bullets, for they made for the nearest kaffirs, whom they seized. three were killed, having received seven to eight shots each; those that made their escape were young, only half-grown. this was a glorious day for the kaffirs, to go home and tell their chief and friends of their bravery. all this part of the kalahara belongs to and is in gaseitsive's territory, a country nearly miles square; the northern part from molapololo is a complete forest, fine trees, bush and open glades, and is his hunting-ground, where his people procure ostrich feathers, skins, and game, and also ivory. it was, when i first knew it, full of game, but since the natives have obtained rifles, they have greatly reduced it. the notuane river and its branches drain the country belonging to sechele and gaseitsive, and is a tributary of the limpopo. fifty miles to the east of molapololo is a large kaffir station, chene chene, within the latter territory, under the chief maklapan. a beautiful and picturesque hill stands close to it, which is visible at a great distance. the whole country is forest and full of game. the town is twenty-nine miles south from motsodie. the river road to the interior from molapololo passes through a very pretty and interesting part of the country, a long range of low thickly wooded hills on the left. twenty-two miles on the road from molapololo is clokan, a small stream, another branch of the notuane, where water seldom fails. on my last journey i found a trader, a mr. okenshow, outspanned, who told me several lions had killed three blue wildebeest the previous night, and advised me not to let my oxen go out of my sight in the thick bush. this spot is famed for beautiful birds. after shooting some pheasants and four of these little beauties. i went on and passed another small stream call koopong, thirteen miles, and then to motsodie, the large kaffir station under the chief linsey, which is forty-two miles distant from molapololo; he cautioned me to look after my horses and oxen, for the country was full of lions, and they were so bold they came close up to the town. they follow the game, more particularly quaggas or zebras, and, as there were plenty of them, also koodoos, hartebeest, and wildebeest. previous to my first visit, a chief named kgamanyane left his country on the east side of the limpopo river, crossed over and settled at this station, with all his people, by permission of sechele, and built a large station up among several hills, that it might be well protected in case of war with any tribe. at his death, his son linsey ruled jointly with his uncle, and claimed the country as his own, and began stealing sechele's cattle and killing his herds; this led to war between them; several attacks were made by the latter on the town, but they were driven off, with a few killed, and so the war for a time was ended. this was the trouble sechele told me of. the town is well selected for defence, the hills command every approach to it. linsey lives in a brick house, and he and his people dress in european clothes. there is a mission station under the london missionary society. the people are very civil and ready to help strangers. close up to the town are some very large ant-hills, fifteen feet in height, and forty feet in circumference at the base, terminating in a sharp point. they are the work of the small white ant that is so destructive to furniture and buildings; what motive they have for building them so lofty and pointed i have never been able to discover, because all their food supply is conveyed into it through little holes at the base. they are wonderful works for so small an insect. i remained here a week that i might explore the country, which is of sandstone formation, granite below, iron-conglomerate in large boulders on the slopes of the hills. there are two roads to the limpopo river, one on each side of the notuane, and another through the bush veldt, to the great marico river, with branch roads to chene chene, ramoocha, and rinokano stations, the two former ones being very bad and crossing many sluits. i took the one through the bush veldt. leaving motsodie in the afternoon, i crossed the river, and as night would be dark, outspanned early, to be prepared for any nocturnal visits from our feline friends. fixing upon a pretty little open space, the only one i could find along the road, as it was one dense bush on both sides, i outspanned, and made everything ready, collecting plenty of wood to make big fires. having made a fire to cook our evening meal, my three kaffirs, or rather my hottentot driver and two kaffirs, were sitting smoking over it, and having seen all secure, were ready to turn into bed, when my driver, a first-class boy, called out there were lions coming on. he was the first to hear them--their noise is not to be mistaken when once heard. having listened some time, the sounds, which on a still night can be heard a long distance off, appeared to be approaching. our first care was to replenish the fire and pile up wood for two more, bring the foremost oxen close up to the waggon, making them fast to the wheels; the horse was placed between the waggon and fire, fastened to the front wheels, and more wood collected. during this time the lions appeared to be nearing us. after lighting the other two fires, i gave the boys a rifle each; myself and driver took up our position on the front waggon-box, that we might have a better view. the night being very still, not a sound was heard, except occasionally from our friends, as they evidently were very near. when about one o'clock in the morning the sounds ceased altogether; then we knew they had discovered us, and meant mischief. the last sounds appeared to be about yards distant. this was an exciting time, for at any moment we might expect them in our midst, and to seize some of the oxen or the horse. all was still as death, except when the kaffirs threw more wood on the fires. after waiting nearly an hour, the first indication of their presence was the restlessness of the oxen and horse, having scented them in the still air; but with all the glare of the fires they were not visible, the bush being so thick. we each took our rifles and stood between the oxen and the wood. the first warning sound was from my hottentot driver, dirk, who called out, "look sharp," and the next moment the report of his rifle. i was standing by his side, and saw the lion, not thirty paces from us, turn round, when i gave him a second bullet. he appeared to be severely wounded, as he only retreated a little distance, when he received a third from my driver, which brought him to the ground, and another in the head to make sure: a fine, full-grown lion. the other we never saw, he must have made his escape at the first shot. early in the morning, to save time, i had him skinned, and inspanned to make my morning trek before breakfast. two treks a day, morning and evening, nine miles each, if possible, but in this country you must be guided by water. the smell of the lion-skin at the back of the waggon made the oxen trek so fast that it was difficult to keep them under command. it is a very strange fact that calves born in the colony, grown into oxen, that have never seen or smelt a lion, should be so frightened at even the smell. instinct, i suppose, tells them they are no friends. those who have never seen a lion in his wild state can have no idea what a noble-looking animal he is. my driver dirk was elated at having given the first shot, being the first lion he ever shot at. every night in these parts we heard them at a distance. wolves came every night. a few nights after, one came close to the waggon about midnight, not thirty yards away. i merely took my rifle as i sat up in my bed and shot him in the chest--one of those large-spotted brown sort. they smelt the raw meat at the back of the waggon. wild dogs also this year came in large packs; they may be seen in one district for a short time, then they disappear for months. it is the same with the lions. the tiger (leopard) seldom leaves his haunts. the distance from motsodie to the great marico river road is forty-seven miles, from thence to the junction of the notuane river with the limpopo, seventy-four miles. on the road from whence i crossed the notuane river to the great marico road, the country is very dry and sandy, but the bush in places is very lovely. a great fire was raging on our right and coming down upon us with a strong wind; there was no means of escaping it, as high grass was in every direction, by trying to get past it; i therefore held still, set fire to the grass on our left of the road, which went blazing away at a great speed, that soon cleared a large extent of ground, where i brought my waggon into a safe position; if i had not done this, the waggon and all would have been destroyed. these grass-fires are very injurious to vegetation, killing the young trees and causing grass of a very coarse kind. this transport river road in dry weather is splendid, level and free from stones; some of the sluits are bad to cross. at the junction of the great marico river with the limpopo is a drift through the latter, and a pinkish granite crops up on its banks. wishing to have a swim, i took my towels from the waggon, and walked towards the river. on arriving at the bank, which is some fifty feet above the water, i saw on the sand beneath me a fine crocodile, on the opposite sand-bank, for the water was very low, three others basking in the sun below me, and two in the water, with a part of their heads and backs out. those on the opposite side saw me first, for they moved towards the water slowly, and entered it and disappeared, without making the slightest ripple in the water; their bright colours made them look anything but ugly. i thought it advisable to defer my bath to some more favourable opportunity. at this point sechele's territory terminates and the chief khama's begins. at the junction of the notuane and limpopo there are two drifts. at the upper one i had to repair before i could take my waggon through, which caused me a day's delay; i therefore fixed my camp under a very pretty clump of trees on the bank, where we were in the evening fully occupied in shooting wolves, this being a very noted place for them. having shot a hartebeest in the morning, we employed the evening in making biltong of the flesh, and placed it on the branches of the trees to dry, as it was getting dark, for in this latitude ( degrees minutes), immediately under the tropic of capricorn, night sets in very soon after sundown. several wolves came round the waggon; i thought at first in the dim light they were dogs, but soon discovered my mistake. we then made a plan to catch them, by placing two pieces of the raw meat about fifty yards from our camp, fastening them to a stump of a tree, just before the moon rose at ten o'clock, that we might see them when they came; then we all took up our position with our rifles, and waited. about eleven o'clock three large ones were seen coming from out of the wood towards the baits, which they soon found and seized, but the pieces were too firmly tied for them to take away, and then they began fighting over them, when two more made their appearance, creating quite a scene. it was then time to fire, and our four bullets settled two; the others before we could reload made off, although one was wounded as he made his escape. bringing the two dead ones to the camp, we watched a short time longer, when another was seen coming on, and when in the act of trying to drag the meat away, we shot him also, and another soon afterwards, making four, and very large ones. the next day they were skinned, as they are very useful for many purposes, and the day after, i shot a crocodile as he seemed asleep on the bank. he measured eleven feet. being only a short distance from the limpopo river, which is broad and in places very deep, these reptiles seem to swarm; and its well-wooded banks give shelter to hundreds of monkeys, and also to many beautiful birds. at the junction of the notuane river with the limpopo, the altitude is feet at the drift, which is one of the main roads from pretoria in the transvaal to the trading-station mongwato, and the chief khama's capital; the distance by road from the drift is seventy-three miles. the territory of sechele, which also includes those portions now claimed by the petty chiefs linsey at motsodie, and maklapan at chene chene, are valuable and well-wooded districts, with many native kraals; the people cultivate the land, use ploughs, and grow corn which supplies largely the inhabitants on the border of the transvaal, and is taken in exchange for english goods through traders from the cape colony, and they also rear large herds of cattle. if a settled form of government is established, and boer invasions put down, the country will soon become highly valuable as a market for british merchandise, as the natives are very industrious, and quite alive to the importance of trade; most of the beautiful karosses that find such a ready sale in the home markets are made by the bechuana people. in all these chiefs' territories they are excellent mechanics, manufacturing tools and utensils from native iron, and good forges are now being introduced. they have hitherto used for heating their metal, air-bags, connected by a tube, one placed under each arm, which they press to their side, which causes a blast sufficient to melt or heat the metal, which they hammer into form with stones. but this primitive mode is going out of use, and the ordinary bellows is being adopted. they purchase extensively of colonial traders, iron pots, kettles, saucepans, and tin utensils, as also every kind of wearing apparel, and if the country is protected from boer marauders, the british merchant may look forward at no distant date to an extension of trade in these regions, over and above the present sales, up to several millions annually, as the great stride towards civilisation during my time has been most satisfactory. twenty years ago, where one trader's waggon went in, in there were fifty, which was stopped on the retrocession of the transvaal to the boers, when a collapse took place, and has continued through the murderous attacks and robbery of the boers on the natives, but which, i trust, will now be put an end to by the british government proclaiming a protectorate over all this extensive and valuable region. chapter ten. the chief khama's territory of the bakalihari tribe of the bechuana family. from the last outspan on the notuane, at the junction of the limpopo, mentioned in the last chapter, the road for eight miles is close to the bank of the limpopo river, where i had some fishing, but instead of catching any fish, i caught a young iguana, two feet long, and had great difficulty to land him. it was necessary to kill the beast to release the hook. at the bend of the river the road turns north-west, and goes on to ba-mangwato. there are several cattle-posts at the bend belonging to khama's people and the traders at that station; and also immense ant-hills, of the same kind as those at motsodie. i measured one, twenty feet high and nearly sixty feet in circumference, made by these little white ants; my waggon looked quite small beside it. the climate here is very peculiar, hot sun, degrees in the shade, with cold blasts of wind every four or five minutes in regular waves, reducing the heat to degrees, which we feel very cold. this is one great cause of rheumatism and fever. to-day was almost melting with heat; i took shelter under the waggon, but had not been there three minutes when i had to get into the waggon, being so cold from the wind, which feels as if it came from a frozen region. if in a violent perspiration, fever comes on, if care is not taken to prevent a chill. the road from this place to mongwato is fifty-five miles. in the dry season there are only three places where water can be obtained. on one of the tributaries of the limpopo is a circular rock in the veldt, no other stones near it, fifteen feet in diameter, and similar in shape to a ball cut through the centre, and placed on the ground, only it belongs to the rock beneath the soil. this rock has been covered with carvings, the greater portion of which is nearly smooth by large animals rubbing against it, giving it quite a polish. sufficient lines are left to show it has been well cut with some sort of figures, and on one side where it curves in a little, and is out of the way of elephants, rhinoceros, and other animals, the carvings are nearly perfect. they represent paths with trees and fruit on each side; upon one is a snake crawling down with a fruit or round ball in its mouth, near it is a figure, and a little distance off another figure with wings, almost like an iguana, flying towards a man who is running away; his left foot is similar to that of a horse, the right one has two points--evidently satan; the intermediate spaces have many stars. the upper part of the stone has, in the centre, a small hollow of a cup-shape, with two circles of the same round the centre one. it is a very interesting monument, and appears to be very old, from the fact of the other portions being partly obliterated by the rubbing of animals against it. the rock is very hard and similar to those geologists call igneous. there are many rocks of the same description, with carvings of animals, snakes, and figures on them, and from their position they have been preserved from animals defacing them. in several parts of the country many of them are well executed. a few days previous to my arrival here in , three boers, with their waggons, were endeavouring to find a new drift in the limpopo river, and went in to cross to the opposite side. they had nearly reached the bank, when the foremost looked round and saw a large crocodile come up from the water and seize the head of the last man between his jaws, and disappear with him. his name was herman, a married man, twenty-six years of age. nothing more was seen of him but blood in the water. his widow, a few months after, consoled herself with another husband. at this time, soon after the british government had annexed the transvaal, the boers, wherever i met them, were always friendly--so much so, that i have often been invited to take one of their daughters for a wife. they were rather proud to have an englishman for a son-in-law. i was outspanned not many weeks back at a very pretty pool of water, or spring, the water of which fell into the notuane river, in what is termed the bush veldt, that i might have a little shooting. the second day an old boer and his wife came to me to ask if i would buy some ostrich feathers, taking me to be a trader, for all englishmen travelling through the country will do a little in the way of barter; therefore i told them if they were good i would. when coffee was handed to them as a matter of custom, they asked where my wife was. on stating i was single, the old vrow said i must have one of her daughters; she had two mooi (pretty) girls, and would bring them the next day for me to see when she brought the feathers. accordingly, the next day, true to her promise, she came with the old man and her two girls to the waggon; both very young, the eldest not more than seventeen, and not bad-looking for dutch girls, apparently very modest and shy, with a conscious look of what they were brought for. after settling about the feathers, the old mother pointed out her daughters to me, and told me, pointing to the eldest, she would make me a mooi vrow, and that she had a farm of her own and some stock. both the girls, sitting together by their mother, looked down and giggled every now and again, giving me sly glances from beneath their cappies (the usual covering for the head for old and young), and then another giggle. they had evidently been got up for the occasion by their smart dresses, well-made english boots, and clean white stockings, to show off a pretty foot and ankle, which certainly they both possessed, and were not backward in showing. this is very unusual, they generally have clumsy feet. when at home these articles are never worn, only leather shoes called veldtscoons, which the men make. they say--which is quite true--that stockings are dirty when you walk about in a sandy country. however, after a long visit, coffee and biscuits, i arranged that on my return i would come and pay them a visit, and talk over the matter, as my opinion was either of them would make excellent vrows, and left the best of friends. the old woman's last words were, "you can take my daughter as soon as you come for her," and an encouraging glance from the daughter terminated this interesting meeting, enhanced, as it was, by the anticipation of having the felicity soon to possess so charming a young lady. i have had many such offers from boers, who were favourable to englishmen at that time. however, unfortunately my pursuits called me in another direction. the country between the limpopo and ba-mangwato, the chief khama's station, is very pretty, plenty of guinea-fowls, partridges, and pows. far away from the road on the left, seven miles from the bend of the limpopo, is a large pan where lions are always known to be, and beyond is brakwater, where ten years before i lost an ox from out of my cattle kraal one dark night when outspanned. it is the custom, with all travellers when in the lion veldt to kraal their cattle at night. seventeen miles beyond brakwater are the khamitsie pits, where water seldom fails, and close to them is a large dry pan quite a mile in length. the road passing round at the upper end, and fifteen miles beyond, winds through the veldt into the ancient river-bed leading to mongwato. the whole region for hundreds of miles is one continuation of wood, inhabited by a few bushmen. the country for so many months without water is uninhabitable, except at the springs. the distance by this river road from molapololo to mongwato is miles. ba-mangwato, or shoshong, is the chief town of khama. the chief sekomo ruled at this station, until machin, his brother, drove him from the chieftainship, and at machin's death, after considerable fighting, khama, son of sekomo, became the chief of the people over this territory. they belong to the bakalihari tribe of the bechuana family. it is a very important station, situated at the foot of a long range of beautiful hills, and up an opening in the range, where an ancient river-bed passes through, and where the mission station and church are situated, it is one of the most romantic valleys in this part of the country. when i first knew the station, the rev. mr. mackenzie had charge, now the rev. mr. hepburn lives in a very comfortable house up this kloof. the hills are formed of various kinds of sandstone of a brown colour. at the back, some distance beyond the church, is a very singular hill, with a perpendicular cliff on the upper portion. the stratification makes it look like a regular wall, with its horizontal layers so regularly placed. in sekomo's and machin's time the town was much larger, but since the wars it is considerably diminished. the chief khama lives in the lower town, and has only one wife, being a good christian and a great help to the missionary. the traders' stores are also in the lower town, and form quite a little village by themselves. messrs. francis and clark have a fine store, and a building which is occasionally used as a concert-hall by the traders, who sometimes muster in considerable numbers, and out of so many a good band is got together. most of those stationed there are splendid musicians, both vocally and instrumentally, so that many an enjoyable evening is spent to break the monotony of a life so far removed from the outer world. they have also their cricket matches, horse races, lawn tennis, football, and other sports. mr. hepburn is indefatigable in his mission labour in civilising the natives, combined with the good example set them by the traders at the station. the chief khama is a gentleman in every sense of the word. i have met him and felt much pleasure in his society. he has prohibited spirits being sold to his people, and on my last visit but one he did me a great service, and helped me in the most kind way by taking charge of my oxen when i had been two days without water, having arrived at mongwato expecting to obtain some, but there was not a drop, not sufficient even for the people. on hearing of my arrival, he came down and took my oxen in his charge, sent them with one of his herds to his cattle-post eighteen miles away on the river mokalapse, to the north of the town, and kept them there for twelve days, until i could trek to matabeleland. he requires all travellers who enter his territory to call upon him, that he may know who is passing through, in case they require any help he can give. those who avoid doing so, if they get into trouble, must get out of it the best way they can. all the roads from the south meet at mongwato; one goes to lake n'gami, another to the chobe, two to the zambese, and one main road to the matabeleland, with branches leading to the victoria falls. the people at one time were very unruly and troublesome to travellers. in i was at the station when a trader came in with some brandy; we outspanned close together outside the town. the next day the traders at the station, and there were some fourteen, indulged too much; one in particular had so far forgotten himself as to take a leg of pork to the kotla or council enclosure, where the chief machin was sitting with his councillors, and held the leg of pork in the chief's face, and asked if he liked the smell. these kaffirs are like the jews with respect to pork. this created an uproar in the station; the trader was severely beaten, and the whole town turned out to kill all the white men. they, hearing of this, fortified themselves in their stores. hundreds of kaffirs paraded the town, visiting the waggons with their knobkerry and assagai, threatening destruction to all the white men. the course which i thought best to take was to sit on my front waggon-box and smoke my pipe; time after time hundreds surrounding my waggon, raising their assagais as if to hurl them at me, and brandishing their kerries. knowing the kaffir character pretty well, i went on smoking as if they were most friendly, and seeing they could make no impression, they rushed away to other parts of the town. at last the chief sent round some of his councillors to all white men, ordering them all out of the town, bag and baggage, by four o'clock the next day. mr. mackenzie, the missionary, left the day before to go to england. not having anything particular to do, i, with the trader who came in with me, inspanned in the evening to trek towards selene pan, forty-five miles on the road to molapololo, which we reached the following afternoon, and all that night and the next day traders came treking in, until thirty-six waggons had assembled and nearly fifty span of oxen, which looked more like a commando than traders flying from the wrath of a powerful chief. it was a very pretty sight. the man who committed this insult was too ill to be removed, and was left behind. he recovered, and, i think, became a wiser man. if it had occurred a few years before, he would have been killed, and the traders also. he richly deserved the punishment he received. this will show that the kaffirs at that time had been brought under great control, for no greater offence could be given than an insult to their chief. some little time after this affair, the chief, when solicited, allowed the traders to return. the chief khama dresses well, and looks like a gentleman. many of his people also dress, as well as the women. they are strong and well-made; some still wear their skin dresses and a profusion of beads and brass rings, but i think in a few years these will be abandoned for european clothes. begging is still largely practised, particularly for tobacco. they cultivate corn, mealies, pumpkins, melons extensively, and have large herds of cattle of all kinds, which are kept at the different posts away from the town, and milk is brought in on pack-oxen to those who have no cows. they also make kaffir beer from their kaffir corn, and, if well-made, it is very nice. this is the only extensive interior trading-station in this region. there are other trading-stations beyond: at tati gold-fields, and in matabeleland, and also at pontarnatinka, where mr. g. westbeach has a large store, and others beyond, and also on the north side of the zambese river, where a large and increasing trade is now being carried on by the english traders at the chief secheke's on the north side of the zambese. the main direct road from molapololo to mongwato runs north-north-east through a bush country with fine trees. the distance is miles, and very pretty, the formation being argillaceous limestone; most of the hills are sandstone. at a fountain at koopan, twenty miles on this road, are some large masses of sandstone rocks, standing out like walls of an old castle that cover an extensive area. in these rocks are many fossil remains of seeds, nuts, shells, ammonites, and one trilobite, also footprints of animals. as it was impossible to obtain them, i remained two days to make correct sketches and measurements, being most interesting specimens. in many parts of the interior, where this light sandstone has been exposed by denudation, particularly in the deep beds of those dry rivers in the kalahara, footprints are very numerous, which i have taken great care to copy, and also all the carvings on the rocks. the other permanent waters on this road are bartlanarme in the chalk-pits, and lepepe; also selene pan. both are favourite localities for the giraffe, and here i have remained several days to hunt them, and was fortunate enough to shoot one out of five that were coming to drink. eight miles from bartlanarme we shot two out of seven, and at another time mr. hume, of port elizabeth, a hunter, came upon several, and shot three from the saddle, from my horse, which i lent him. one we had brought to the waggon, and left the other two for the bushmen. the flesh is very fine. it is a pity such beautiful animals should be destroyed merely for food and skins. in this part almost every variety of game is to be found. such a vast extent of open country--where the white man is never seen beyond the transport road, and its inhabitants bushmen only,--extending in an uninterrupted forest westward miles, and the same in breadth, is no small hunting-ground to roam over for a hunter to pick his game. twenty years ago, i may say up to , game, as well as lions, wolves, and other beasts of prey, were much more numerous than at the present time. in the north and west of khama's country up to the zambese, along the zouga river, are the great makarakara pans, and others; the large game, such as elephants, rhinoceros, buffalo, and giraffe, were plentiful, but of late years many hunters have been for months and scarcely met with any. the country along the zouga river is very level. this river enters, or, i may say, empties lake n'gami, the altitude being feet, and flows to the great pan above-named in april and may, and in june and july flows into the lake. the only outlet for the surplus water of the zouga is the mababe river to the chobe, one of the main streams of the zambese, and the water in the mababe flows either way according to the rainfall, showing the perfect level of the country. gigantic trees grow along these rivers and the region adjoining; baobab, measuring feet in girth, the palms, mapana, and other tropical trees and plants. a great portion of this country the chief khama claims, where there are several kraals of the makalaka, batletle, barutse, bakalihari, and others, also many of the mesere bushmen, and a few hottentots and korannas. this region is a portion of the zambese basin, and the northern part is infested with the tsetse-fly, the sting or bite of which is fatal to horses and cattle; but i have been told by the natives, that if calves and colts are bred in the fly-country, they are proof to the bite. we know that all the game in those districts are not affected by the bite, and that may be the reason. the sickly season is from september to may. many parts are open, with little bush; another part of the desert is thick bush, and very scarce of water in the dry season, and is a part of what is called thirst-land (thirst) from the dryness of the country, and where the trek boers suffered so much in their journey to the westward in . in that year i was at mongwato, and came in for my share a few months later, when there in october of that year. mr. harry shelton, who had a large store at leshulatebes station, lake n'gami, was coming to mongwato with several of his waggons for goods, and two saddle-horses he had with him, having treked miles along the road which skirts the river zouga; he was obliged to leave his waggons and oxen, as no water would be found between that place and mongwato, a distance of miles, and came on with his two horses, but on the road was obliged to leave one of them from exhaustion, and managed to come in with the other, and was obliged to be lifted from the saddle on his arrival, having been nearly four days without water. on his return fourteen days after, he expected, of course, to see the horse dead and eaten by lions; but he found him standing by the same bush he was left at, and he recovered. this shows how long a horse may live under such circumstances. horses, however, knock up far sooner than oxen from thirst. the lions and wolves must have forsaken the country as well as the game, otherwise the horse would have been eaten. most of his oxen had died on his return, principally from licking the moist mud in the pans and river. when so many days without water they cannot drink when brought to it. the only means then of preserving their lives is to throw buckets of water over them; but this does not always succeed. such are the trials and hardships we have to put up with in a region so liable to long seasons of drought, and where the country is so destitute of springs or standing water. but with all these drawbacks there is a fascination that impels one on to explore these remote and little-known regions. the bright and clear atmosphere, the lovely mornings and evenings for travelling, the constant change of scene, the splendid tints of the sunsets, and variety of foliage of the vegetation, the calmness of everything around, and the constant excitement of strange game to be seen, is a pleasure we can seldom enjoy, and, as i have before stated, the only true enjoyment in africa is waggon travelling in the interior, where time is not limited. the watershed dividing the zambese and the limpopo basins runs to the east of the great makarakara pans, in a north-east direction through the mashona and matabele country, and from the south-west to the kalahara desert near kaikai pits, the elevation being feet above sea-level. the principal antelopes of this region are the eland, koodoo, gemsbok, sable, and leechy or lechi, pallah, ourebi, bonte, rooy, reit, bush and steinboks, springbok, hartebeest, giraffes, and grysbok, and the zebra, and many other kinds, which are all to be found in different localities; and legions of the ant-bear, porcupine, earth-wolf, earth-pig, spring-hare, meercats, and other smaller animals; wild boar and wild dogs are seen in large packs, sometimes only a few are together; consequently with the larger game there is always plenty of sport to be found, if hunting is the sole amusement; but, combined with natural history, geology, and other sciences, an explorer has not much idle time on his hands. locusts made this part their breeding-ground, depositing their eggs by the million, and in october there would be immense tracts of country covered with them several inches deep. before their wings came, and as the waggons travelled along the roads, thousands were killed at every turn of the wheels. the natives eat them, and some cattle are very fond of them also. it is nearly seven years since any have been seen in south africa. there are many kinds of wild teas found in the veldt, which i have used for months, and like them. fine forests of timber occupy a large portion of this region, other parts are more properly termed bush, although many trees grow in them, and extensive open plains. the fine flat-topped kameel doom is very common, palms, baobab, bockenhout or african beech, zuikerbosh, acacia, kaffir orange, ebenhout or ebony, yellow wood or yeelhout, knopjis, doorn or lignum-vitae, cabbage tree, mahogany, sneezewood, wild olive and fig, stinkwood, salicwood, orlean wood or african oak, vittkut, mimosa thorn, wagt-een-beitje, the african name is mongharn, and a host of other trees; tuberous roots of many varieties, some eaten by the natives, and are used medicinally, and others would make good paper--an endless variety of herbs, of which we at present know but little. the insect-world is legion; immense hairy spiders, and also the trap-door spider is a wonderful creature, the mechanism of hinge, door, and entrance are perfect works of art. i was told by some of the people at mongwato that there are in khama's territory over cattle-posts, in addition to vieh-posts for sheep and bucks. the main and only transport road from mongwato to the matabeleland passes along by the east end of the range of hills by the town, through a thick bush to the mokalapsie river, thirty miles, a large and broad stream in the rainy season. upon its banks are many cattle-posts, and it is much visited by lions. from this river the road continues in a north-north-east direction, crossing the metley or sand river, tuane, on to chakani pan, distant from mongwato fifty-four miles, one of the most lovely spots on this road, where i spent three weeks exploring. i outspanned under a clump of trees close to the pan, but had to shift my waggon into the open, the trees being full of tree-toads, and large lizards occupied every hole in them. the toads would drop down on to my waggon and make themselves very comfortable on my boxes and bed. the large lizard had every look of being a dangerous reptile to have a bite from. they were beautifully marked, the front of the head had a well-shaped heart of a silver grey, with a well-shaped letter y of a rich red brown. i endeavoured to obtain a specimen, but could not get them to come out. there are some very fine specimens of the euphorbia and lotus trees away in the bush, and also fine timber trees of other kinds. my delay here for three weeks was compulsory, as there was no water to be had beyond this point for miles. this being part of the doorst land, and as the season had been very dry, all the pans were empty. i was compelled to wait until the storms, which are usual at this time of year (october), filled them. the last week of my stay severe thunderstorms were seen in the north every afternoon, which gave me hope of a good supply on the road, and occasionally we had severe storms at the pan, but not a drop of rain fell. the lightning was terrific; and the thunder following, rolling over the hills and forest trees, shaking the very ground, was grand. i always kept from three to four days' supply of water in my waggons, in casks and iron cans, never leaving without having them filled, which i personally looked to. but in this case i omitted doing so, thinking my driver would attend to it, as i had been out early in the saddle after game, and arrived at the waggon as the oxen were inspanned ready to go forward, as i fully believed water would be plentiful; therefore, on leaving chakani pan, i thought we were full up with water, instead of which we had only a day's supply. to give a clearer insight what travelling is in a parched-up country like this, where rain has not fallen for six months, i will quote from my journal a week's trek through it. _tuesday, october th_.--left chakani pan at a.m. travelled over very heavy sand for nine miles to a large open vlei called lemonie, which, when full of water, is nearly a mile in length, a great resort for wild-fowl and that beautiful bird the berg swallow, the size of a dove, with a brilliant golden copper-colour plumage on the back, and light salmon colour and sky-blue breast. this pan is surrounded by gentle rising ground with bush, where i endeavoured to secure some of those small birds that are rare even here, being of a dark golden-purple, and less in size than our common wren at home. finding no water, i proceeded on to lotsane river, nine miles, and outspanned for the night; no water. found for the first time all our water-casks empty, my driver having forgotten to fill them at chakani pan. having explored up and down the river without finding any, after one kettle of coffee being made, went to bed, with the hope of finding water to-morrow. _wednesday, th, a.m_.--sent my driver out and went myself to look for water; no signs of any. treked three miles and outspanned to give oxen a feed on green young grass, as they have not had water since monday afternoon. went without coffee this morning to reserve what little we have for our mid-day meal, then it will be exhausted. this is the first time for twelve years i have been without water by my waggon. _thursday, th_.--retraced my steps six miles, as i met a boer with his two waggons, who told me he had got a bushman to show him where the oxen could get water, about two miles off the road, in the bush. sent my span and boys down to it, but the water was so muddy i could not drink it; filled two bottles, such as it was. the boer told me i could get good water eight miles beyond phalasque vlei, the pan being a mile to the right of the road, then i could get water along the road to carry me to the tati river; consequently, shall start early to-morrow to reach it. _friday, th_.--inspanned at a.m. no sign of rain, although plenty of storms. treked on to phalasque vlei; no water. then pushed on over a fearful sandy road at the rate of one and a half miles an hour. thermometer degrees in the waggon. this is a god-forsaken country, no people, no game, no birds, no water, nothing but hot sandy roads to travel over, but beautifully-wooded and fine grass. reached the spot described by the boer, saddled-up to look for the pan, found two, both dry. treked on another five miles, and outspanned for the night; no water for man or beast; my forelooper drank up what little remained in the night. he is what is termed a cape boy, a perfect beast in the way of eating and drinking. my driver, a hottentot, is a fine fellow, good at everything. _saturday, th_.--sent dirk forward early to look for water; went as far as suruly kop, nine miles, where i had always found water in the pan, but it was dry and hard. it was now getting serious, as i knew if this pan failed, there was very little chance of getting any this side of tati, so i turned back six miles and remained the night where i had previously slept. fortunately the grass was young and green for the oxen, which relieved them to some extent. no water these last two days, not a drop in the waggon; i have brandy, but could not take any, a small teaspoonful the stomach would not retain. to eat is out of the question; i have tried several times, but cannot swallow. _sunday morning, st_.--inspanned and retraced our steps six miles, as i intend to return to chakani pan, where i know there is water. my driver asked for his rifle, as he would take a bushman-path through the bush, which he thought would lead to water. he left me about a.m. all that day he never returned, which has given me great anxiety, knowing the country swarms with lions. all night kept firing off my rifle that he might know my whereabouts. at daybreak the wolves and jackals began to let me know they were not far off. _monday, nd_.--dirk, my driver, not returned. i shall never see him any more! passed a fearfully anxious night; my thirst is intense; fourth day without a drop of liquid passing my lips. to stay here is death! set to work with my forelooper, inspanned the oxen, and travelled night and day to reach chakani. arrived at phalasque vlei at a.m. outspanned to give them a little green grass before going on. no sooner were they free from the yoke than they started off through the bush, evidently after water. my loop-boy i sent after them to bring them back, but instead of following them, he went behind some bushes and sat down. there i remained alone with my waggon in the dry veldt, my driver, as i thought, killed by lions, and now my oxen gone, and my boy nearly dead. the weather intensely hot, degrees in the shade. i have only one chance; leave the waggon and all my belongings to be plundered by the bushmen, and walk to chakani, a distance of thirty miles. whilst revolving this plan in my head, a bushman came from under the trees to me. i made him understand i wanted him to fetch me a small tin of water; i offered him powder, caps, and other things, worth about two pounds; but he said it was far, pointing with his finger in the direction, and left me. i never saw him again. having made up my mind to start the next morning by daybreak, with my rifle and a few biscuits, for the water, as it would not be safe at night for lions, i heard some footsteps coming on; looking in the direction, saw my driver dirk within, a hundred yards. never was i more pleased to see a human being, and gave him a good shake of the hand, but he brought no water. he told me after he left the waggon, the day before, he walked on for hours until it got dark, and he wandered about looking for water, so that he lost the direction he came. hearing several lions, he selected a nice tree and climbed up, where he spent the night, and shot two large wolves. at daybreak he climbed down and found five bushmen looking about; when they saw him they came up. he asked for water, but they said there was none, which dirk believes was not true. they wanted to look at the gun, but he was wise enough to keep it from them; seeing he was alone, they might have kept it. however, he left them by the two dead wolves, and managed to strike the road, and saw the spoor of my waggon, and followed it down to where i was outspanned. when i told him of the forelooper and the oxen he said he would go at once and follow their spoor, otherwise we should never see them again, and asked for a little brandy to wash his mouth out, for he, as well as myself, could not articulate plainly, and then started after them about p.m. i was again left alone to pass another sleepless night, and the fifth day without water or food. i frequently rinsed my mouth out with brandy, which kept my tongue from swelling. it was a lovely moonlight night, and, under other circumstances, i should have enjoyed it amazingly, for the country round was peculiar for the many stone koptjies, feet in height, large masses of granite, piled up in most grotesque forms, with flowering plants growing between them. to pass away this anxious time i took my rifles to inspect them; on my return i found my poor little terrier dog on the point of death. i took him up in my lap; and with a piteous shriek he fell dead. poor little thing, he must have suffered acutely. my other dog, "bull," died on sunday, so here i am alone, miles from any white man. once more passed the night smoking on my waggon-box, the only thing that i could do, and about a.m., on tuesday rd, as i was lying down in my waggon, i caught the sound of oxen's feet on the road, which proved to be mine, with my driver and forelooper bringing them on, and holding up a can to show me they had water. what a relief! we are saved!--for i was far too weak to walk alone miles, and carry a rifle and food for so long a journey. my driver told me after he left yesterday to follow up the spoor of the oxen, he found my boy asleep under a bush, about a mile from the waggon, and took him with him, and after six hours' walk came upon the oxen, where they had been drinking at a kind of swamp in a valley, and some twelve miles from the road we had travelled a few days before. five bushmen were driving them over the brow of the hill to be out of sight of any one looking after them.--dirk fired his rifle to give them notice that some one was near, when the bushmen dispersed out of sight, and he brought back the oxen as before stated. five minutes later, and it might have been too late. it was a most fortunate recovery for us all, and for me in particular. the water, about three pints brought, was worth much more to us than its weight in gold. i took a few tea-spoonsful at a time, and with the rest we made some tea, and soon after inspanned and treked to chakani pan, there to wait again for rain. after we had been a week there a very singular affair occurred. it happened to be one of those dark stormy nights without rain; my driver and the boy were sleeping in a tent attached to the waggon. about a.m. he woke me and said there was some kind of an animal wanted to get under the waggon, being pursued by two others. it had twice got under, and being disturbed by the driver, left, but kept going round, still followed by two others. i was up with my rifle, for in these parts we are soon ready for what may turn up. at last the poor beast, whatever it was, took safety between the two after oxen as they were fastened to the waggon, and stood there quite quiet; the other two that followed stood a little way off. by stooping low to get the animal above the horizon, we found it was a large rooi buck, and the others were wild dogs that had been chasing it, until all three were completely exhausted, and could run no more. jumping from the waggon i tried to get a fair shot at the dogs, but the uncertain light prevented my making a good shot. while so engaged my driver shot the poor buck that had come to us for safety, which i was very sorry for, as i wished to shoot the dogs, which we could have done as daylight was near, and then i would have let the poor beast go. one dog i did shoot, the other made his escape. on looking round the waggon in the morning the whole ground was covered with their spoor, and close to the waggon it was completely trampled; they must have run at least twenty miles before they came to us, from the exhausted state they were in. the most remarkable circumstance was that a buck in a wild country like this, seldom seeing a waggon, should have had the sense to know, for it is not what is called instinct, and should feel if he could get under the waggon, his pursuers would be afraid to follow, and he would be safe, so came to us for protection. i was much annoyed that my driver shot him, for he should certainly have had his liberty in the morning. the foregoing will give a slight idea of some of the trials explorers meet with in travelling through regions where water is so scarce. i remained at this pan up to th november; having consumed all the water in it, and still no rain, fearful thunderstorms without any, i was compelled to fall back on mongwato, and retrace my steps fifty-four miles to procure it. during my long stay at this pan, i had very little sport, a few rooi bucks and guinea-fowl, also pheasants, partridges, and doves. i was always out with my gun, and my oxen grazed where they liked, knowing they would come for water once or twice a day, not thinking for a moment there were any dangerous animals near. but on the th, at a.m., we were preparing coffee ready for a trek, when we saw two of the largest wild pigs i ever fell in with, come down to drink, not a hundred yards from the waggon, on the opposite side of the pan. one we soon secured, having received two shots, the other quickly escaped. this delayed us until a.m., when we treked, and had not gone a quarter of a mile, passing a little stone kopjie, with beautiful euphorbia and other trees, when we saw, as we thought, six rooi bucks out on the outskirts of the wood, and yards from the road. finding they did not move, although they were looking at us, being in long grass we were deceived as to the nature of the animals, and when we were opposite we stopped. i and the driver jumped off the waggon with our rifles, with only one charge, and were walking up to them, when they seemed to be walking down towards us. i was about to fire when dirk called out, "don't fire, they are tigers." lowering the rifle to have a better look, sure enough they were six beauties, with their sleek spotted coats, which made them look very handsome. as we were at least fifty yards from the waggon, if we had fired with no more ammunition, and they had come down upon us, it would have been very awkward. we therefore stood our ground, watching them stretch themselves on the ground, and then stand up, looking at us with heads erect, until they quietly turned into the wood; and we followed their example, and turned into the waggon. it was no use attempting to follow them up, we were only two, and could do very little, and they might have done a great deal to us. this hill is about a hundred and fifty feet high, and almost daily i have walked round and over it with my shot-gun, and saw nothing but guinea-fowl. and so ended this little leopard affair, and we proceeded on our way towards mongwato, sadly inconvenienced for want of water for the oxen. but at mokalapsie river, by digging two feet in the sand between the granite rocks in its bed, we obtained it in sufficient quantity to satisfy the oxen. the lions have been a great trouble to those who keep cattle-posts on this river-bank; the night before my arrival, they killed a horse belonging to mr. francis. many singular isolated conical hills, over a hundred feet in height, add greatly to the beauty of the scenery, but are great covers for the lion and leopard. very warm, thermometer degrees in the shade. everything very dry. pushed on to mongwato for water. on my arrival there was told there was no water for oxen, and if rain does not fall the people will have to leave the town and go down to the limpopo river. the chief khama came to me and said he would take charge of my oxen and horse, and send them to the same kraal he sent them before, if i would send a man to look after them, with one of his, and keep them until wanted. this kind offer was gladly accepted, consequently i had to wait for rain. on the st november a boer came in and told me rain had fallen in the north, and that i could now trek up; but as the other boer i had met on the road deceived me, i took no notice of the information, and it turned out he wilfully deceived me. i spent many pleasant evenings with the rev. mr. hepburn and the traders at the station, musical parties at francis' store, and cricket matches in the day. bought a muid of boer meal, that is, wheat ground, for pounds shillings the lbs. a few days later we had a fine storm, with heavy rain, and on the th started again for the north, and arrived again at chakani pan on the th, which was full of nice fresh water, and found a troop of ostriches drinking at it. from thence i pushed on, the grass being burnt up by the drought, and arrived at gowkwe river, one of the tributaries of the limpopo, as are all those i crossed from mongwato. two miles back from this, to the right of the road, is the first baobab tree, a young one, twenty-seven feet in circumference, with several large nests, each forming quite a town. the entire country is a thick wood, stretching in every direction hundreds of miles. the belief does not hold good in this region that forests bring rain, for it is one of the driest parts of central south africa, and has been named thirst-land, from its proverbial dryness, as my experience can also testify. from december to the following may water may be obtained; the rest of the year it is like what i have already described, consequently game is scarce in the dry season; it always follows the rain. from gowkwe river the road continues on to the river shasha, the boundary the chief khama claimed when he gave me his boundary-line, but this the matabele king disputes, and claims down to the macloutsie river, and, in fact, all khama's country, from previous conquest, but khama holds possession. the road from gowkwe crosses several rivers between it and the shasha. the sand river is broad and pretty, and falls into the macloutsie, which is about the same size, tributaries of the limpopo. they rise in the hill district of the watershed separating the zambese basin from the limpopo. the distance from mongwato to the shasha by road is miles, crossing the shasha river, where we find granite and gneiss rocks, the sand being very deep in its bed, which is about yards broad, with very steep banks on both sides. no water is ever found in any of these rivers, except in the rainy season, and then it comes down with a rush, sometimes rising twenty feet, but lasts only a few days or weeks. this river, according to the chief khama, is his northern boundary, but this lo-bengulu, the matabele king, will not acknowledge. however, after crossing the river, the road continues north for six miles, and the tati river is crossed, of the same size and character as the shasha. on its northern bank is the tati station, where there are a few houses occupied by english traders, and a few boer families, and the ruins of the large building once the store of the tati gold company, under sir john swinbourne, which will be more fully described in a future chapter. the road branches off from the tati station, runs in a north-west direction nearly the entire way. the main road from tati to matabeleland runs nearly north. the roads through the western portion of khama's territory leave ba-mangwato station and go west for thirty-five miles, where the road branches off at khabala sand-pits from the lake n'gami road, and continues north for miles until the large brak vlei makarakara is reached. thirty miles from khabala pits there are two roads at loata, which join again at makwa pits, a distance of sixty-four miles between the two. thirty five miles beyond is berg fountain, close to the great vlei above-named. the road continues along the eastern shore sixty-six miles to the north-east point of the vlei, where the nata falls into it. from the crossing of the nata to daka the road runs in a north-north-east direction, the distance being miles, passing many vleis; the principal ones treking north are veremoklane, twenty miles, great ramakanyane, eighteen miles, tamakanya vlei, seventeen miles, juruka vlei, tamafo pan, tamasibu vlei, stoffolds vlei, henvicks vlei, tabikies vlei, which is twenty miles south of daka. the road to panda-ma-tenka is eighteen miles, where mr. george westbeach has a large store, and is the principal trader for all that region, even to beyond the zambese river at seshekes and the country round. he has a store there, and another nearer the victoria falls, seven miles beyond his large store. all this part of the country is drained by sluits running to the zimboya river, which is a small tributary of the zambese, which it enters about sixty miles below the falls, together with another small branch, lutuisi river, that falls into the great river about ten miles below the zimboya at a great bend of the zambese, both passing through wankie's territory, which now belongs to the matabele king. from mr. westbeach's great store to the victoria falls is about thirty-two miles. at the falls, or above the fall, the river is nearly a mile in width, and is feet above sea-level. the perpendicular fall extends the whole way, falling into a narrow fissure to some feet in depth, but the opposite or lower side is so close, and on nearly the same level with the upper fall, that it is impossible to see the bottom from the perpetual mist or spray that rises near the centre of the fall. the outlet of the water passes down a narrow gorge in a sort of zigzag shape, between lofty rocks, rushing down at a great speed until the river opens out. it is impossible to take any accurate drawings of the falls, there is no position in which an artist can take up a position to make an accurate drawing. i have seen many, but they are greatly deficient in portraying the falls as they are, or giving a correct idea of their magnificence. the island on the south side immediately on the brink of the fall adds much beauty to the scene. the tropical trees and plants growing everywhere about add an extra charm to the landscape. thirty-seven miles above the falls the chobe river, one of the main branches of the zambese, comes in, which, as described in the river basin system, forms the northern boundary of the chief khama's territory, that is, from the victoria falls to the chobe, up that river for forty-five miles, then crosses the desert to the sira pan on south, crossing the zouga or bot-let-le river to dorokarra kraal in a south-west direction to makapolo vlei, which is the extreme western point, then turns south-east, crossing the desert to selene pan, which is forty-five miles south of mongwato, then down to the junction of the notuane and limpopo. south of this line belongs to the chief sechele, and the western boundary to the chief molemo at lake n'gami. the road from walfish bay to the victoria falls passes south of this lake to batuana town, where the chief molemo rules, along the south side of the zouga to the town of dorokarra, where it crosses on to the north side, past the tree with feet, going east along by the pits and pools, salt-pan, seven palms, to mahutu, then turns nearly north, and joins the other road from mongwato, at garuga, on to panda-ma-tenka, mr. westbeach's stores, and victoria falls, which are called mosioatanga. the road to mongwato from molemo's town is the same to dorokarra, then turns south-east, following the river to kumadua lake or vlei, which is part of the zouga river, then strikes east to nchokotsa, and from thence south-east to mongwato, passing several pans, the most permanent waters being at klakane and inkotsanges lime-pits. where the road leaves the zouga there is a drift, and a road runs due north, passing through the western end of the great salt vlei ntwetwe, on past the great baobab letter-tree, passing a salt-pan on the left, crossing the road going to the victoria falls, on to kamakama, through the sandy forest of mapani trees to the mababe river and linyanti on the chobe, the chief skeletu's town. several other roads cross this part of the desert from panda-ma-tenka. the distance by road from lake n'gami is miles, that is, from the lake to kumadua lake, and from there to mongwato, consequently in a very dry season there is no water to be obtained in this last distance, and where the trek boers, in , lost so many of their people, oxen, and waggons. there are many hundred pans, but dry in winter. there is game of every kind all over this region, but they follow the water. the great brak pan, makarakara, is also dry at that time. when water is in, it is over fifty miles, both north and south, quite an inland sea. sand is everywhere, the roads are fearful, quite up to the mababe river. many of the mapani trees grow to a great size; the leaf has a sweet gummy sort of varnish, of which the elephants are very fond. the palm grows about forty feet in height; the wood is very hard, an axe with a hard blow will not penetrate. the gigantic tree, the baobab, grows extensively over all these regions. they are prominent objects in the country through which you pass. many of the stems exceed in circumference feet; their height is not in proportion to the bole; few exceed eighty feet. the tree spreads and covers a large extent of ground; the bark is used to make ropes, and blankets can be manufactured from it. i obtained one, which is exceedingly strong. bags are also made to hold water or milk. the fruit is used to make a refreshing drink. this tree is also called the cream of tartar; the fruit is similar and much larger than an ostrich egg. these trees are calculated to be, the largest of them, nearly years old. the country generally is flat; there are a few hills down by the zimboya and lutuisi rivers to wankie's, on the river, conical and flat-topped. but this part is out of khama's territory. all east of panda-ma-tenka now belongs to the matabele king. wankie's people and town are now on the north side of the zambese. to the west of that station is the lechuma valley. south of daka the land rises gradually from the victoria falls, the falls being feet above sea-level, and the land south of daka is feet at the highest point. the southern slopes gradually down to an altitude of feet near the great salt vlei makarakara. the sickly season is from september to may. south of the zouga the land rises gradually until it reaches the central watershed, at an altitude of feet. at all the permanent waters and along the rivers are kraals occupied by many tribes, under the chief khama, who, with the greater portion of his people, belongs to the bakalihari tribe. the distance of the victoria falls from ba-mangwato is miles, and the distance from walfish bay to the falls is miles. chapter eleven. the chief molemo. [this chapter concludes the list of the bechuana family in south central africa, and also of that portion lying to the north of this family, on to the chobe and zambese, which has not been fully described in the account given in the kalahara desert.] the territory claimed by this chief, a branch of the bakalahari tribe of the bechuana family, joins on to the chief khama's from the makapolo vlei, which is situated miles south of the town of batuana, where the chief molemo lives, along the former chief's boundary on to sira pan, where it leaves khama's territory, and strikes west to kabats hill on to the mababe river, where the continuation of the okavango falls in; up that river to the tonga, then due south to omdraai, ghanz lime-pits to makapolo vlei, lake n'gami being nearly in the centre of this chief's territory. all north and east of this lake is flat, and in many parts contains extensive swamps and lagoons, swarming with crocodiles, hippopotami, iguanas, snakes, and other creeping things. the miasma rising from these low-lying grounds, where the decomposition of all vegetation under the tropical sun brings on fever, is very fatal to europeans. during the dry season, from may to september, there is very little danger in travelling through this region. the tonga, or as some call it, the teoghe, the continuation of the cubango, or as it is sometimes called, the okavango quito. down the tonga from the northern boundary are many rapids. the water entering the north-west point of lake n'gami, the principal portion of the waters of the above rivers is lost in those extensive swamps, and eventually falls into the chobe. natives live on some of the islands and along their borders. very fine timber, particularly the baobab, grow along these banks. the zouga or bot-let-le river is the outlet of the waters of lake n'gami, but the flow of water down the tonga is not sufficient to keep even the lake full, consequently there is little surface-water to supply the zouga. if there is at any time a great rush into the lake, the surplus water is carried to the chobe, through the mababe river, the southern portion of which is called the tamabakan. the population is only to be found along the banks of the lake and rivers. batuana is a large town with several traders who assisted me in many ways, and were very kind. mr. skelton was doing an extensive business; he formerly kept a store at secheles, but he is since dead. the huts are circular, made of mud with high thatched roofs. some portion of the people dress in good english clothes. the father of molemo, leshulitebes, was very fond of dressing well, and very partial to patent leather boots and a tall hat. bell valley is on the south-west of the lake, where there are many large baobab trees. close to mamahahuie, a kraal on the walfish bay road, is an outspanning station. beyond is quarantine vlei, mozelenza, sebubumpie, konies, all within a radius of ten miles, occupied by the batuanas, a branch of the bakalahari tribe of the bechuana family; the same as the chief khama who, sixty years ago, came and settled here, subjugating the former people, and intermarried with them. twenty miles from molemo's town is lesatsilebes, another large kraal, ma tabbin, opposite where the mababe flows out of the zouga. the country north of the last-named river is intersected with langte, large and small pans in every direction; sand everywhere, but good grass in the rainy season. on the south of the river the nyabisani flats extend a long way up to goose vleis, south of the makkapolo hills, long open flats and thickly wooded in places, palms and every other tropical tree grow. game of every kind is found in this region, but very wild. i shot a gemsbok early in the morning. they are pretty animals, rather larger than a zebra, nearly the colour of a donkey, with black marks down the back and along the flanks, whitish legs marked with black band, light face with black down the front, long black tail almost touching the ground, a stand-up mane, and a long bunch of hair on the chest, horns perfectly straight with sharp points, and this one had horns three feet eight inches in length. they have been known to transfix a lion, they being found both dead together. roads from the lake branch off to linyanti on the chobe, to the victoria falls miles, to ba-mangwato miles, to secheles miles, to walfish bay miles, and to the orange river miles. the country over which this chief rules is comprised in the kalahara desert. this country is on the south of the zambese, the eastern boundary joins up to the chief khama's, and south by the chief molemo. the chobe passes through the central part, from the west to where it enters the zambese, thirty-seven miles above the victoria falls. it has often been a question which is the main stream of the zambese, the chobe, or the northern branch. between these two streams is the barutsie valley, and on the north bank of the chobe is a large kraal, linyanti, where the chief skeletu resided. for many years there have been continual wars going on between the makopolo or makololo and the barutsie tribe, who lived on the north bank of the northern branch of the zambese, under the chief sesheke, fighting for the chieftainship. skeletu is dead, wana wana was killed, and sesheke, or, as some spell his name, shesheke, has been murdered by his subjects for his cruelties. the country supports an immense number of cattle, and it is also the elephant country; so no european has been allowed to hunt in that region. the makopolos or makololos, once the most powerful tribe in this part of africa, have been dispersed and destroyed, a few only escaping, and they now live with the mixed races along the several rivers. there are many kraals along the various streams, and in the hill district of ngwa, intersected by many watercourses; sekelula, linyanti, are some of the most noted. the kabats hill is on the southern border. it is thickly wooded, with the mapani tree, palms, baobab, and nearly all kinds of tropical plants, as also the wild grape. in the northern portion of the barutsie valley, on the banks of the zambese, are also many important native kraals: mosamko, nambewe, konye, nobombo, nomite, and others. as i have already stated, shesheke lived on the north bank, as also sekhosi, thirty miles higher up the river. this entire country is now under the chief of the barutsie tribe. there is also a large native location higher up the chobe beyond linyanti, matambaya, and many villages on its bank. wild cotton is abundant all over this country, which is suitable for its growth, and may be, if properly cultivated, the finest cotton-field in the world. wild game of every description abounds in this extensive and unhealthy portion of africa. the chobe was followed up to degrees minutes, south latitude, where two branches come down from the north. the chobe is a fine river, with many rapids and falls, and swarms with crocodiles and hippopotami, snakes and iguana. the natives have many canoes and are great fishermen, using a kind of harpoon for the larger fish. the mambo natives are very expert in this sport and lay traps for them. bows and arrows and spears are the general weapons used, but many guns have been introduced into the country of late years. the arrows are poisoned with the seed of a plant that is a runner, very large, the petals long, flowers yellow, from which the poison is extracted. i met with several of the wayeiye natives on the tonga, who hunt the hippopotamus and crocodile. when at my station on that river, opposite nakane village, in , a curious affair occurred, which shows the wonderful amount of sense and affection crocodiles possess. a little below my waggon, a native boy caught a young crocodile about a foot in length, and took it up to the huts, and put it into an old basket. about two hours afterwards, my driver called out there was a large crocodile crawling up the bank, and making for the hut where the young one was in the basket, the natives running away. on looking out of my waggon, sure enough, a large one, about eleven feet in length, was up to the basket, when my kaffirs ran up with rifles and shot it. the distance of the hut from the river was over yards. it was impossible to say how the mother found out the whereabouts of her baby; it might have been by smell, or she might have seen the boy put it into the basket. i have heard many similar statements from the natives, of the old ones following their young when taken, but put little faith in them until i absolutely saw for myself the truth of these statements. crocodiles are also very tender over their eggs; they scratch a hole in the sand, lay about a dozen, then cover them with sand, and watch with great care until the young come forth. the altitude of linyanti above sea-level is feet, the same as the water-level of the chobe, lake n'gami, river zouga, and the large brak vlei makarakara, showing the perfect level of these points. this country is full of pans and vleis, dense bush, sand everywhere, not a stone to be seen in all this region. at a vlei called sixteen vlei, the road goes to the victoria falls; but with all its flatness, there is an indescribable charm in travelling through it; there are so many novel objects to take the attention of an explorer, in addition to hunting, and sometimes being hunted by the large game when stalking them in the dense bush or under lofty trees, far away from the human world. one may die and be forgotten, and no one may ever hear how. my death has been reported twice, at different times, to the governor of the cape, once by the rev. mr. thomas, of shiloh in matabeleland, in , that i had been killed by the makalakas, in the desert, my waggon destroyed, and property taken, and my friends in the colony in duty bound were mourning my loss for several years, as i had not been down south, having treked far in beyond any white traders, and was never heard of. i was pursuing my work in blissful ignorance of the many tears that had been shed for the lone traveller in savage lands. when i came south, after being buried three years, calmly treking along with my waggon, oblivious of the scare i should create amongst my friends, so fully convinced were they that the report of my death or murder was correct, that, on presenting myself in the flesh, many of them could not for some time realise they were looking upon a mortal man. information was forwarded to his excellency the governor, that i had turned up from the far interior, in sound health and strength as man could wish to be. the other occasion was when i was in the north kalahara desert, away for nearly three years, over all those northern regions up to the zambese, and in this particular region. natives came down and reported to the missionary at secheles, that the karkabrio bushmen had burnt my waggon, and that myself and people had been speared. again the report was sent on to the government at cape town, and again my second resurrection took place, much to the delight of my friends, who had given up all hope of my ever returning from a country so entirely beyond the limit of the hunter or the traveller. it is true, i have had some very narrow escapes in passing through regions where hostile tribes occupy the country; particularly in damara and ovampoland, and amongst the southern bushmen who once infested the cape colony. fever and the perils of hunting were never thought of. to avoid the former never take unboiled water; weak cold tea, if possible, or weak brandy and water, will in a great measure prevent it, with an occasional dose of quinine. sunstroke can also be avoided by wearing a very high-crowned, broad-brimmed felt hat, with several holes as ventilators, with a light kerchief inside the hat on the head, which cuts off the fierce rays of the sun from the brain. though i have spent so many years under a tropical sun, exposed daily and all day long to its perpendicular rays, i have never once felt the slightest indication of sunstroke, which i attribute to the above precaution. chapter twelve. the kalahara desert. the northern division in the zambese basin. this region being the most extensive, and at the same time occupying the greater portion of the interior of south central africa, claims special attention in connection with the surrounding native tribes, all of whom claim a portion adjoining their respective territories as their exclusive hunting-ground. in exploring an unknown country and meeting so many and such a variety of people whose languages differ, it is not easy on making their first acquaintance to grasp the different sounds that give meaning and expression to their words. i noticed this particularly with respect to the name of this desert region in connection with local names on its borders. in writing down names from native pronunciation i wrote them phonetically, using as few letters as possible. the word kalahara corresponds with namaqualand, damaraland, on the west coast, zahara desert on the north, makarakara salt vlei, makalakara pits, kasaka bushmen of the northern parts, and many others. the boundary of this vast and interesting region comes down south to the orange river degrees south latitude, which is also the northern boundary of the cape colony, and extends north to the degrees south latitude, the extent of my exploration. the western boundary is formed by great namaqua, damara, and ovampolands. on the east it is bounded by the zambese to the victoria falls, then due south, skirts the eastern bank of the great makarakara salt vlei, where five streams enter it from the watershed, viz. the nata, quabela, shuari, mia, and tua; thence the boundary runs south to the makalaka pits, a few miles to the west of ba-mangwato, from these pits due south to molapololo (but that portion of khama's country south of mongwato down to sechele's) to the limpopo may be included, on to kanya and to maceby's station on the molapo down that river to conge, honey vlei, on to the north of langberg range of mountains to cowie, and down that range to the orange river, thirty miles above kheis. the length from north to south, as far as i have explored, is miles; but, from information obtained from the kasaka bushmen on the spot, it may extend much further. the greatest breadth is about miles from east to west, and contains within this area , square miles. the northern and eastern portion is within the zambese basin, except that part drained by the notuane and its tributaries, which is in the limpopo basin, all the rest and central part is in the orange river basin. the great watershed passes through, taking a diagonal course from the south-east corner to the north-west corner in ovampoland. the greatest altitude above sea-level being feet, near the source of the molapo, the lowest along the shed is feet, and in ovampoland feet. the river system of south central africa has already been described in a chapter to itself, so that the configuration of the country should be more clearly understood; but it is necessary to deal with them again to a certain extent in describing the different localities and native tribes within its boundary. lake n'gami is situated nearly in the centre of the desert, to which two of the most important northern rivers, cubango and quito, flow, uniting in one, the tonga, which enters the lake at the north-west corner in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, at an altitude of feet above sea-level. the cubango or okavango river, the source of which is much farther north than my explorations extended, passes through a dense and impenetrable bush, extending on both banks far away in degrees south latitude, where there are several tributaries falling in. following the stream, which is broad and in many places deep, with rapids and waterfalls at different points, passing through forest and open country with native kraals situated on its left banks, occupied by various tribes who are great fishermen and have canoes, and where the hippopotami and crocodile abound, down to where the quito enters it in degrees minutes south latitude, on to debabe, a large native station, where the river turns south, branching off into the chobe and zambese. the other branch takes its course to lake n'gami, and receives the okayanka, which rises in ovampoland and flows east. all to the north of this river the country varies much in character; the eastern portion is low with extensive swamps covered with bush and fine timber, the western portion rises in ridges with lofty plateaux covered with rich tropical plants and trees, including the giant baobab; there are also extensive plains, with dry watercourses crossing them towards the east; many of them have separate names under the general name omuramba. the country to the west of the upper part of the cubango, which is also called the okavango, is rich in timber and fine grasses, and game of every description known in south central africa; this region is known as ombango, through which a road passes to the cubango, and to the north is the land of the ambuelas, where the tsetse-fly is very common; it is inhabited by the kasaka and ombango bushmen. at the bend of the river, at degrees minutes south latitude, the country rises in ridges towards the north considerably, causing many rapids to be formed in the stream. below, the country is more level, until my station is reached, where there is a hill on the right of the river, with many wherfs of bushmen, the altitude being feet above sea-level, and on the opposite side of the river are many wherfs of the ovampo, karakeri, kororo, ojego, and others, each with their separate chiefs; the most important is the ovakuenyami. the river contains many varieties of fish, which the natives are very expert in catching from their canoes by spearing and setting traps, as also the hippopotami and crocodile. the large station of the ovokangari tribe of the ovampo the chief or king mpachi rules; and lower down is the ovalmji tribe, ruled over by queen kapongo, and opposite a dry watercourse falls in; another, omuramba omapu, which passes through ovambanquida country, under an ovampo chief, and where the kuka bushmen live on the bank of the omurambo and sheshongo, and lower down come the ovambanquedos tribe, to the west of the chief of the ovarapo tribe, as also chikonga, who lives on the banks, and above him the ovampo chief tjipangamore. to the east of the ovokangari or ovaquangari are various tribes, the oyomboo and bavickos at libebe, who deal largely in ivory, feathers, skins, and slaves with the portuguese traders. the ovokangari cultivate the soil, grow corn, are good artificers, manufacture arms, picks, utensils of many kinds for their cooking, and ornaments for their women. they work in iron and copper, and sell many articles to the traders who visit them from the portuguese settlement on the west coast, and are a superior race to those around them. north of libebe the amabomdi, bakana, makuka, and the bavickos tribes reach as far north as the high table-land which divides the chobe and the quito rivers; therefore the waters of cubango, quito, and their tributaries have their outlet through the chobe to the zambese and the large swamp which is connected with the mababe and chobe by the tamienkie and other streams. at the junction of the quito and cubango the oshambio tribe of ovampos live on a large island under a chief. down the river is debabe, and on many islands the bakuka, bamalleros, bakaa, have large kraals, and on the north the barico bushmen. the river at debabe is broad and navigable. below that kraal at the bend is the cataract nona and several rapids, and the stream continues down to lake n'gami under the name of tonga, receiving in its course several watercourses, under the names of omaramba, ovampo, okayanka, sheshonga, and others. this extensive region in many parts along the watercourses is thickly populated, and game abounds, cotton is indigenous, and valuable products of various kinds. a great trade could be carried on if a proper system of communication were opened up through walfish bay, lake n'gami, and down the broad and fine river chobe to the english traders at all these places, and a great market found for british merchandise. the natives are well-disposed and quite alive to the advantages of trade; they are a well-made, strong people. i was told at libebe that much further north there were a people of a yellowish-white colour, and also a savage tribe who are nomadic. i believe the former is a remnant of the white race that once occupied the country on the south side of the lower zambese who have left so many of their works behind them, and maybe a portion of this white race followed the river up and became mixed with the native tribes. there are also many scattered tribes living amongst these tribes between the tonga river and ovampoland, the mesere, kaikaibrio, makololo, papero, ohiaongo, majambi, and others. the bakalahara bushmen were once a powerful tribe, who it appears gave the name to this desert. the lion, leopard, panther, and wolves are met with daily. the leopard and panther are more to be feared than the lion when in the thick jungle after game, their form of attack is so cat-like in approaching their prey, taking advantage of every cover until the final spring is made. the many lagoons and swamps seem to be their favourite hunting-ground. in all the waters of these rivers fish abound, of many varieties. crocodiles, hippopotami, iguanas, otters and snakes are plentiful everywhere along the streams. unfortunately this region is very unhealthy. the sickly season lasts from september to may; the other months of the year it is very healthy. the malaria from the standing pools in the hot dry season causes fever, which is very difficult to get rid of. down the tonga the natives build their huts in these island homes for safety; they are circular mud-huts with high thatched roofs; they are similar to those on the upper cubango, and they hunt the hippopotami. on the lower part of the quito i shot one in the head, as he was poking his nose out of the water. the skin we use for several purposes, mostly for sjamboks. large snakes seem to swarm in every part, particularly the python. in a small stream where i thought to be free from crocodiles, i took a daily bath during my stay at my station. on one occasion i was enjoying a swim at the foot of a small fall of beautiful clear water; hearing a great splashing behind me, i turned and saw an enormous snake passing me at great speed, lashing the water into my face, and a few seconds after he was lost in the tall reeds below. expecting one or two more might follow, i was soon standing on the bank; but before i could dress, down came four others, large, and three small ones, and passed into the reeds below. the largest appeared to be twenty feet in length, and very large round the body; their skin was dark brown with dirty yellow marks. i knew them at once to be the python. a few days after i shot one that measured eighteen feet three inches in length, and three feet round the body, and three feet from the tail a large hook was fixed. i had a similar adventure some time before in bechuanaland with one which measured sixteen feet two inches, and inside was a steinbok. at night they make a great noise. every kind of game is found here. elephants may be seen in hundreds; four kinds of rhinoceros: the black boreli, with two horns of equal size; another black with one large and one small horn; a white with two; and another white with one long horn, which is the most rare; their native name is chikooroo. i made a knobkerry out of the horn, which measured two feet eleven inches, from one i shot the previous year. buffaloes, giraffe, blaawbok, elands, gnu, hartebeest, sassaybe, gemsbok, koodoos, pallah, and others; also wild boar which grow to a great size, wild dogs and a host of smaller animals. the ostrich may be seen on the plains in troops of hundreds; but as guns are now becoming more common with the natives, they will soon be thinned out. there are also many beautiful blue cranes, secretary-birds, mayhens, and legions of ducks, geese, and beautiful small birds; monkeys and baboons everywhere, mostly in the fine trees along the river-banks, and they are much hunted by the leopards and panthers. on returning to my camp one evening i had a very narrow escape from one of the former; walking along under the trees on the shore of the cubango, i saw immediately over my head one of these leopards on the branch of the tree that overhung the river, not twenty feet from me. it was the act of a moment; i up with my rifle and fired at his chest, when down he fell a few paces from me; he seemed to be in the act of springing upon me--another second and i should have been too late. this makes the fourth leopard i have shot in this part. on all occasions i had narrow escapes. in a country like this, where in every turn in the thick bush we meet with one or other of these animals, we have to keep a good look-out and make our rifles our constant companions. next week will be christmas--the height of summer. thermometer in the shade, under the trees, degrees; but i do not think the heat so oppressive as it is down in the colony, for the simple reason that we have a dense bush, magnificent trees, and long grass that absorbs the heat of the sun's rays and keeps the earth much cooler by being in shade. in the colony it is open; no trees, scanty grass, and an immense open rocky country, so that the stones become so hot that they destroy the boots. i have frequently made my tea by placing the kettle with water on a stone for half an hour; then put in the tea, let it stand a few minutes, and it is as strong and hot as can be wished. most of the natives have been very quiet, but some of the ovampo have been very troublesome, which has shortened my stay in this part, more particularly amongst the wherfs of the ovokangari. my bakuka and batuana guides were invaluable and took me through without loss. being the rainy season, water was plentiful, but i had great difficulty in crossing many of the watercourses, impeded by thick belts of jungle, although extensive tracts of country are very beautiful and park-like, lovely clumps of trees were so grouped that art could not improve them. travelling for days without meeting with any native, on several occasions i was closely beset by lions, which my guide stated were the man-eating lions. almost daily, thunderstorms came up in the afternoon, many of them terrific in violence; the sunsets also are beyond description for brilliancy of colour. the early morning is generally cloudless; clouds seldom gather before mid-day in summer, but in the winter months they are not visible; this is the healthy season. there are several roads from lake n'gami crossing this desert to damara, ovampo, and on to libebe, and the other villages on the cubango. every day we went out to hunt up the game to supply the people with food, which i omit to describe as it becomes monotonous. very few inhabitants are scattered over this part of the desert, few hills are to be seen, until we arrive at lake n'gami, when the lubalo, makkapola and makabana hills come into view, and it is round the lake that the people under the chief molemo live, and at his kraal and others along the river-banks of the zouga or bot-let-le. the people are composed of betuana, barutsie, makolo, bushmen, and several mixed races; each tribe has a petty chief ruling over them, but all subject to the chief molemo as far as his territory east goes, where the chief khama joins. the principal villages are sebubumpie, mokhokhotlo, mamakahuie, mozelenza, samaai, and numerous others occupied by bushmen. the produce of the northern district is collected by the ovampo traders and brought down to the walfish bay, and by portuguese traders from the portuguese settlement at benguela. the trade of lake n'gami and the zambese region is carried on by english traders from the cape colony, having communication by roads from ba-mangwato, the chief khama's station, and roads from the lake to walfish bay, passing the ghanze chalk-pits, situated on the watershed, where permanent water is obtained. many thousand bushmen live in the more unfrequented parts of the desert, having no settled abode, but remove from water to water as it becomes scarce; there are three separate tribes, the mesere, kasaka, and kaikaibrio, and also some bakalahara. the greater portion of this part of the kalahara within the zambese basin is limestone, covered in places with deep sand, but vegetation is very luxuriant--splendid grasses, and magnificent timber. it is a good corn-growing country, a variety of valuable herbs come to great perfection, every kind of european plants and fruits thrive; water can be obtained by digging,--a splendid country for immigration. the southern and western portion of the kalahara, within the orange river basin, the waters of which fall into the south atlantic ocean. the orange river is the only outlet to the sea to convey the water brought down by the ancient river system that drains the south, the central, and the western divisions of this extensive and important portion of the kalahara desert. the orange for miles forms the southern boundary. the rivers that drain the north-western and the central part of the kalahara are the twin streams nosop and oup, appropriately called twins, as the two join for twenty miles and again separate, both running parallel to each other within a short distance, entering the molapo close to the great bend, where that river takes the name hygap, and flows south, and enters the orange at kakaman's drift. the nosop rises in the waterberg of damaraland in two head-waters called the black and white nosop, which unite north of westly vale and join the oup at narukus. the oup rises in damaraland in latitude degrees, under the name elephant river, and gathering the waters of other small branches, joins the nosop at narukus for twenty miles, then becomes an independent stream and, as i have stated, falls into the molapo. several shallow watercourses traverse the desert, but are not of sufficient importance to merit a description. the other river connected with the above system is the molapo, which rises on the west slope of the central watershed at an altitude of feet, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, where a plentiful supply of pure water flows throughout the year, and takes a westerly course to the great bend in latitude degrees minutes east, longitude degrees minutes, when it takes the name hygap, as already stated, receiving in its course the small streams moretsane and setlakoola. the kuruman river rises in the south of the kuruman mission station, and with its small tributaries flows west and enters the hygap below the great bend. the back river commences in a range of the brinus mountains, a beautiful and picturesque group, several thousand feet in height, of granite formation, well-wooded in the kloofs and ravines. the peculiar feature of the river is that it has two outlets, one to the east into the hygap, the other to the west into the great fish river. south of this river three mountain streams drain the southern kalahara, viz. the nisbet, aamo, and keikab, which fall into the orange to the west of the hygap. the great fish river, which completes the river system of the kalahara in the orange river basin, rises in the awas mountain in damaraland, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, at an altitude of feet, and flows south for miles, and enters the orange river ninety miles from its mouth. the country through which it flows is very dry from the scarcity of rain. there are no important streams in the east, but on the west there are many tributaries that drain the high mountain country. the chun rises in the mitchell mountains, on the border of great namaqualand, receiving the kurick branch, passing through a beautiful and wild country to the south of nababis station. the three small tributaries of the great fish river to the north of the chun in degrees minutes south latitude, are the ganap, near reheboth station; the houra and manabis; south of the chun are the huntop, koros, and the amhup, all receiving their water from the high lands of great namaqualand. the principal stations on these rivers are the amhup, bethany, kachasa, kawais, reems, hudenap, brakhout, and a few others of recent date. the inhabitants are of various tribes, called the namaquas, veld-schoeners, bundelswaarts, hottentots, korannas, kaffirs, gobabies, and bushmen; some of the former cultivate the soil, use ploughs, and keep cattle and sheep; they live near the small fountains and along the river-banks, where they procure water by digging and permanent pits. they live under petty captains. there are several mission stations. copper is found in many parts of the country, and copper-mines are worked in the south near the orange river. the geological formation is granite, gneiss, trap, and amygdaloid. from the magnitude of this river, it is evident the country at one time must have been well supplied with rain, as it is a deep, broad, and stony stream, showing how rapid must have been the flow of water down it. fine timber and bush grow in the kloofs and along the banks; many of the hills are very picturesque, and the country produces fine grasses for cattle. the trade of the country is greatly improving and is supplied by colonial traders from port nolloth on the west coast in little namaqualand, which is in the cape colony; a railway from that port to the copper-mines on the orange river has been for many years at work. in the kalahara desert on the east of the great fish river, and the southern portion up to the hygap river and south of the brinus mountain and back river, are several stations and kraals. nisbet or barth is the most important, where many griquas are settled, also at nabos, luris, akuris, blydver-wagh, aams, oribane, ariam, and others. the griquas cultivate the ground, and keep large herds of cattle and sheep, and trade largely with the cape colony. hottentots, korannas, bushmen, kaffirs, namaquas, and small communities of other tribes live on the banks of the orange and along the streams, with their cattle-posts, which of late years has greatly added to their wealth and enabled the people to trade largely with the colony. the bold outline of the lofty hills with their thickly wooded slopes and kloofs add greatly to the beauty of the landscape, more particularly along the orange river, where the rich vegetation, fine timber and bush, forming deep belts on both sides; the rugged and perpendicular rocks of many colours, which form its banks, clothed with lovely creepers hanging down in festoons with their scarlet pods, make the river scenery very beautiful; and to add to its charm the dense bush swarms with the grey monkey, baboons, and every variety of the cat tribe, even to the lion; pheasants, partridges, guinea-fowl, legions of snipes, ducks, geese, moor-hen, plovers, eagles, vultures, and a variety of hawks, some of them of great size, measuring from tip to tip eight feet; also the heron, crane, and stork, and a variety of others, in addition to the smaller tribes of birds with brilliant plumage. the otter is very plentiful, the banks being covered with their spoor; also the porcupine. there are a great many islands, many of them large and thickly wooded, and about miles up the stream the beautiful and picturesque waterfall, the aukrabies, which has a fall of over ninety feet, is a grand sight when the flood-waters come down in their annual flow, rising above their ordinary level from twenty-five to thirty feet, bringing down large trees that go rolling and crashing as they are carried along by the rushing water. i was outspanned on the north bank of this river in , with two waggons and a cart, for the purpose of making a new tent to one of the waggons that had capsized and rolled over into a sluit a few days previously, and had sent the oxen, forty-eight, on to a neighbouring island to graze early in the morning, when the griqua chief, living at his kraal not far from my camp, came and informed me the river was coming down. the herds were sent over immediately to bring them off, but before they could do so, the river had risen fifteen feet, consequently the oxen had to swim, passing down mid-stream with a small portion of their heads and horns only visible, the two herds swimming behind with blocks of wood under their arms, and they were carried down a mile and a half before they were able to land, and in less than two hours this river had risen thirty feet. there are many beautiful stones and pebbles in the river-bed, agate, soap-stone, petrified gum and wood, which i have found of white, brown, black, and red. diamonds also are found occasionally mixed up in the gravel that has been brought down by heavy floods. on the north of the back river and brinus mountains, the country is more open, extensive grass plains and other portions well-wooded. at liefdotes, tobas, and klopper vlei are large kraals, also at swart and hoali, on the north of the brinus. up along the east side of the great fish river to the oup, the country is very pretty, splendid grasses and timber; the hills are well-wooded, in some places to their summits. game abounds; ostriches i have seen in troops of . two hundred miles north of the orange river and fifty miles west of the hygap, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, is hogskin, a large vlei, thirty-three miles in length, and in some parts three miles in width; the greater portion is dry for nine months of the year. the road crosses it to the griqua settlement at meer, which is twenty miles to the north, where there are extensive vleis, feet above sea-level. three rivers flow into the hogskin vlei, viz. the snake, the moi, and the knaas. after heavy rains the vlei is full, and forms a fine sheet of water, which it retains for some months; wild-fowl and game frequent it at that time. these rivers rise in a hilly country; the knaas is the largest, and retains water in portions of its bed through the year. quassam, a large bushman kraal, is situated on its banks; these bushmen are distinct from the bushmen of the desert; they were, many years ago, driven from the cape colony, by sir walter currie, on account of their stealing the cattle, and robbing travellers. they first took refuge in the many islands in the orange river, but were driven out and went north, where they settled at quassam, and where i nearly lost all my waggons, oxen, and everything, being kept there for two days, and the oxen without grass. coche africanda was their captain, and i escaped only by threatening that if he or any of his men moved to detain me whilst i inspanned, i would shoot him dead, holding my rifle ready for action. there were nearly well armed with guns; seeing my determination, they remained passive, and i left. eight miles below this kraal is a very pretty spot, a valley surrounded by sand-hills, with limestone between and a spring of water, where several roads meet going to damara and ovampo, lake n'gami, namaqualand, and the colony. the valley is about a mile in length, and half a mile in breadth, studded with very fine kameel-doorn trees. the sand in these rivers contains very fine particles of copper, and also garnet dust. on the south side of hogskin vlei are two conical hills, which are very prominent objects, visible sixty miles off, and as they stand alone, surrounded by bush and the vleis, they add greatly to the beauty of the landscape. the highest is feet from the base, the other measures feet; they are called base kopts. a few miles south-west of them i procured several specimens of coal, which cropped out in a large sluit, and also from the side of a hill, and twenty miles beyond. slate and shale form the beds of the rivers suake and moi. near knaas river the formation in the valley is a conglomerate of limestone, greenstone, and garnets. this part of the desert is full of bush, kameel-doorns, mimosa, and other trees, and is diversified by long low ridges of sandstone, limestone, and many low hills of granite. during the rainy season vegetation is splendid, and the grass fine and beautiful, consequently game is abundant; it follows as a natural consequence that lions, leopards, and many other species of feline animals are numerous. this is truly the lion veldt; i have counted at one time in a troop, great and small, twenty-two, frequently six and seven in the middle of the day, and within a short distance from my waggons. the ostrich is becoming more scarce every day; when i first visited this country, in , the bushman would exchange a beautiful blood or prime white feather for a piece of tobacco worth sixpence, and less; now they are difficult to be found. this desert has been considered a barren and uninteresting region, but it is not so. there are portions, it is true, that cannot be traversed during the dry season, several who have attempted to penetrate it having been obliged to come out and leave their waggons, their oxen all lost for want of water. but this was in a great measure their own fault, for if they had followed up the rivers and dug in their beds they would have obtained it. there are many miles of limestone flats, some extending ten miles in length, bounded by extensive sand-dunes, and isolated koppies, with their pointed summits covered with bush. these sand-dunes cover an immense area, extending from east to west fifty miles, and thirty miles over, and in altitude from fifty to feet. their base is a dark limestone covered with sand, which varies in thickness from four to ten feet. their sides are at an angle of about degrees, and the topmost ridges so pointed that when a waggon and span of eighteen oxen arrive towards their tops, the whole span is descending on the other side as the waggon reaches the summit, and the driver on the box can only see the four after oxen; but from the great depth of sand in the road the waggon glides down with ease. to illustrate more clearly the shape of these dunes i can only compare them to a very stormy sea, with gigantic waves instantly turned into sand; many small trees and bushes grow on their slopes, and also beautiful grasses. from six to eight miles a day with an ox-waggon is considered a good trek. there are some small fountains and vleis in some of the hollows, otherwise no one could pass that way, as the road over these dunes from first entering them is thirty miles, then a flat of eight miles over limestone and sand-dunes again. there are also many isolated conical granite hills, that rise from the level plains to an altitude of feet, formed of huge blocks; they more resemble artificial than natural monuments; many of them are so overgrown with trees and bush that grow between the blocks that scarcely any of the rock is to be seen. it is dangerous to inspect them too closely, as they are the lurking-places of lions, leopards, and other beasts of prey. i discovered this on ascending one of them at kanardas: when nearly half-way up, on looking into one of the small caverns, of which there are many, i saw at the end two large bright eyes glaring at me from the dark. after exchanging a good stare at each other i quietly took my departure down: knowing the nature of these animals, that they will not openly follow or attack, if not disturbed, i felt pretty safe. as to the nature of the beast i cannot say, but from the great size of the bright red eyes i concluded he was a lion,--at any rate, their expression did not appear very amiable. a few lessons like this make an explorer cautious before prying too closely into hidden and secluded spots in a wild country like this desert. on the east of hogskin vlei is a large salt-pan or vlei, twelve miles in length from north to south and two broad. it is worked only by the griquas living at meer. this settlement was established in . i was told by an old bushman, that they took the bush children and made them work, and would not give them back. in meer had become quite a tidy village, of about twenty-five houses, some of them built of red brick. the chief was dirk falander, who held a magistrate's court and tried prisoners; it is a little republic upon a small scale, not more than all told, except the bushmen slaves. there are close to the village two large ponds or pans; the banks on their sides are seventy feet in height. the country round is open grass veldt. between meer and hogskin vlei is a large pan, surrounded by high sand-rocks, called klein meer, a very pretty and picturesque lake, two miles in length, with fine bushes and grass lining the banks; five months of the year it is dry. sand-dunes are round it in every direction. there is a considerable traffic and trade carried on by the griquas and the cape colony. roads cross the orange river at koran drift, kakaman's drift, and orleans drift; the two latter meet at kanardus, close to extensive lime-pits, where water is obtained, by the side of a dry river-bed, where there are some of the prettiest trees i have seen in africa, spread over the veldt, park-like, and dense bush between lofty granite hills, which in consequence of water is the general outspanning place. i came here one evening after dark and nearly lost many of my trek oxen, in their eagerness to get at the water, which is twenty feet from the surface. they were supplied by sending my boys down with buckets, by that means filling a hole dug out for the oxen to drink. these pits are fifty miles north of kakaman's drift, and twenty-five miles on is swaat modder, in the bed of the hygap river, the road passing along its bed between sand-cliffs feet in height. between these two watering-places the back river enters the hygap; the sand in its bed is mostly composed of ruby sand, which i believe would make a fine red glass. at swaat modder the right side of the river has cliffs feet in height; the left bank has sand-dunes, where i found several flint borers, many of them in a finished state, for making holes in the shell of the ostrich egg to form beads. under these cliffs, in an old bushman cave, i built a stone house, where we remained six weeks waiting for the rains. all this country is under the koranna chief puffadder, and his people are spread over the country in small kraals. the road still continues north, past other pits in limestone at bloomfontein, and at kebeum, springbok, etc.; abequas pits, a large koranna kraal; then passes over sand-dunes for thirty miles, and arrives at anoerogas, where there is another kaffir station, also a store kept by a mr. redman, of whom i bought some tobacco for five bags of gunpowder, and a medicine-chest, and a variety of goods i was much in want of. a captain of the bundelswaarts is here, to give notice to the bastards to clear out. coal abounds in this part, garnets are found in all the river-beds, and in many parts mixed up in the sand of the desert. lions are so plentiful here that it is dangerous to leave the waggon without your rifle. a koranna man was killed and eaten last night, a short distance from the waggon. this station is miles north from kakaman's drift, on the orange river, and three miles south of hogskin vlei; here the roads divide. one goes to the salt-pan, another to meer station, a third to quassam on to damaraland, a fourth past knaas, in a north-north-west direction to ovampoland, and a fifth turns south-west, and leads to barth, where the bundelswaarts people live, besides others to different parts of the desert. the other portion of the kalahara takes in the southern part from the orange river to the molapo river, miles to the north, and from the hygap river to the langberg range of mountains, which is the eastern boundary of the desert, miles in width. the lower portion, near the orange river, is better adapted for farming, as there is good grass, and the karroo bush, upon which sheep and bucks get fat. i purchased of klass lucas, the chief, living at his large kraal on the banks of the orange, near orleans drift, a large africander sheep, for lbs. of gunpowder. it weighed, without the tail, lbs., and the tail produced lbs. of pure fat. between this station and sixty miles to the north, called blue busk kalk, there is a fine fountain and large vlei, with a stone kopje on the north side, where the rocks stand out in grotesque forms of granite formation; there are in the intermediate distance several very peculiar granite koptjies; they average about feet in height and feet in circumference at the base, large masses of huge rocks, piled one upon another, and without any vegetation; the country round is perfectly level; they have the appearance of ruined pyramids; the highest i measured was feet. the mountain, called scheurberg, is another peculiar range, with its many pointed peaks, with wood in the valleys and kloof; fifty miles in length and twelve in width, a road passing through the centre, a great resort of lions, wolves, and other beasts of prey. the continuation of the orange river up from the junction of the hygap is particularly picturesque, and in many places fearfully bold and rugged, with lofty and almost perpendicular cliffs, with fine timber, beautiful bushes, tree-ferns, and other subtropical plants, which add much to the landscape. it was at the point of the langberg, close to the river, where the berg seems split up into several magnificent hills, between which and the river is almost a level but thickly wooded space of several hundred yards in width, where we came to outspan, for the purpose of making a new tent to my waggon. my driver happened to capsize it into a sluit two days before, and, to complete my misfortune, i lost four of my best trek oxen in the river by sinking in the mud. the next day one died of the melt sickness, and i had to shoot another from lung-sickness. the willow trees along the bank gave us plenty of wood, and in two days the tent was completed. mr. staple, who was with me, suggested we should make a boat of wicker-work, after our welsh coracles, which we soon completed, by small branches being bent the proper shape, with cross-pieces, each tied very carefully together, forming a strong and firm framework, over which we stretched two raw bullock-hides, well sewn together, and when dry painted it red,--two seats, two paddles, a mast, and lug-sail; the length was seven feet, and twenty inches deep, in shape like half an egg cut through lengthways. this little work occupied us a week. when perfectly dry we took it down to the river to launch it, not thinking of its lightness. as soon as it was floated i brought it close to the rock, and put one foot into the boat, and then made a spring in, when i was no sooner in than i was out on the other side into the water, a regular header--fortunately it was deep water. however, on landing, i took off my clothes to dry on the rocks, and staples got some koranna girls who were sitting on the bank watching our work, to bring some stones to put in as ballast, which took some time, as few were to be found. i was better prepared for the second trial, being without clothes, but this time our boat was perfectly steady, and no wonder, for we had at least lbs. of stones in the bottom as ballast. a fine breeze was blowing up-river, which was nearly a mile wide: fixing our little mast and lug, we started on our first voyage, steering by a paddle. this being the first boat that ever floated on the orange river, i consider it worthy of recording. our little craft acted splendidly. the astonishment of the bushmen, korannas, and the blood kaffirs living on the bank, who came down to see the white man's floating-house, was amusing; they shouted with delight as we sailed away up-stream; the women in particular were the loudest in their admiration. after spending some hours sailing up and down, exploring on the islands, shooting ducks and geese, we returned to our handing and carried our boat to camp, after taking out the ballast. as we were in a lovely spot, well sheltered by trees, and only a short distance from several small kraals, where we could obtain milk, we determined to remain some time to explore the neighbourhood, shoot and fish, and enjoy this wild, independent, and delightful free and easy life. there were several families of blood kaffirs who had permanently established themselves on the banks of this river. they originally came from the cape colony; the men were perfectly naked, and the women also, with the exception of a piece of skin round the loins, which was of very little service as a covering; the korannas and bushmen the same. in the evening we had two fires, one for us and one for our boys, having two waggons, a cart, and many oxen and sheep to look after. we had eight servants, composed of hottentots, korannas, bushmen, and a cape half-caste; consequently, when we were all assembled round the fires, with the addition of our neighbours, who never failed to visit us at feeding-time to come in for snacks, we formed a large gathering of as romantic and unique a party as could well be collected at any picnic. the ladies present were of all colours, from yellow to black; many of them well-formed and good-looking, others were of every type of ugliness. the kaffirs were models of symmetry, and a much superior class to the others. having an unlimited supply of wood, our fires lighted up the trees, bush, and many of the near rocks, leaving the lofty mountains in shadow, looking black and grim against the sky,--a grand picture for a turner. i made an attempt to portray it on canvas, but my humble efforts could not do justice to this beautiful and wild scene. so enjoyable was this mode of life, what with sketching, exploring, fishing, and shooting, besides the daily sail on the river, visiting the islands, and the opposite shore, geologising and reading under the overhanging trees as the boat floated quietly with the gentle current, i determined to waste three or four months on its banks, as i was following the river down for miles, which would occupy that time to thoroughly enjoy it, and give me ample opportunity of indulging in this wild and free life. the boat was fastened on to the back of my waggon, when treking down by the river. when outspanned, it was taken down to the water, sometimes crossing over to the colony side to visit the blood kaffirs, to obtain milk and purchase the large africander sheep. the people would come down to see where we came from, and when they saw the boat and us getting into it and paddling away with our two sheep, their shouts of astonishment were amusing. when travelling, it was always in the morning for a couple of hours; that was our day's work, the rest being employed in various ways as described. at one outspan, close to a small koranna village, we as usual took the boat down to the river that we might, in mid-stream, enjoy our daily swim, and crossed over to some kaffirs. they were entirely naked, nothing whatever to cover them; the women brought us some thick milk. they had heard that some white men were coming down, and told us that the korannas intended to stop us, and not allow us to proceed. on returning to the waggons, we found several of those people sitting round our fires, evidently come to overhaul us, but they were very civil; they had been getting out what information they could from our boys. forewarned is being forearmed; we looked up our rifles and ammunition, to be ready for any surprise, as we intended to fight our way down stream if opposed. but there was no sign of opposition on their part. they were much amused at a sketch i had been making of them as they were sitting round the fire in their half-naked state. they each wanted me to take them individually. many i did, for practice, and to embellish my journal, for we do not meet with such picturesque groups every day. i therefore made the best use of my opportunity. both sexes are great swimmers, and would follow me some distance. as i sailed from the shore, i took one or two out occasionally in the boat to help me in fishing and other work, when my own people were out hunting up game to keep my larder full. so that, from being shy at first, they became almost too friendly, which, under existing circumstances, i permitted. their primitive mode of living is very simple. they marry at twelve years of age, if living together as long as it suits them is called marriage. no divorce courts are needed in these parts. our next trek was to avoid the high mountains which terminated on the river-bank in enormous cliffs. we therefore had to go round through the gorges and over steep and stony hills--no roads in this wild country-- and outspanned for the night close to a mountain stream surrounded by lofty hills, covered with bush. as night advanced, the different wild animals began to move about; the red cat, a kind of panther, the wolf-jackals, and porcupine were very plentiful. at night when the camp-fires have burnt nearly out, and all the boys are rolled up in their blankets fast asleep, every sound is distinctly heard. the mountains contained many leopards, and they are very dangerous, and will not hesitate to attack if you are alone. these hills were the home of the wild bushmen, who war on all living things. they differ from other bushmen; they are of a reddish-black colour, and stand four feet four inches in height. they live in the caves amongst most inaccessible parts of these mountains. they use the bow and arrow. few are now left, as far as we know, for they never show themselves, and keep as much away from mankind as the beast of the forest. travelling on through mountain passes, we arrived at a native station where the chief, klas lucas, lived, who claimed all the country north, to the kuruman river, which is a wild district, having several isolated hills, and being scarce of water, particularly towards the kuruman and molapo rivers. large pans are distributed over this waste, but water is seldom found in them, except in the rainy season, from january to may. large herds of game, and also the ostrich, are occasionally to be seen, but are difficult to approach, as they are constantly being hunted by the korannas, bushmen, and griquas, living at the kraals near the hygap and orange rivers, and along the mountains of scheurberg. limestone and granite are the only rocks to be found over this extensive region. the kalahara, to the north of the molapo, up to a short distance of lake n'gami, the langberg range of mountains continues northwards in broken and detached hills through a wild country, unfrequented, except by native hunters, who visit it from the bechuana side on the east, and those living in the desert and the bastards at meer. the ostrich is less hunted here, and consequently more plentiful. lions seem to have it all their own way, for they are more numerous here than in any part i have seen; not only at night, but in broad day, they make an attack on your oxen. one full-grown male lion seized one of my black oxen, not yards from the waggon, in some low bush at mid-day. our attention was called to the bellowing of the ox and the rush of the others towards us. the lion was on the ox, having seized him by the back of the neck; one hind-foot of the lion had torn open the flank, and the other across the back, when the ox dropped. in a few minutes i was at his side with my double-barrel rifle, and sent two bullets into his heart, when he rolled on the ground quite dead. the ox had to be shot also, for his bowels were protruding from his side; he was one of my best oxen. we saw several others a short distance off, but they disappeared after a few shots were fired at them. as we treked over the veldt, we came upon several remains of game on the ground, which the lions had killed and eaten. there are many beautiful plants and flowers in these parts. we were frequently crossed by border tribes who go in to hunt, but they do not remain. they may be seen occasionally in small parties traversing the desert, with one or two pack-oxen loaded with dried game and such feathers as they may have obtained by the rifle or stolen from the bushmen they may have surprised. if they catch a bushman, they conclude he has feathers,--if not with him, he has them hid in the sand. they take from him what he has, and then, to make him give up what they believe he has concealed, they torture the poor wretch by putting a finger or a toe in the fire until the pain is so groat he tells where he has hidden them. if he has none, they believe he is telling them false, and go to such extremes, that they will burn the hand or foot until they are consumed, believing the victim is obstinate and will not tell where they are. i have a bushman i engaged to look after the waggon with one foot entirely burnt off, and a bush boy with four fingers of the right hand served in the same way. the man came to me and asked to be employed, and said he would show me the waters. he brought his two daughters with him; their mother was dead. the girls' ages, as well as i could guess, were fourteen and sixteen. i employed them on various duties about the waggons, and found them very willing to learn. i had now a large family to provide for; my own eight boys and seventeen bushmen, including six women and girls, which was a great help, as they took me to watering-places unknown to hunters, and were my guides to places i should not otherwise have visited. i found if you treat these people well, they are willing to assist in any way. they are a very small race, seldom exceeding four feet ten inches in height. when old, which is at the age of forty, they are very ugly. their food consists of game, which they kill with their bows and arrows, eggs, roots, mice, locusts, insects, frogs, land-turtle, and anything they may pick up. when i was in the desert in , i had one of the chief bushmen captains engaged with many of his people to hunt for me. hearing of the atrocities committed on these bushmen by the border tribes, i told him to collect a few of the injured ones, and bring them to my waggon, that i might see them. in a week he collected fourteen, all, more or less, having lost a hand or fingers, a foot or a greater part of it. one bushman had a red-hot iron ramrod forced through his body under the arm-pit and it came out on the other side. i saw the skeleton a few days after it occurred. some are shot down, and the children stolen and taken for slaves. they are also tied to stakes and burnt to death, and i was taken to the places where these crimes had been committed, and saw the remains and the site of the fire. having satisfied myself as to the correctness of all these statements from personal inspection and from more than fifty bushmen who told me of others equally horrible, all of which i noted in my journal, i was frequently importuned by these people to become their chief, which i declined. i was then asked to write to the great mother (the queen) to solicit her majesty's protection, and take them over as her children. this, i saw, was impracticable. i then told the chief head-men to call all the bushman families together near at hand, at a drift where i had had the bad luck to get my waggon capsized, and where there was plenty of water, and to meet me there at the full moon a fortnight hence. true to the appointment, seventy-seven of the head-men and their families were there, forming a large camp, and as quiet and orderly as any assemblage of people could be. i took down the probable number there would be within a radius of seventy miles, from klasson, the chief spokesman, which numbered . they stated, if the great mother could not be written to, would i write to the great chief at the cape? this i agreed to, and told them i would write out a petition which they would sign, and i would forward it with a letter explaining the circumstances under which it was sent to his excellency sir henry barkly, detailing the atrocities, and praying to be taken under english protection, which was in due course forwarded, and some months afterwards i received a reply from his excellency, stating "he had received the petition and my letter, but as the kalahara desert was so far removed from the cape colony, he could not see how it could be done at present, but at some future time it might be considered." and from that time these peacefully-disposed people have been left to the tender mercy of the border tribes. his excellency, it appears, did not know that the kalahara desert joined the northern border of the cape colony, which shows how little interest was taken to ascertain the true position of the country from which the petition was forwarded. the country to the west of this region up to damaraland, miles, up to the mountain regions of that country and great namaqualand, is undulating, with vast stretches of wood and open plains; isolated hills of granite and limestone in other portions. one extensive district was covered with water-worn pebbles, garnets, agates, and other beautiful stones, also large broken pieces of stone of a rich crimson colour. when broken small cubes of iron pyrites like gold are embedded. the grain is very fine, and it would make splendid vases, cups, plates, or any other ornaments. i had been foolish enough to collect specimens of every kind of stone, until my waggon became so full and heavy that i had to throw them away. i made a collection of agates of every variety of colour and shape, which had to be abandoned. many cairns or graves are seen with heavy stones surrounding them. not far from them are several ancient stone huts, built upon a small hill, that must have belonged to a former race, and close to a dried-up river. some of the stones are six feet in length, two feet wide, and one and a half thick. they were placed on end and covered in. none of them would hold more than four persons. they are in small clusters of seven and eight together, and some less. they were covered in with large stones, that have long since fallen. no account can be obtained of them from the bushmen. their huts are a few sticks stuck up with grass thrown over. several fresh bushmen and women came to my camp this morning. some of the young girls were very good-looking, and with a profusion of native ornaments upon them made entirely of ostrich eggs. a perfect set comprised a tiara, three inches in width, for the head; a broad necklace, six bracelets on each arm, and eight anklets or bangles to each leg, and finally, a rope of beads of sufficient length to go round the loins twice and fastened in front with a piece of rimpey. these constituted the entire dress of one of the girls. she looked like a young african queen, and it had the effect of making her look half pretty. i bought two sets for six yards of print each. i think there cannot be less than beads in each set, between each bead a piece of leather of the same size, which becomes black, so that they look like black and white beads, which has a good effect upon their black skin. they were delighted with the exchange. when disrobed of their ornaments, they threw the print over their shoulders like a mantle. the ornament had the appearance of having been handed down from generation to generation. at narukus, on the nosop river, i came upon a family of bushmen, ten in number, of a different type to those i had in my service, evidently a lower caste. they have no forehead; the wool on their heads comes close down to the eyes, and the head falling back like a baboon; projecting mouth, small nose, a sort of hair or wool all over the chest, arms, and legs; their eyes are small and restless, watching every movement that is going on; the tallest man did not exceed four feet four; their skin was of a reddish-brown. a few old skins, broken ostrich eggs, and bows and arrows, seemed all they possessed of worldly goods. they would have decamped and hid in the bush, but i sent some of my bushmen and brought them back. i asked my own boys, if they were their brothers, meaning of the same race; they repudiated the idea, and said they were monkeys not men, and told me there were very few ever seen, it was very seldom they ever came upon any; they eat carrion. they are evidently a distinct race from the masara bushmen who are largely distributed over the desert. one of the women had a baby not much bigger than a half-grown kitten; all of them were destitute of clothing. the country through which the oup and nosop pass, in many places is very pretty and picturesque. at a fountain on the branch of the oup, i remained several days to hunt, to supply so many people with food. _ th february_, . a terrific thunderstorm broke over us soon after midnight, and continued until six this morning, striking and splitting up some large trees a short distance from our camp, and it rent into three a large rock which stood out alone from the base of the hill. the country was swamped with water, the oxen at one time standing half knee-deep in it. my escort of bushmen and their families for once in their lives had a good shower-bath. the baboons also in the hills must have felt its effects, for they could be heard far and near, with their half-human grunts. my bushman with the stump foot told me he could understand the baboon language, when, they are frightened or hungry, or are to meet together to defend themselves against an enemy, or to meet to play, and he knew well what they said and could talk to them. the old ones beat the young baboons with sticks if they do anything wrong, such as stealing the food from others. the bushman's language has a great many grunts in it similar to these animals. i find there are four types of bushmen in this desert; the lowest is the one already described with no forehead and half wool and hair on their bodies and legs. the second is the wild bushmen, who live in the mountains near the orange river, also mentioned, who war on all men, but they are of good form, without hair. the third is the masara bush family, also of good proportions and of gentle dispositions, inoffensive and harmless, ready to help or do anything, and they make good servants. it was this tribe i had with me in my wanderings. the two girls i took in charge made good cooks, washed the clothes, and mended them. the fourth is much taller and well-formed, great rascals, who cannot be trusted with anything; they inhabit the eastern portion of the desert, and down by langberg. a similar tribe were those sir walter currie drove out of the colony, some of whom i fell in with at quassam under coche africanda. the bushmen of the northern kalahara are much the same as the masara, every one of them quite distinct from the drakensberg bushmen, whose form and colour differ entirely from the others, which i believe to be a distinct race, and which i described in the first chapter. one amusing circumstance i omitted to mention in connection with one of these wild bushman boys, when at swaart-modder in the hygap river, where we had built a stone house under the cliff to keep our goods during our stay there. a young bush boy came in the evening to the camp and made himself comfortable by the fire. after some time my boys asked him where he came from, but he would give no reply. at last they got from him that he had run away from his people, because his mother had burnt his fingers for stealing, and he came to get something to eat. this was his second visit, and as he had been well fed before, he came again, but managed at the same time to steal some of my boys' food. on this evening, we had a young man from the colony to drive the cart and look after the boys, and as our stone house was infested with large mice, this young hancock was catching them in an iron pot, and throwing them out amongst the boys for amusement. as one by one, up to seven, were thrown, this bush boy picked them up, put them into the red-hot ashes to cook, and, when half-done, ate them as they were. thinking he must be awfully hungry, i told my cook to put on a pot and cook some boer meal, which is wheat ground but unsifted; two pints of this were cooked in water, and when ready it was set before him and soon disposed of. after all the people were asleep, he stole the food they had left, and in the middle of the night, sucked three of my goats dry. the following morning he was not to be found, and for nearly a month we did not see him again; when we had travelled miles north, and were outspanned, he presented himself again, as if it were his first visit. we found out he had lived in the bush, existing on a wild water-melon, called shama or kongive, and had kept us in sight as we travelled. i tried to tame him, but it was of no use; his age was about eleven years. he kept with us off and on for three months, then disappeared altogether; the lions would not let him remain long, without making a meal of him. we were now travelling through a very pretty part of the desert, open glades and timber trees, lofty pyramidal hills, partly covered with bush, fine grass, with white feathery tops, no inhabitants; a wild and picturesque region, crossing open plains, then gentle rises with low bush; in the distance, mountains with their lofty peaks fading away into nothing. the perfect calm and silence that pervades everything around, the variety of game quietly grazing in all directions, the very loneliness of my position, being many hundred miles from any white man, surrounded only by my own bushmen, and those who accompany me, living in all their natural innocence as their forefathers lived in prehistoric ages, add immensely to the pleasure one feels in viewing a scene so novel and so seldom to be enjoyed. the country as we approach damaraland becomes more wild and broken, lofty mountains come into view as we advance westward. we were nightly visited by lions and wolves, which kept us constantly on the watch, and our fires kept lighted. it is an anxious time, particularly when in the stillness of the night we hear their roar at no great distance, in answer to others far away. the roar of a lion in the still evening can be heard miles away. one morning about eleven o'clock, as we were outspanned in an open plain about yards from a small pool of water, our oxen, horse, and a few goats grazing on the opposite side of the waggons, several of my boys asleep, the bushmen and the women cooking some flesh in the hot embers, we saw seven lions leisurely walking up to the water. after drinking, they went to a small rise, bare of grass and sandy, and commenced playing, some lying down, others jumping over them, growling in their deep bass voice, acting the same as cats at play. this lasted twenty minutes, when they as leisurely walked away, taking no notice of us whatever. if i had fired and wounded any, they might have come at us, which would have been dangerous to our oxen, by dispersing. when an ox or a horse smells a lion, they will bolt away anywhere, and some might have been lost, therefore we left them alone and enjoyed so unusual a sight, watching the movements of these beautiful but dangerous kings of the forest, in their wild and natural state in the wilds of africa. the kalahara, that portion, on the borders of damara and ovampolands for miles, becomes much more densely wooded and hilly. some of the mountains attain a height of feet, in which lead, copper, iron, and coal, also limestone, both white and dark grey, crop up everywhere. granite forms the hills. the black and white nosop and the elephant river, and their several branches, drain all this region. the country is very dry, rain seldom falls, and when it does, it comes down with a rush, which soon passes away; but the vegetation is excellent, fine timber and thick bush predominate over this vast but little inhabited country. the road from walfish bay on the west coast passes through, in an easterly direction, to lake n'gami, zambese, ba-mangwato, and other territories on the east. the road is difficult to travel for want of water, but when the country is more opened up, means will be found for procuring it by well-sinking and pumps, to make it as easy to travel as any part of africa. there are several permanent watering-places now along this route. in the dry season it is three and four days' trek between them, but as it is limestone nearly all the way, water can be procured by digging wells. the country is subject to drought, more particularly in the southern portion of the desert, consequently there is more game to be found in the northern region. elephants are seen in troops of two or three hundred, also the zebra, and the various antelopes, giraffes, rhinoceros, wild boar, and others. the country is very favourable for rearing cattle; large numbers of horses are yearly taken through the desert from the orange river free state to damaraland, and exchanged for damara oxen, which are found to make the best trek oxen, having small hoofs and being nimble on their feet; they are compact and strong. another advantage is that they are bred on sour grass; when they arrive in the colony, it is sweet, which improves their condition. _april th_.--at hoab, a lovely, calm morning, after a heavy rain last night, at a vlei; there are several large ones in this open grass country that contain water at this time of year, being the rainy season. this station is on the desert-track from the lake to ovampoland. outspanned under a large tree; boys employed skinning a koodoo, killed early this morning by one of my bushmen guides with his poisoned arrow. the arrow-head is of bone, very small, the shaft two feet in length, and the bow two feet six inches. the shaft, close to the head for four inches, is covered over with their poison, which, in penetrating the flesh, paralyses the animal; the flesh killed in this manner is very good, and has no bad effect on those who partake of it. several bush people have come to our camp begging for food; they look poor and miserable, their only covering being a few pieces of ragged skins thrown over their shoulders. several of the grown-up boys and girls had not even that to cover them. they are complete wanderers in the desert; no home or fixed abode, but live on roots, berries, insects, and anything they may by chance shoot: i gave them some flesh, and a fire to cook it. the hot winds, which are very oppressive, come in waves, and are very enervating, more particularly in the dry season, when they dry up everything. the wood-work of the waggons shrinks to such an extent, that the wheels are kept together by ropes of raw hide bound round them; and your own system becomes so dried-up, that the natural functions of your body partly cease to act; to remedy this, fat is absolutely necessary, and nature craves after it. you will see the desire after fat in the native tribes, not only to grease their skin, to protect it from the sun, but to use as medicine. when treking, some days afterwards, we were overtaken by one of those gigantic whirlwinds so common in all tropical countries. we were entirely enveloped in it; everything that is loose in the way of clothes is carried up hundreds of yards. one of my boys had his hat taken by the current, and it fell nearly a quarter of a mile from where he lost it. many of these whirlwinds may be seen at one time passing over the desert. at this outspan, late in the afternoon, sitting on my camp-stool where my boys were skinning a buffalo i had shot, i saw in the distance a bushman coming. when near enough to distinguish, i saw it was a bush girl, tall and well-made, and for a wonder quite fat; she was marked over every part of her body--face, legs, and arms--with white stripes, like the stripes of the zebra, and had nothing else on. she came up, holding out an old piece of leopard-skin. my bushman spoke to her, but could get no answer. i gave her some tobacco, when, dropping the skin, she walked to the fire and sat down. we gave her a piece of cooked meat, thinking she might be hungry, which she took, and after remaining some ten minutes, got up and walked away in the same direction she came; but no word could we get from her. she was even strange to my bushman. it was a strange visit, and a strange mode of decorating herself. the only other occasion on which i fell in with bushmen so marked was more to the cast, nearly miles, when nearly a dozen came to my waggon, to tell me i had that day ridden over a grave where a few days before they had buried one of their people. the stripes may have something to do with death, but the bushmen i have spoken to know nothing of such custom. one of the vleis, which was full of water, appeared to be full of frogs, from the noise they made at night; going down, next morning, i found several small ones, having a peculiar appearance. catching one, which was very narrow in its body compared to its length, and having a short tail, i concluded at once from its general shape that it was half-lizard and half-frog. it had all the action of the frog in its long leaps, without any attempt at running; all the others were of the same form, and with tails. i brought it to the waggon to take its measure, viz. from front of head to commencement of tail one and a half inch, length of tail three-quarters of an inch, beautifully marked with green and light-yellow spots. not having any means of preserving it, i took it back to the vlei, where there were hundreds sitting on the bank; as i neared them they jumped into the water and disappeared. the bushman brought in to-day several ostrich eggs, quite fresh from the nest, which we had cooked in our large iron pots, mixed with a little flour--a kind of omelet; one is sufficient for three persons. the bushman took me to a nest that the old birds had been sitting on for some time; there were eighteen in the centre, and fourteen on the outside, formed into a circle round them, which are kept for food for the young birds, which lasts them a few days when hatched; the hen bird then takes and teaches the chicks to eat grass. _thursday, th_.--our camp was visited by a party of traders and korannas on their way from meer down south--the chief puffadder, old mr. ryland, from kopie's farm and low blaat, four waggons, and a lot of cattle, horses, and sheep. they remained the afternoon and night, and started early the next day for kebeum. they told me a trader on the border of great namaqualand, going down to walfish bay, had been shot, and his waggon and everything seized by the gobabis hottentots for plunder, and that the country was in a fearful state of tribal wars. i told them of my little affair with the bushman hottentot at quassam; they said i was most fortunate to escape as i did, particularly with all my belongings, as they are noted as a nest of thieves, and have robbed traders of everything. i left them for abequis pita, which are in limestone; it is a koranna station, under the chief puffadder. the country is open and flat; the grass in many places was up to my chin with white feathery flowers; at a distance it looks like snow. the road is very good for waggon travelling, and around springbok fountain the scenery is very pretty. at abequis pits the korannas have many huts, and seem to be doing well; they have flocks of goats, and a few africander sheep. they brought me some very good feathers, which i took in exchange for powder and caps; many of them have the old flint gun, which would be a curiosity now in england. the winters here are warm; it is now mid-winter, thermometer in the shade degrees. the men wear old leather trousers, which constitute their dress, the women an old blanket thrown over the left shoulder, and brought round and held in front by the hand. overmodesty is not a failing with them. they were very civil, supplied my people with goats' milk, and i gave them what they much needed, tobacco, as the women are great smokers. dozens of them will sit or be lying round my fire, having only two or three bone pipes between them, each taking a few puffs and passing it on to the next, until all have had a turn; then they begin again, the old ones keeping a pipe to themselves. my maids, topsey and nina, the daughters of my piet, knew these people, therefore i got on very well, piet also lived once with them. the country towards the south and west was a level plain as far as the eye could see. the next morning after the second day, started to the northwards; we passed a large vlei on the left, six miles from the koranna station, which is the commencement of the sand-dunes. the dunes are small until sixteen miles of country are passed, then they assume great proportions. a mile to the left is another vlei, where we filled our water-casks and gave the oxen water, and remained the night, to have a clear day to pass over them. there were three griquas' waggons outspanned, each waggon was full of women and children, each jack had his jill, and each a baby, plenty of little naked children of both sexes. they told me they were on the trek to the orange river. these people are always quiet and civil, they exchanged a fat sheep for some tobacco. all the country, including the sand-dunes, is limestone with sand above, and full of low bush, many large and small land-shells are mixed up in the sand. _july th_.--the griquas left early in the morning, and we started to cross the sand-dunes. a fearful road, their sides are about at an angle of thirty, and every time we ascend one, we have to put two spans of twenty-eight oxen in, to pull one waggon up at a time, which causes much delay shifting them backwards and forwards, as each dune rises from to feet in height, with deep sand in the road, the wheels sinking nine inches into it. after struggling over these for five hours, the oxen were done up, and we outspanned for the day at another large dry vlei, but on the bank a small spring of water was issuing, sufficient for the oxen and ourselves, a grand discovery, as we did not expect to find any until we had got clear of this heavy road. a short distance from the water were several families of bushmen, sitting round a large fire; some of them had most extraordinary figures, thin calfless legs, prominent chests and abdomen, altogether different from the other bushmen of the desert, and the colour of their skin was much lighter. a thin band of leather round their loins, and a skin over their shoulders was their only covering; long bundles of skins rolled up with several spears were lying on the ground. the food they live on in a great measure gives them this peculiar formation. they had the short bow and arrow, and quivers made of skins, full of arrows, cleverly made with bone heads, all smeared with poison. they appear to be half-bushman, half-koranna. i started the next morning, and after toiling for several hours, rested, and again went on, crossing those lofty ridges until dark, outspanned for the night in a deep hollow, where there was plenty of good grass, and trees, and dead wood for fire. our trek this day was about eight miles; two great fires were made, and our little party of twenty-six all told, made themselves comfortable over their supper, and at ten all were fast asleep. but we did not get much rest, the lions kept round the camp making a great noise, and being surrounded by these hills and thick bush, we were the greater part of the night obliged to keep a sharp look-out that none of our animals were taken. early the next morning i took my rifle and mounted one of these sand-dunes before inspanning, and found from the base to the summit registered feet. but what a sight when i looked round; as far as the eye could see, nothing but these immense sand-dunes in every direction, here and there open patches of yellow sand and bush, a wild, rugged, and howling wilderness, that appeared interminable, the fit abode for savage man and more savage beast, and here we find them, man in primitive nature, as low a type as the world can produce, little removed from the beast, for it is here i have met those wild men which i have described elsewhere; they are partly covered with short woolly hair, and have no forehead, the scant wool reaching the eyes. they are rarely now seen, even by the bushmen of the desert, as they have repeatedly told me, and here they may find a home for many years to come, for no other living man will fix his residence in such a region of desolation,-- "a wilderness howling and drear, forsaken by man from famine or fear." _pringle_. on our trek we started many head of game, which are easily killed by the bushman arrow, and with these and the many wild fruits they manage to exist. it has taken four days to cross this wild and hilly region which extends over an area as far as i have explored it, fifty miles from east to west, and nearly forty north to south: the home of the leopard and a legion of wild tiger-cats, that are spotted or striped,--their skins make beautiful karosses. on leaving these dunes we come upon a level plain of limestone, which we have ten miles to cross, where there are several watering-places, fountains they may be called, and enter sand-dunes again for some fifteen miles, and then come upon a bush country, with gentle rises and low wooded bills with isolated conical hills of granite. close to the hills, i outspanned near a swamp; the noise from the bull-frog kept us from sleep. they are monsters, a foot across the back and quite black. the bushmen eat them; they would form a fine dish for our french neighbours. the weather is very fine, like an english spring day, everything seems springing into life. clouds begin to collect on the horizon, and the sunsets are most brilliant, purple and gold, forming celestial landscapes of the most gorgeous hues. there are many ostriches to be seen on the flats, but the country is so full of holes, partly covered with grass, that it is dangerous to follow them. far and wide in every direction the character of the country is the same, which we pass through up to meer, the bastard station. we passed several small bushmen kraals; the women and children as we approached hid themselves in the bush, but when they found we were friendly, and giving presents to the men, they came forward. at one we remained a few days to buy feathers, during the time my bushmen and the girls soon made friends with them, and dancing went on in their fashion every evening. these women daub their faces and bodies with black stripes, which they consider ornamental. their natural colour is half black, consequently these stripes show out prominently; they are a mild, timid race, very good-natured, willing to do anything, and, if left alone by the border tribes and the bastards, their lives would be happy; their wants are few and easily supplied, clothes they do not require, the climate at all seasons of the year is seldom colder than our english summer, and, as these children of the desert are constantly shifting their locations, huts are not required, or only of the most primitive kind, a few sticks stuck in the ground, and the long grass thrown over them. this is a portion of the central part of the kalahara. when we arrived at meer, all the people were out ostrich-hunting close round the village, a great excitement, the birds running in all directions, and the bastards after them on their horses; they managed to shoot seven; the others, about fifty, made their escape. meer is a straggling village, the soil is rich and grows good crops of corn, the two pans supply the people with water. dirk falander, the head-man, is supreme over the people. they possess several waggons and have large herds of cattle, and live very comfortably, sending down to the colony for what supplies they require. coffee and sugar are in great demand. after a delay of two days, i left for chuane pits, distant one hundred miles; as the rains were very early, there was plenty of water to be had. this occupied me eleven days. i remained some time on the oup and nosop rivers, hunting, and it was necessary for one or two guns to be out every day to supply my little family with food, and as there was plenty of large game about, we had no difficulty in procuring it. the wild aspect of the country, bush here, open plains there, with long ridges of low hills, no living soul to be seen until we arrived at the pits, and there we found a small family, who on our approach ran into the bush, but my own bushmen called them back; they came very reluctantly, but soon became friends, some fifteen in all, a little dahka and a few beads as presents soon restored confidence amongst them. i am much interested in the bushmen of the desert, and also in the white bushmen of the drakensberg mountains, because they appear from their isolation from the outer world, and cut off as they have been from the tribes that now occupy the regions around them, to be the descendants of the people who occupied the lower end of this ancient continent before the tribes from the north came down, and pushed their way south, bringing with them their asiatic and hebrew customs, which all without exception now practise more or less, evidently proving from what regions they had migrated. eventually they nearly penetrated to cape town. not so with the white bushmen of the drakensberg, the hottentots, or bushmen of cape colony, and the bushmen of the kalahara desert, each retaining up to the present time distinctive physical formations and distinctive dialects, so entirely different from those tribes that come down south and overrun the southern peninsula of the african continent. these ancient aborigines of south africa are comparatively pigmy races to those above referred to, who are as tall, robust, well-formed specimens of the human race as can be found in any part of the world. then again their language, if it can be called such, is entirely different from any other known tongue, their thoughts are described by certain clicks, four in number, the white bushmen of the drakensberg have only these clicks, the hottentots or bush men of the cape have, in addition to the clicks, sounds which accompany the clicks which come from the throat like grunts. the bushmen of the desert have also these clicks, showing, i think conclusively, that these early people were in existence before languages,--what we understand by language, words formed by the mouth, tongue, and lips, as the nations of the world now converse and talk. some of the south african missionaries have committed to paper these clicks, and they state it is a most beautiful and expressive language. at any rate, my belief is, that the earliest formed language of man was by sounds such as clicks and grunts before they advanced so far as to express their ideas by forming words, and language has been progressive as man advanced in civilisation. in travelling over south africa and listening to the sounds of the baboons as they move about the rocks above you, you can detect a great similarity in their guttural sounds and the bushman language, and i could quite understand when my bushman told me he could converse with, and knew much of what these said, showing a connecting link between them. therefore i take much interest in watching their characteristic qualities, in connection with the general run of mankind. anthropological study naturally embraces the study of their early implements, where, and how found, their artistic qualities, and for what purpose made, for peace or war, and this desert is particularly rich in these interesting relics of past ages. the desert on the east and south of these chuana pits, extends up to the chiefs sechele, montsioa, and gaseitsive, that join on the eastern boundary miles, unbroken by rivers or native towns, one immense tract of wood and plains, long flats, and in other parts undulating, with the exception of the detached mountain ranges, which run north and south--the continuation of the langberg range--and they terminate miles south of lake n'gami. they are beautiful, picturesque and lofty hills, rising from their base feet; many of their sides and deep kloofs are thickly wooded with fine timber of great value, and in the extensive ravines are ancient caves, some of them now used by the bushman tribe. this range is distant from these pits about twenty miles on the east. game of every kind is plentiful; lions, also, we hear for hours every evening. hawks, kites, vultures, eagles, locust-birds are almost always seen on the wing. as there was good water at these pits, in consequence of several heavy thunderstorms having passed over the last few days, i have remained here to have a little exploration of the country and provide a good supply of dried meat, which is called biltong, for my people; and in the evenings, when all work is over, they amuse themselves dancing, singing, and shooting at targets with their arrows for small presents, which causes great fun; they are the most happy people in the world. to amuse them i made a kite about three feet in length, and with some string sent it flying, to the astonishment and delight of all. spring was now advancing fast, everything springing into life. the little, happy african lark flying up some thirty feet, where it remains a few seconds, then down it comes with such a sweet plaintive voice, and this is repeated every few minutes, and as there are many of them about, their little notes are constantly heard. thunderstorms are now coming almost daily, and the evening sunsets are the most brilliant and gorgeous that can be imagined, portraying golden lakes, mountains and waterfalls, rivers and islands, with noble castles, and everything to perfect a landscape, and this remains long without alteration. it has been a source of much pleasure in this lonely region to endeavour to convey the like on canvas. as we had now plenty of water and could go anywhere, i struck north, leaving these pits on the th october; but a few days previous to my leaving, i found several small quartz reefs of the right sort for gold. after spending three days with pickaxe and hammer, digging and breaking off nearly a ton of quartz, i was rewarded with one little speck of gold, finding, so far as i could see, that these reefs were not rich; and if they were, the distance is too great to make it pay to work them. on leaving, my friends, whom i found in possession of the pits, wanted to join my party. treking due north, keeping west of these mountains, i outspanned, after four hours, close to one of the highest of the range for the night, as i wanted to make an excursion to the top the next day, to see the country and take observations, altitude, and get the difference in temperature at the highest part. the night passed off very quietly, except hearing in the stillness of the night an occasional roar of a lion and other wild beasts, to give us warning not to sleep too sound. the sun rose the next morning in a magnificent glow of crimson light. after breakfast i started with my driver and five bushmen, each with a rifle and ammunition, all on foot, leaving the waggon at a.m. i soon reached the foot of the mountain, when the difficult part of the journey commenced, passing round projecting rocks, crossing deep kloofs, thick with bush, where we had to keep a good look-out, having only one dog to tell if any lions were near. i managed, after three hours' labour, to reach the highest summit about a.m., a clear lovely morning, without a cloud. the view from this elevated position was grand. in all my wanderings i have never seen anything to equal it, no lofty hills to break the view for miles. the outlook from this point extended both east and west over miles; the lofty hills near secheles could only be distinguished with the telescope, and then like a pale lavender cloud, the country between thickly wooded, and long stretches of open country, apparently a waterless region; the same on the western side, excepting that the country was more open, and the ancient river system could be distinctly traced by the trees and bushes that grew on their banks. the game in the open looked like ants. one of my bushmen called the attention of the others to something they went to look at behind some bushes. going to see what they were examining, i found the remains of four fires that had recently been alight, and several pieces of bone broken near some stones to extract the marrow, but nothing else could be discovered. evidently there were bushmen in these mountains, but no sign of them could we see. after exploring the ins and outs of the topmost ridges, i selected a good position for taking observation, after which we disposed ourselves for lunch; the walk up and pure air gave an edge to our appetites. cold tea and a dash of brandy, which gives the tea the flavour of wine, was served to all alike, and they then disposed themselves on the grass for a smoke. i found the elevation at this point above sea-level to be feet, and from the base of the mountain to where we were feet. at p.m. we made a start for the return journey to camp, taking a different route down, which was much more difficult, the mountain being broken up into many almost perpendicular ravines, and gigantic rocks projecting in all directions. half-way down my bushmen called out in an excited tone that there were several bushmen on a projecting spur making for cover. we counted eleven; how many more we could not tell. i told my boys to call to them to come, but they paid no attention, and suggested that some should go and bring them, but they refused, being afraid they should be shot by the poisoned arrows; and they informed me they were monkeys, not men, meaning they were of the same type as those i have mentioned previously as having woolly hair on their body, legs, and arms. as we wound round the mountain, it being too steep to come straight, we came suddenly upon three more, a man, a woman and child, quite naked, and of a reddish-brown colour. my bushmen called to them in their language of clicks to stop, we were friends, but they seemed much alarmed. a present of beads to the woman gave them confidence. they appeared very young, not more than seventeen. the height of the man was about four feet two inches, large bodies for their size, thin legs, and small receding head, and disgustingly ugly. passing round one of the overhanging rocks, i came upon several caves, none of any great extent, but evidently made use of as dwellings from the numerous remains of fires in them and the smoked appearance of the roofs and sides, and heaps of broken bones lying about, but no one was in them. if i had had the means of sending this little family down to the colony, i should have done so. after a delay of nearly an hour looking about, we continued our downward movements, and reached camp soon after sundown. during our absence one of our bush girls went out with two other little ones to dig up inches, a small bulb like an onion growing in the veldt-- good to eat--when a lion seized and carried her off. the screams of the girl and the two little ones brought several of the bushmen with guns, but no trace of the girl could be found. this occurred just before our arrival, when i formed a party of seven and went to look for her, but night coming on and very dark, it was impossible to follow up the spoor. early next morning by break of day all that could be spared started, but nothing could be seen, the bush being so thick. many of the bush people are carried off in this way. all last night the roar at intervals could be heard far and near; the man-eating lions are the only ones these people greatly fear. to go through my daily routine from place to place, the same duty daily, would become too tedious. we therefore, after leaving this place, visited various localities. my bushmen knew that water could be found at hoodedoon, and the dry river where we managed to capsize the waggon. we reached reitfontain and wahlberg, my old station, at a pan situated at the north end of that mountain range; i had left five weeks back, and encamped once more for a rest. i call this my station in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. the whole of the country is high, ; at my pan the mountain registers above sea-level. after a stay of ten days i left for lake n'gami. the importance of this desert cannot be over-estimated in connection with our interior trade. whatever nation secures it, secures all the trade to the zambese, which would be an immense loss to england and the cape colony. it is capable of great improvement, and under a proper government will become a most valuable field for emigration. chapter thirteen. great namaqualand. this country occupies the western shore of the south atlantic, from the orange river, which is the northern boundary of the cape colony, to walfish bay, a distance of miles. the southern boundary follows up the orange river for ninety miles, where the great fish river falls into it from the north. the native name of this river is the garip. the breadth at its mouth is nearly four miles; the sand in its bed and the many shoals and sand-banks prevent its being navigable. higher up there are long stretches of smooth water for miles, intersected by rapids and rocks,--some of them very beautiful, passing down between broad belts of rich vegetation, with splendid timber of many varieties: the willow, with its drooping branches kissing the water, adds greatly to the beauty of the scene. it was on this river, some miles above, that i spent many delightful months, with my canoe, sailing on its placid waters,--some of the most pleasant of my life. many beautiful stones, not in small quantities, but in cart-loads, can be shovelled up wherever the water has left them on the shore. the upper portion of the river i have already described. following the coast-line north from this river are several anchorages. the principal are angra juntas, whale bay, possession island, which is nearly three miles in length, and over one in breadth--once famous for guano; and if time be permitted will be again a valuable island for that manure. seals frequent this coast at certain seasons of the year, and penguins are also abundant. cape voltas lies on the mainland. north of possession island is angra pequena (now german) island and bay, where the mouth of the little orange river enters it, which rises in the highlands at the back. at pedestal point, bartholomew diaz in erected a marble pedestal, which has long since disappeared. it is a trading-station for supplying the natives of the interior, who trade in feathers, skins, karosses, cattle, and other products, and receive goods from the cape in exchange. a road from the bay is over a dismal, barren, and heavy road for fifty miles, when it becomes better, with some herbage. in the bay there are several islands, viz. penguin, seal, shark, and others, which give good shelter for ships visiting it. copper has been found on the neighbouring coast. north of this bay is the island of ichaboe, which, although very small, is famous for once being noted for its superior guano, supplying england with thousands of tons annually. north of this island is hottentot bay, and beyond spencer's bay, the cliffs rising feet nearly perpendicular; and in the bay is mercury island, nearly a mile in circumference, rising to a height of feet, in which is an immense cavern, divided into several lesser ones, through which the waves rush with fearful force and noise. this rock is bare of vegetation, many sea-birds find shelter upon it-- gannet, penguin, gulls, and others. seals and whales frequent it at certain seasons. in latitude degrees minutes south is hollam bird island, about half a mile in circumference. seals and birds frequent it in large numbers; many turtles have been caught on the shore. in degrees south latitude is conception bay, and to the northward is sandwich harbour, which is situated thirty miles south of walfish bay. sandwich harbour has a coast-line of sand-hills beyond; inland is pasturage for cattle, and on the beach is a spring of fresh water. a fishery was once established here by a cape merchant. the river kusip used to fall into this bay, but now flows into walfish bay. it rises in the uplands, near the tans mountains, but has no water in it, except when it happens to rain, which is very seldom. great namaqualand terminates about this point, and damaraland begins. from the sea-coast for many miles inland the country is barren and poor; as the highlands are reached vegetation improves. the desert of tans extends a long distance inland, nearly to mitchell's mount, which is a lofty hill of feet, commanding most extensive views in every direction. on the tributaries of the great fish river, and the river itself, most of the natives live in small wherfs, at the mission stations belonging to the rhenish mission society, bethany, bethesda, reheboth, and others. the isabella mines and nabos copper-mines are on the orange river. some of the principal wherfs are reheboth, ames, haochannas, nababis, kachasa, amhup, reems, hudenass, brokhout, robaclip, and others, on the various branches. as i have previously stated, the natives are greatly mixed; many of the women daub their faces and bodies with black stripes, and also dye their teeth black; they use a red berry that grows in the bush veldt. jonga africander, the head of the hottentot tribe, living in the northern part of this region, has been constantly thieving from the damaras, causing many petty wars between them. they are a lawless set. they drove out and threatened to kill the magistrate there lately. wood is plentiful in the kloofs and on the river-banks, where the water is procured. the larger game is found in the north-east corner, but has become very wild from constant hunting by the various tribes. the lofty hills are of granite formation and sand. the bastards cultivate the land in favourable localities, plough, and have large herds of cattle, and carry on a good trade with the colony. they are hospitable and peaceable; each wherf has its head-man, with several cattle and vieh-posts attached. copper, lead, and iron are found in several parts, not yet worked; at some future time it will become a valuable district. the summers are hot, and in winter it is sometimes very cold; rain seldom falls, but the dense fogs from the atlantic, over all the western portion and on the highlands, cause such a moisture to fall that it has the effect of rain. the rainy season is from the end of november to may. in the northern part rain is more frequent. the namaqua language is similar to the hottentot and koranna, with innumerable clicks, which make it sound very uncouth and strange to those who have heard it for the first time. in travelling through the country i met with great hospitality amongst the bastards. at nisbet barth there is a wesleyan society. the missionary was away in the colony when i passed through. [here is germany's first attempt at colonisation.] being anxious to go on to the copper-mines on the river, where i could obtain a few things i needed, i did not delay. the country is not a pleasant region to travel through, for several reasons--the scarcity of water, and that brackish; the want of grass; the native cattle, where it would be good, keep it short; and the wandering tribes are constantly annoying and worrying for something. on the banks of the great fish river, near the brinus mountains, i shot a black wolf, the first i had seen, and my people told me they were very rare. i had great difficulty in getting through the country--bad roads and dreadful drifts crossing the rivers. i have little to relate of my explorations of this part of africa, my time being taken up in surveying the country, and collecting specimens. the entire coast is a barren waste, not suitable for emigrants or anything else for fifty miles at least inland. chapter fourteen. damaraland. south central africa. the boundary of this region, adjoining great namaqualand, kalahara, and ovampo, is very undefined. the natives are unacquainted with the true divisions, and as each nationality is not confined to any particular line, living in a kind of mixed community, it is difficult to say where one country begins and the other ends; but from accounts of the people, it appears that the extinct river kuisip, which enters walfish bay, is the correct boundary, and the coast-line to the north reaches to the cunene river, which is also the portuguese boundary of bengulo, the distance being nearly miles. the first and only harbour is walfish bay, being an important trading-station, belonging to the cape colony. this port, where there are two trading establishments, supplies the whole of the northern part of great namaqualand, and also all damara and ovampolands, the central and northern kalahara, as far as lake n'gami. the great drawback to its prosperity is want of fresh water. in many cases the people are supplied with water in casks from cape town, but i believe if proper means are taken by sinking wells, a good supply can be procured. at present a considerable trade is carried on with the natives, and is on the increase. on the north of this bay the river swakop enters the atlantic, which is the main and principal stream that drains the eastern division of damaraland, upon which are situated many natives' wherfs. some of the principal are oekiep, thirty-six miles up the river, then tineos, oijimbinque, otjimonjebba, okandu, little barmen, great barmen, otjithebba, gous, eikham hot springs, and thames mission station. the distance of this last station by road to walfish bay is about miles, which is one of the roads to lake n'gami, and is on the north of awas mountain, that attains an elevation of feet. the scenery in this region is wild and grand, and eastward of these points the ealahara comes in, and is drained by the black and white nosops, elephant river and branches. south of swakop are several native kraals and wherfs; wittwater, reed fontain, tjobis, platklip, onanis mission station on the kuisip, and others. the country is fearfully sandy and dry. the canna river, a tributary of the swakop, branches off thirty miles from the coast. it rises in the spurs of the ketje mountains and flows south-west through a deep valley between some picturesque scenery. upon and near this river are several damara wherfs: omaruru, omapyu, and evonga. a few miles inland from the junction of these rivers is the canrans quanwas, or colquhoun mount, feet above sea-level, a conspicuous object from the sea. copper is found in its vicinity. forty miles along the coast, to the north of swakop river, is the mouth of the omaruru river, which evidently at some seasons must have a powerful current; the washing away of the banks of sand, and large timber trees brought down and left on the bank, is a good proof. extensive copper works have been worked here for some time, but they do not seem to pay the company, long since abandoned. twenty miles inland the lofty and barren hills give a desolate appearance to the country. the sea-coast to the north is bold, and has many projecting headlands. inland, from cape cross, the land rises to an elevation of feet. all this hilly district is inhabited by berg damaras, who are rather scantily dressed. the women have a band round the head with lappets falling behind, a profusion of beads round their necks, with a band and large square apron folded round their loins, and bracelets. the men have a broad belt, leather apron, with parts of tails suspended behind; they have large bows five feet in length, and long arrows tipped with iron. few iron utensils; wooden bowls are mostly used. the upper source of the amaruru rises in the eshuamen mountains, which is a dense bush, and separates damaraland from the ovampo region. the river omuramba, already described in the kalahara, rises in the same mountain, eshuamen, and also mount ketje, taking a north-east course, then flowing east, leaving the lofty range of the omureraoom on the west. the upper part of the swakop has many stations, and is thickly populated. limestone prevails over an extensive area; the peaks, which are composed of this rock, are feet high. the region to the east is the kalahara desert and a thick bush country. the principal road from barmen mission station to ovampoland runs along by the omuramba river, between which and damara the country is divided by an immense thorn district. beautiful and picturesque scenery is to be found in damaraland, where the granite hills stand out in bold and massive peaks. the mineral wealth of this region is little-known; copper, lead, and silver, also iron, abound in the mountains. the natives speak the otjiherero language. there are many mixed races spread over the country, and great numbers of cattle, sheep, and goats are kept by them. several mission stations are established in the country: barmen, otjimbinque, schmelin's hope and others. the climate is very healthy. all the large game are found in these regions. the damaras hunt them with the bow and arrow, but of late years guns have been introduced into the country. they are a stout and powerful people, very dirty in their habits, and seldom remain long in one locality, being pastoral, cultivating no corn, and always at war with the berg damaras, being of a different tribe, using the hottentot language. the rhenish missionary society hold most of the stations, and have been great sufferers by these lawless tribes, being plundered, and several of them ruined, which has destroyed the trade of the country. [illustrative of which, one of the missionary's goats was being constantly milked. one sunday evening he caught a man at it, who ran away, and he threw a piece of wood at him; and complained to the chief, who decided that the man was sufficiently punished by that, and the missionary was fined a goat for breaking the sabbath.] many english traders were robbed and some wounded. the mission stations were established about , but scarcely anything has been done in civilising the people. the namaquas live by plundering their neighbours, the damaras. this was the state of affairs when i first visited that region. since then they have been robbing the damaras of their cattle. several mission stations have been destroyed. their store at walfish bay was broken open and everything stolen, and the manager, mr. toerson, murdered. the europeans in the country, numbering about thirty, made application for assistance at cape town. the governor sent a man-of-war to walfish bay, which returned without landing. since then several british subjects have been murdered, and so things have gone on from bad to worse, and not until were any steps taken; then a commissioner was despatched to endeavour to settle matters, but his influence had little effect in restoring order, and eventually he returned to cape town. it is of the highest importance to the cape colony that walfish bay and the coast-line for fifty miles north and south of it should be annexed to that colony as being the principal outlet for the native trade of the interior. if it should fall into foreign hands an immense injury would accrue by the taking away the greater portion of that trade which rightly belongs to the cape colony. the chief, kamaherero, is almost paramount in the country. the population of the hereros is estimated at about , , and the berg damaras nearly , . the importance of walfish bay is its having the command of all the interior trade of ovampoland, the kalahara desert, and also that extensive region at lake n'gami, a great portion of which is brought across the desert, therefore its importance as a british port cannot be overrated. there is no field for emigration, as the country is too dry for agricultural purposes, and the natives at present are too lawless for any settled community to remain there; but as a trading-station to collect the produce of the interior, and barter with the natives, it is all important that it should be retained. in the latter part of the country was in a lawless state. the gobabis have been robbing waggons; the gobabis are hottentots. they robbed a boer, one van zyl, of all he had, and he had to fly with one of his sons, leaving his wife and another woman with seven waggons, with horses, oxen, guns and ammunition in the hands of the gobabis, who had taken all except the two women. van zyl went to mr. palgrave, the commissioner, for help, to get his wife and waggons from the gobabis hottentots, but mr. palgrave did not assist him, which has caused some comment, and mr. palgrave started away from walfish bay. the hottentots released the two women who were prisoners, and kept everything. nothing has been done to bring peace to the country, as where so many petty chiefs have separate rule in a country like this, it is impossible to have law and order. mr. van zyl was afterwards shot, and also his son some time later. chapter fifteen. ovampoland. south central africa. this extensive region is situated to the north of damaraland, its eastern boundary is the kalahara desert, already described, and on the north-west the cunene river and the portuguese settlement forms its boundary. the high table-land extends over the whole of this region, and is exceedingly healthy, the highest altitude being feet, as far as i have been able to take them. the ovampos have large herds of cattle and goats, and cultivate corn extensively. the people are very black, finely proportioned for strength, and are hardworking and industrious; they speak the otjiherero tongue, and are very jealous of strangers. the only river not yet described that drains ovampoland is the ovampo river, which commences on the west of the central watershed, at an altitude of feet, and in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, then passes north-west, through the great salt vlei, it falls into the cunene river, and thence to the atlantic. the country is said to be rich in minerals, but no time was allowed for exploring. ovampoland is one of the most beautiful parts of south central africa, with picturesque mountains, lovely open glades, well-wooded districts, a rich soil for corn, and a dry and healthy climate. i left otabengo on the th of september, , and proceeded along the okayanka, which passes east and enters the tonka, already described; it rises in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. at chambombo vlei, between this and the ovampo river, we cross the great watershed, and get into the zambese basin. game of every kind is to be found here, the elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe, eland, sable-antelope, gemsbok, and a variety of other kinds; the ostrich, zebra, buffalo, wild boar, besides the lion, wolf, leopard, and other beasts of prey, which nightly visited our camp, causing at times great alarm. there are large open plains with palms, the mighty baobab, the giant of the forest, and other tropical trees and plants. i halted at a small village of the kasaka bushmen, which i named my station, and followed up the river before commencing my return journey. ondonga wherf is where the chief nangaro lived, and was succeeded by chipanga. the country is divided into small chieftainships. the chief chikongo lived on the banks of the cubango or okavango, which is broad, and in the rainy season forms a fine sheet of water. the population is numerous, the villages are fortified, their language is similar to the ovaherero tongue; many of the tribes call themselves ovambuola. the ovaquangari are a tall, well-made race, but very ugly, smeared over with fat and yellow clay; their huts are round, the roof going up into a peak. it is a thickly populated country. bushmen and poor ovaheros are scattered over this region, which with the tribes have already been described. there are no mission stations, but the people are friendly, honest, and hospitable, and travelling through the country in the rainy season is not so difficult. in the dry season there are many parts which cannot be visited. the produce of ovampoland is brought down by traders to walfish bay. some few portuguese travel through it from the portuguese settlement, their merchandise and themselves being carried by slaves. along the ovampo river there are many extensive vleis; some retain their water throughout the year, others are partially dry. the otjihero tribe have many wherfs along the river, and on the banks of the vleis, under petty chiefs, who are almost independent. extensive open grass plains, and portions thickly wooded, fine timber trees, and beautiful flowers. the cotton-plant is indigenous, and if cultivated the country might become a valuable district. between this and the cubango the batibe tribe is found. the natives hunt the leopard, panthers, and the lynx with dogs. wild dogs or african wolves go in large droves and roam the country; they are seen in packs of and upwards. in one of the low-lying swampy pans or pools i witnessed a novel sight late at night; nearly one hundred elephants came to drink, and seven giraffes. the latter have difficulty in bringing their heads down to water. to enable them to do this where the water is shallow they spread out their fore-legs as wide apart as possible, and then bring their long necks down to enable their mouths to reach the water. a full-grown bull-giraffe measures eighteen feet in height. the front legs six feet, six feet at the shoulder, and the neck six feet. when galloping, their unwieldy movements, throwing their heads on each side, give them a strange appearance. although they seem to move slowly, they get over an immense extent of ground in a short time. i have had some difficulty when in the saddle to keep pace with them; they are as timid as lambs. i have ridden for some distance abreast of several at different times within a few yards before i could get a shot; that is the time when their size becomes apparent; and when they fall, after receiving a vital bullet, the sight is grand; but at the same time it is painful to think that such noble animals should be killed to keep the pot. lions sometimes kill them, by springing on their back, seizing the upper part of their shoulder with their mouth, and with one of their hind legs bury their powerful claws into the flank, tearing open the side. this soon cripples them, and they fall with a crash, the lion still holding on; frequently their skeletons are found on the open plain. the man-eating lions are a great terror to the natives. when once they have tasted human flesh they will procure it whenever they have the chance. frequently they will enter the native huts and carry off the first victim within reach. many districts have been abandoned by the people where these man-eaters are numerous. at one of my bivouacs, where i was watching for one of these lions, near a small pool north of the otabengo vlei, there were seven human skeletons that had been brought there by lions, and eaten by them. there are many fine euphorbia, aloes, acacias, mimosas, kameel-doorns, maparri trees, ningano, lotus, and palms, which give a novel appearance to the scenery to a northern eye. on nearing the cubango we fell in with many herds of buffaloes. we shot two, but had a very narrow escape. a dense bush surrounded us, which enabled us to escape, with great difficulty. the next day i found a tree bearing yellow fruit similar to an orange, with a kernel in the centre, rather pleasant flavour, very similar to the marula tree in matabeleland. many kinds of beautiful birds, mocking-bird, swarms of the butcher-bird, namaqua-grouse. along the banks near water thousands of butterflies are seen of many colours, particularly where the ground is moist they settle to suck. almost daily i go in search of insects, and i made many valuable collections to be thrown away from being destroyed by worms and moths. i collected no less than five kinds of bats, some of them very large. these also fell to pieces. although i was not molested by the batibe tribe, i found a stay in the country would add to the suspicions they already entertained, i could see, of my presence, so i moved on, and, taking another route, passing okayanka, crossed a desert through a bush and open country, guided by two kasaka bushmen, and returned to westley vale after a tedious and long journey. although in the rainy season we had difficulty to find water, the soil being sandy, a heavy shower of rain soon soaks into the ground. permanent water there is none. on our way we were caught in one of those extensive veldt fires that are so common all over africa, and narrowly escaped. following down along the great salt vlei, otjando, otjikolo, skirting the otjiokaka mountains, we reached the wells, and up the omuramba, where water was plentiful, made for barmen, where i remained a day, then to eikham, rhenoster vlei, ames, to westley vale on the nosop. the country through which i passed has already been described, in the kalahara desert. on our way down we saw many herds of game, small troops of elephants, a few rhinoceros, koodoos, pallahs, wild boars and others. lions we heard in plenty, but they did not come near. i was anxious to leave the country, as the rainy season was just past, and water was getting scarce, having great difficulty on several occasions to find water for man and beast, and it is refreshing to be able after a toilsome and hazardous journey to arrive at a safe haven, where rest and good water are procurable. as a country ovampoland is rich in game of every description, corn and native products. cotton, if cultivated, would be a valuable product for exportation, but at the present time it is no country for emigration, being extensively occupied by too many uncivilised natives, who are averse to whites living in that country. it is only fit to be preserved at present to the british crown for its native produce and an outlet for british merchandise. before leaving ovampo it will be necessary to give some short description of the ants and ant-hills which are in every conceivable form and size. first comes the lion-ant, that lives in the bottom of a little funnel-shaped hole in the sand, about four inches in depth and four inches in diameter. any fly or small ant coming near falls down with the rolling sand, when out springs the ant, carries him under the sand where he has been watching for his prey, and, when devoured, waits for another. the largest specimen in my possession only measures half an inch in length. the smallest ant makes a little circular ring of sand formed by the ground brought out from a small hole just beneath the ground. they ate so small that when put upon a white sheet of paper they look like fine dust; and yet these little industrious insects form such beautiful and perfect nests with cells in the ground, the extent of which seldom exceeds the size of a small apple. there is a variety of ant-hills over the country, some of them seventeen feet in height and sixty feet in circumference, made by the small white ant, which is so destructive to buildings. mosquitoes also infest the country near the swamps and lagoons. my bushmen and hottentots had a very ingenious method of being free from them at night by digging holes in the ground where they intended to sleep, covering themselves in their blankets in these holes, and throwing bushes over them as they disposed themselves to sleep. sand-flies were also very annoying, and as evening closed in hundreds of fire-flies would be seen in all directions, not forgetting the crickets and frogs, which would keep up a perfect din of noises. beetles of every description and size, particularly some very large rhinoceros-beetles, swarm all over the country. then there is that small animal called the skunk, with black and white fur, but which gives out a most offensive smell, more pungent than the pole-cat. the swamps seem full of the water-tortoise, and the land-tortoise is also very common and grows to a great size. tree-toads and tree-lizards may be seen in the old trees and on the branches. i have found many leaf insects in the desert of various kinds. they look very peculiar walking along; some of them are very pretty, many of a light-green colour, others like brown leaves. there are a great variety of beautiful birds, where water is not far away, and the goat-sucker is a constant visitor at the camp. but of all the most welcome birds is the turtle-dove. when we hear its call we know water is not far away. if proper means were adopted to procure water this region would be capable of supporting a large population, as the country is rich in almost everything that man requires, and is most healthy. the first step to take to open up this part of the desert is to improve the road from walfish bay to lake n'gami, and open out the fountains. this would lessen the distance to our interior trade miles. of late years the game of the country has been greatly reduced in consequence of the natives having guns. chapter sixteen. the transvaal republic. in describing the geographical position of this republic in relation to the adjoining colonies, free state, and native territories, it will be necessary, before entering upon its physical formation, to give an outline of its boundaries, and the important position it holds in the future commerce of the country with the interior trade of south central africa. all the northern portion is situated in the limpopo river basin, the southern in the basin of the orange and vaal rivers. the central watershed being the division which runs east and west from new scotland, passing half-way between potchefstroom and pretoria, on to the western boundary near the village of lichtenburg. the boundary from griqualand west, east of "fourteen-streams" on the vaal river, up that river to klip river (a tributary of the vaal, up which it runs to gans spruit, to where it joins the northern point of natal), is the division between this republic and the orange free state. from thence along the drakensberg for a few miles in an easterly direction to the buffalo river, down that river south to the blood river, a tributary of the buffalo, which is the division between this republic and natal. from the buffalo up the blood river to its source in the magidila mountain, from thence to the conical hill between the pongola river and the drakensberg mountain, is the zulu boundary. the eastern boundary is separated from the portuguese possessions by the lobombo range, the umzila country, and the amatonga kaffirs. the limpopo river is the northern boundary, and the western and north-western by the chiefs khama, sechele, gaseitsive, montsoia, and monkuruan territories, and griqualand west, down to fourteen-streams, on the vaal river, before named. the republic is situated between degrees minutes and degrees minutes south latitude, and degrees minutes and degrees minutes east longitude, and contains about , square miles. the principal rivers are the limpopo and the vaal; the former rises in the high watershed, south of pretoria, at an altitude of feet above sea-level, flowing in a north-north-west direction through a very pretty and picturesque part in the magalisberg range of mountains, which run east and west, on to where the great marico river falls into it, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, at an altitude of feet, passing through a thickly wooded country with many native kraals, skirting dwaasberg and other lofty hills that add much to the beauty of the landscape. from the junction of the marico, the river turns in a northerly direction for about forty miles, where the notuane river joins it; from this point the limpopo turns with many bends and curves in a north-easterly and easterly direction for some miles, forming the boundary between the transvaal and the chief khama, and the matabele nation, down to degrees minutes east longitude, being the north-east corner of the transvaal, and where the chief umzelas territory joins up; from this point, after flowing east for some twenty miles, it takes a south-south-east direction, through umzelas country to the indian ocean. it is a fine, broad stream, increasing in width from the junction of the great marico, where it is about yards; at the mokalapsie river, it is yards; at the junction of the shasha, yards; and increases in size as it passes on through the low, flat country to the sea, where it is three miles wide. it can be made without any difficulty navigable up to the rubie river distant from its mouth nearly miles, taking into consideration the sinuosity of its course, whence a good road could be made to the interior; above this point there are many falls and rapids, the two most important are the impopomene and the tolo, above-named, both beautifully situated between thickly wooded banks; and over the granite rocks in its bed the water falls, and where some of the bed rocks are exposed, in the dry season may be seen hundreds of deep circular holes from one foot to six feet in depth, and from one to three feet in diameter, that have been worn by loose stones in the first instance being revolved round in a depression in the rock, and in time, by the rushing of the waters upon them, have increased them to the present size; they are similar in shape to those on the banks of the vaal, orange, and zambese rivers. the immensity of time it must have taken to wear away such deep and large holes in a granite rock, makes one pause to think of the period when this river was first formed, because it is only a portion of the year, when the floods come down, that the water acts upon the stones in these holes. the principal tributaries of the limpopo that rise in the transvaal are the apies at pretoria, sand, pinaars, plat, matlabatse, pongola, palala, nylstroom, houdt, limvubu, and the olifants river with its many tributaries, all flowing into the limpopo on its right bank. the greater portion of the country which these branches pass through is called the bush veldt, waterburg, zoutpansberg, and is principally occupied by native tribes under their respective chiefs. extensive districts are infested with the tsetse-fly, where a traveller cannot go in with horses or oxen, for one single bite is death. many parts of this bush country, now unoccupied, must at some remote time have been thickly inhabited, as many remains of cultivated ground are seen in all directions--and large heaps of stones thrown up when the ground was cleared for corn, as is the custom with all the natives when they prepare the land for cultivation--but it has long since been overgrown with timber and thick bush. nearly the whole of waterberg and zoutpansberg districts, up to the limpopo, and down to the magalisberg range, a little north of pretoria, is a mountainous region; the latter mountains run in an easterly and westerly direction to the marico district, the south face having perpendicular and rocky sides, the northern face slopes gradually, and this is the case with most of the mountains in this part of africa. the dwaasberg, through which the great marico river has forced a passage, joins on to wittfontainberg. pilandsberg is more to the east, north of which is the karroo desert, where is the marikele mountain, a long range running in an east-north-east direction to hangklip mountain, with detached hills up to marabas town, where gold has been found and a company has long been established, with quartz-crushing machines to extract it. a gold-mining company has been established at nylstroom; copper has been found in many localities. the mural mountain range on the western border runs in a north-east direction for seventy miles, and terminates at the northern point of the pongola river, and can be seen at mongwato, nearly miles distant. makapan's poort is a lofty mountain, a complete honeycomb of caves, where much fighting has taken place between the boers and the chief makapan. the marico district is a continuation of hills and fine rich valleys, the quaka, kolobekatseberg, and to the north, blaauwberg and many isolated hills, north of marabas stad, in the zoutpansberg district, with the mountain of the same name, reaches as far as the limpopo, with the pweede and derdebergs. to the east of marabas stad are many detached ranges, the matyatyeberg, spelunken, and murchisonsberg, situated on the north of the olifants river; north and south-west of lydenburg are the magnet heights and lolu mountains range--well known from the secocoenes stronghold, stormed by lord wolseley when secocoene was taken prisoner. to the east of lydenburg is the continuation of the drakensberg or quathlamba range, broken up into lofty mountains attaining a height of feet; some of the highest are steen kamps, komati, slangapies, rands, and verzamelberg. the whole of this part of the transvaal is rich in minerals, wood, and water. the climate is mild, mostly very healthy; some parts are fever districts. the native population exceeds , , divided into various tribes, that are located to the north of pretoria and lydenburg, to the limpopo, and are composed mostly of mantatees or makatees, and also are known as mahowas, and are divided into several kraals under petty chiefs. these are the origin of the basutus. their queen was called mantantezi, and mosesh, her head-man, deposed and drove her out, and formed the basutu nation, once so powerful that they endangered a large force of ours under sir g. cathcart. there are also what are termed knobnoses, basutos, zulus, pula pula or goat tribe, vaalpans or slaves, that have no resting-place, but roam the country. then there are the two queens, majaji and maselaroon, also albasini, a portuguese at zoutpansberg. polygamy is common amongst all the tribes; a man may have as many wives as he can purchase and keep; they do the greater portion of the work, till the ground, gather in the corn, fetch wood and water, cook, and such other labour as is required. the principal towns in the northern division are, nylstroom, in waterberg; marabas stad, in zoutpansberg, with small villages of upsal, eersteling, and hantbosch; lydenburg, with the gold-diggers' camps, in the lydenburg district; rustenberg, in the rustenberg district; middleburg, in the middleburg district; and pretoria, which is the capital of the republic and a bishop's see, is situated in degrees minutes south latitude, and degrees minutes east longitude. the other rivers in the northern division, and within the limpopo basin, are the crocodile, with its many tributaries, rising in the drakensberg or quathlamba range, and, passing through the lobombo mountain, receives the umcomasi, sabie, and other small streams, and enters the northern part of delagoa bay. the umbelosi drains the country south of the komati, and passing through the lobombo range, enters delagoa bay, or inner harbour at lozrenzo marques; it is navigable from the bay some few miles from its mouth. south of this river is the tembe, which rising in the lobombo mountains, with its small tributaries, enters the inner harbour. the last of the rivers that drain the south-eastern portion of the transvaal is the important maputa or usutu river, which rises in the new scotland district, at an altitude of feet above sea-level, receiving the following tributaries--impeloosi, little usutu, umkompies, umkonto, umtaloos, and other small streams; flowing through the lobombo it receives the pongola river, which rises a few miles to the east of wakkerstroom, and receiving (in its course down) many tributaries flowing east and north, joins the usutu, where it turns in a north-east and north direction for fifty miles; when a broad and navigable river it enters the southern part of delagoa bay. the lower portion for twenty miles passes through the portuguese possessions, and after crossing the lobombo mountains, it leaves the transvaal and amaswasiland, and enters the northern part of zululand or amatonga country. this completes the river system on the east of the limpopo basin. on the west there are a few branches of the limpopo on the left bank, that will complete this western division, viz. the great and little marico rivers, the molmane, the upper portion of the notuane, and the franks and elands rivers, that drain the marico and rustenburg districts; the orange and vaal river basin, which is separated from the limpopo by the central watershed, already described, which is also called the hooge or high veldt. the vaal river rises in the quathlambe mountains on the eastern border of the transvaal, called the new scotland district, at an altitude of feet, near lake crissie, flowing south-west past the town of stamlerton, which is on the main transport road from natal to pretoria, passing through an open country, receiving in its course many small feeders; from this town the river turns westerly to klip river, which is the boundary between the orange free state and the transvaal. from this point the vaal forms the boundary between the two republics, down to griqualand west, taking many turns and twists in a westerly, then south-westerly direction, receiving in its course many streams on the right bank, within the transvaal boundary, as under--klip, gans, sand, bushman, kapok, rand, waterfal, klite, kalk, eland, ensel, all spruits, to the moi river, upon which potchefstroom is built. following the river down we next come to loop, baken, machave, and kockemere spruits; scoon spruit, upon which klerksdarp is built. crossing several other small spruits we come to klip spruit, lion, wolf, maquassie, and bamber spruits. the harts river, which is a tributary of the vaal, enters it within the boundary of griqualand west, rises on the central watershed at lichtenburg village, in the transvaal, at an elevation of feet above sea-level, and flows in a south-west direction, passing the koranna kraal, maamousa, and the bechuana territory, under the chief monkuruan, where it leaves the transvaal republic and enters griqualand west. the boundary of this chief is now being arranged by general sir charles warren. this completes the river system of the transvaal in the orange river basin. the towns within this area are utrich, darby, lunenberg, wakkerstroom, standerton, heidelburg, fentersdorp, potchefstroom, klerksdarp, lichtenburg, bloemhof, and christiana. there are no hills of importance in this division, only a few isolated "kopjies" at potchefstroom, hartebeestfontein, and at klerksdarp, which do not call for any particular description. on the south-east boundary is a native territory called swaziland, or the amaswasi country, belonging to a zulu tribe; it is situated between the republic, zululand, and the portuguese possessions at delagoa bay. it is a very hilly and well-wooded district, thickly populated with a warlike race. the transvaal republic say it is within their boundary, but the natives deny it; at any rate the boers at present have no authority over them, and the chief rules quite independent of the transvaal. it has long been under our protection, and it was the main cause of the zulu war, because we would not allow cetewayo to "wash his spears" in them. gold-fields are now there. the english and boers have _hired_ large tracts of their country as cattle-runs, and will never be got out. there are many roads to the transvaal from the cape colony and natal; those most used are from kimberley diamond-fields, passing up on both sides of the vaal river; they are rough, sandy, and in places very stony; others pass through bloemfontein in the free state, crossing the vaal at several drifts. from natal there are two over the drakensberg to harrismith, on to potchefstroom and heidelburg; also two passing through newcastle, one going to standerton and pretoria, the other to wakkerstroom, lydenburg, and the gold-fields; portions of them are very good, other parts rough and heavy travelling. it is the same with all others that traverse the country, as they are never repaired. the country on the south side of the watershed or high veldt is open and uninteresting, long stretches of rolling plains, not a bush or tree to be seen for miles; except here and there, at long intervals, a boer farm is seen, and near it occasionally a garden surrounded by the well known tall gum trees; no kaffir locations are seen in any portion of this part, a few huts occupied by the kaffir servants may be located near each farm. the country is suitable for cattle, but sheep do not thrive. this country is divided into thirteen districts--seven in the limpopo basin, and six in the orange and vaal basins. the first contains pretoria, rustenburg, marico, waterburg, zontpansberg, lydenburg, and middleburg. the second potchefstroom, bloemhof, heidelburg, wakkerstroom, utrecht, and standerton. the white population, which was estimated in , did not exceed , of all nationalities. since the retrocession of the transvaal it has greatly diminished, probably not more than , at the present time; putting five to a family, on an average, there would be families, of which would be made up of english, french, germans, hollanders, and other europeans, to occupy this extensive country, which, deducting for native tribes, leaves for each white individual, great or small, acres, and yet the boers are not content with this large share, but must make war on native tribes to possess themselves of more. if they were an industrious and well-disposed people, and cultivated their lands in a proper way, the transvaal would, and ought to be, the most prosperous and well-to-do country in south africa, having all the advantages of a subtropical climate, plenty of water (if properly utilised) for cultivation, abundance of coal and other minerals, splendid grazing for cattle, and many other advantages; but no, they would sooner expend their energies in fighting the native tribes and stealing their cattle, because it pays them better, than devote their time to peaceful pursuits. from the time the boers have held the transvaal they have pursued this policy--as is well known by every colonist in the country, and nothing but a firm government will ever bring them into a civilised state, and prevent their atrocities from being further perpetrated, as has lately occurred on their north-west border and in zululand. the splendid position the transvaal occupies in south africa, with all the advantages above stated, the proximity to natal, and the seaports of durban and delagoa bay, and eventually a railroad from newcastle to pretoria, as also from kimberley and delagoa bay, shows that this country has great facilities for supplying the native trade in the north-east of south central africa, where the population is great, and the country rich in all kinds of produce. the gold will soon bring all this. chapter seventeen. a brief historical sketch of the transvaal from to . it will only be necessary to touch very lightly on the principal and most important events that have occurred from the commencement of the invasion of the kaffir chief, moselikatze (pronounced umseligas), to the time when the country was taken over by the british government, as it is my intention to go into the history of this republic only so far as will throw light on its physical geography. in the powerful chief moselikatze fled from chaka, the king of zululand, with all his people, and crossed the drakensberg mountains to the north, into what is now the southern portion of the transvaal and free state. there he found the country thickly populated by various native tribes, living independent of each other in large kraals along the river-banks, fountains, and pans--many of these stone kraals are still in existence, but in ruins--the principal tribes being makatees or mahows, bapedi, bakala, basutos, and some bechuanas, bushmen, also hottentots, where they must have lived in peace for many generations, from the remains of extensive gardens now grown over with grass, proving, i think, they were not a wandering tribe, but a peaceful people, as the country was most suitable for agricultural purposes, being free from bush and comparatively level, with numerous streams of good water flowing in every direction. moselikatze, with his several hundred warriors, soon cleared the country by the death and flight of these people; and eventually spreading northwards and towards the west, crossed the vaal river, and occupied all the south part of what is now the transvaal. moselikatze, in , pushed on his conquests where he found the country occupied by the bahurutse tribe of bechuanas, on the west of what is now klein marico, and fought a great battle with them at their station named mosega, situated on a small branch of the klein marico river, above where sindling's post is now built, and defeated them with great slaughter, occupying the country, and taking possession of the station--situated in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, south of several picturesque hills, that appear by every indication to have been a volcano--and there he collected his forces, and there he seems to have remained until he was, in , attacked by the emigrant boers under one potgieter, who suffered a great defeat at the hands of the zulu chief, who nearly destroyed the boer commando. those who escaped fled to the orange free state on to thaba nchu, then occupied by the barolong tribe of bechuanas under the great chief moroka, who died in . when the boers reached moroka's town, they were reduced to the greatest extremity, and were received with the greatest hospitality and kindness by the natives; they remained until the following year, getting supplies and fitting out another commando at thaba nchu. again they started on an expedition to attack moselikatze, accompanied by a large force of moroka's people under his own command, whilst gert maritz commanded the boer contingent. the present chief montsioa, then a young man, also aided the boers in person with men, and a small griqua force, under a petty chief bloem, completed the little army. a great part of moselikatze's warriors were killed, and he had to fly north with the remnant of his army, and eventually settled in the country his people now occupy called matabeleland, showing that the main success of the boers in gaining a footing in the transvaal was through the barolong tribe, of which the chief montsioa was a captain. in the same year potgieter took possession of the south part of the transvaal, then, as it is now, an open uninteresting country--rolling grass plains, with a few isolated hills; and he laid out the town of potchefstroom, in , which is partly called after his name and partly after the river upon which it is built, on an extensive open plain, as all towns were then built, that no enemy could advance to it without being seen, and it became the capital of the country until the seat of government was removed to pretoria in . at that time the country was full of large game--elephants, rhinoceros, and giraffe browsed on the banks of the vaal, down to the orange river. soon after, potgieter left potchefstroom and went north-east, and laid out the village of origstad, now a gold-field. other boers in followed, and being mounted on horses with rifles, had no difficulty in destroying the natives, who had only the assagai and arrows, as they advanced into the country. another party went south from origstad, and built the town of lydenburg, that district being formed into a republic, separate from the republic at potchefstroom; but, by common consent, in they were united into one. in a party of boers, numbering twenty-seven families, under the command of rensburg and trichard, endeavoured to reach the indian ocean. passing down the olifanta river, they crossed the mountains, after many hardships; where they divided. rensburg went north, trichard and his party travelled south-east towards delagoa bay. many of them died on the road; the remainder were sent on to natal by the portuguese governor. rensburg's party was never heard of again, showing the restless nature of these discontented boers. they were all killed, or died of fever. although they had secured the fertile plains of the transvaal, where there was more land than they could hope to occupy, their thirst for more land was still unsated. after the battle of boomplaats the rebel boers crossed the vaal, treked to marico in , where some of them are now occupying the land they laid out for themselves; and they still foster hatred against the english, and since this last rebellion it has greatly increased in intensity, and nothing but a strong government and an influx of british emigrants will allay, or partly extinguish, that feeling, which their present isolated position is conducive to foster, and teach them to understand, as general warren is now doing, that there must be a limit to their lawless acts. from many free state boers and others from the cape colony, as also many english, germans, swedes, and other nationalities, came in and settled down in different parts of the country, making small villages and occupying farms over the whole of the more southern portion of the republic, leaving the northern part, which is thickly populated by the native tribes already described. on the diamond-fields being discovered, diggers came flocking on to the banks of the vaal, to open up the mines at hebron and klip drift. in there was great demand for all kinds of produce, consequently prices went up quickly to per cent., which brought money into the transvaal, as the greater portion of the food supply was obtained from thence. pretorius was president, and made an attempt to annex all the country on the north side of the vaal, but was opposed by the cape government and by the diamond-diggers, which led to the dispute as to the western boundary of the republic. a commission was formed, which ended in the keats award; the map i made in was used for the occasion by the colonial government. soon after, in , president pretorius resigned, and erasmus acted until mr. burgers was elected by the people. the state all this time was getting into such confusion that people would not pay their taxes, and there was no law to make them. the secocoene war was going on, "commandeering" was at its height, general discontent prevailed, and matters arrived at such an unsatisfactory state in that hundreds of boers sold their farms with the intention of leaving the country, as they could not live under their own government. i was constantly passing through the transvaal with my waggon to distant parts, and every boer who had not tied from the colony for misdeeds, hoped the british government would take over the transvaal under british rule. hundreds expressed this wish; the rebels from the colony and their sons did not say a word. those boers who sold their farms agreed to trek together, and make for damaraland on the west coast. one of the boer's statements for leaving his transvaal home may give some idea of the feeling that pervaded these trek boers at the time:--"i found myself among the commandeered. on my farm nothing had as yet been put in the ground, and as no one could be got to go as my substitute, there was nothing for me but to go on the commando. my waggons and cattle had also to be given up for the use of the commando. in my absence my wife had to plough, in order to obtain sufficient food for the year. i returned from the commando, having lost several of my cattle on the way. i went to the field-cornet of moi river, in whose district i lived, with the view of obtaining compensation, but i was informed that nothing could be done in the matter. under the old law compensation could be obtained for damage to what had been lent, but there was nothing mentioned about this in the new commando laws. it appeared the waggons and oxen were commandeered at the owner's own risk. i was so struck with the unrighteousness of this mode of proceeding that i felt myself compelled, with all my belongings, to join the trek for which a party of boers were already prepared, and with them i then threw in my lot; and on the nd of march, , we left the transvaal. our party consisted of souls, large and small, with waggons, under the command of du plessis, and arrived at the crocodile river or limpopo, where we remained a fortnight, and then went forward into the wilderness." very few ever reached their destination. they were attacked by the natives, and had constantly to form themselves into laager to defend themselves. their cattle died of lung-sickness and thirst, many of them were stolen, some lost in the bush; waggons and property had to be abandoned; women had to inspan the waggons and drive them; to lighten them their household goods had to be thrown from the waggons. some few reached damaraland, and a few went more north into the portuguese possessions, where small plots of land were given to them; those in damaraland were taken to cape town from walfish bay, and sent back to the transvaal at the cape government expense; and this occurred during the time the boers had the transvaal, and their own chosen president was at the head of the republic. in a few months after i followed them up, and saw the graves of those who had died of fever; and a kaffir told me one of the boers had given him a good gun for a small bucket of water. chairs, tables, cooking utensils, and other articles strewed the path through the desert; and the bones of the dead oxen, that the vultures, wolves, and jackals had picked clean, covered the ground where they fell--a melancholy sight; and all this suffering was caused because these boers found their own republican government unbearable to live under. and this is the best answer to be given as to why the british government found it imperative to step in, and put an end to such a wretched state of affairs, which act was accomplished on the th of april, . the remnant of these trek boers were in the portuguese territory, at the back of mossamedes on the west coast, perishing from starvation and misery, when a subscription was raised at cape town for them, and a ship-load of supplies and a man-of-war were sent down. they tried to land some hundreds of miles up the coast beyond walfish bay, so as to be nearer to the boers, but were prevented by the surf; they returned, and the supplies were sent up with great difficulty, and many of the boers came down, as stated, and went back by sea. chapter eighteen. the physical geography of the transvaal, and other subjects, continued. the altitude of the transvaal above sea-level is one of its most important features in connection with its climate and vegetation; there is no portion below feet, except at the northern extremity along the limpopo river, where the elevation is lowered on that river to feet. the other portions of the republic average feet between the mountain ranges that traverse the country. in the north-east division, north of the olifants river, the zoutpansberg range, the tweedeberg, the derd mountains, the latter being within a few miles on the south side of the limpopo river, with the matin hills, near which the tave river flows, vary considerably in altitude from to , mostly of sandstone formation. the eastern portion through which the pafure river flows is called basoetla, occupied by the mantatees, knobnoses, and other tribes, in large and numerous kraals along the streams; albasini's town being situated on the south side of zoutpansberg. the country is rich in corn-land and fine grasses, splendid forests of timber, of which the famous baobab tree is very common and of immense size, the bark of which is used for making sacks, blankets, and other useful articles; cobalt, iron, copper, and lead, are found in great quantities, and also gold in the more southern portion. north of the olifants river, and south of albasinis, is the mountain range called matzatzes mountain, feet above the sea-level. the district is called splelunken, where sugar and coffee is cultivated, and fine farms occupy a large extent of country. south of this mountain is the district of batlokoa, also occupied by the mantatees, who are sometimes called mahows. in the bakhalaka district, south of the above, is marabas stad, eersteling gold company, and many good farms. the tributaries, lehtaba the little, lehtaba the great, letsitee, sumbane, salati, all branches of the olifants river, rise in these two districts, passing through as wild and picturesque a country as an explorer can desire to visit--beautiful isolated hills of every form, particularly down near pikiones kop and the nunkula hills, where copper and gold have been found. game of every description roam these extensive and splendid forests. lions, tigers, and wolves, besides a host of tiger-cats and other animals, are plentiful. the country has never been prospected, but there is every indication of extensive gold-fields some day being discovered. on the north of this last-named district is the district of baramapulana, which includes schoemansdal, through which the sand, houdl, and brack flow to the limpopo. the hills are also of sandstone. to the west of this region is the bamalitsi district, and to the east bamapela, all within the zoutpansberg division, and through nearly the central portion the tropic of capricorn runs. the maalaqueen or nylstroom, an extensive river rising in the mountains round nylstroom, flows north through makapans poort, past potgieter rust for eighty miles, and through blaauwberg, a lofty range, and on through a dense and beautiful forest for nearly miles, entering the limpopo. the forest is full of game of every kind; the natives live on the river-banks. the tsetse-fly, being so common, prevents the country being occupied by the white man, as no horse or any description of cattle can live where they are. south of this district is the waterberg division, in which are situated the rivers palala, pongola or sand river, with its many branches, rising in the waterberg and hangklip mountains, a hilly and wild country, in which is situated nylstroom, and the river matlabatse rises in the marikele mountains of feet, and is a continuation of the makapan mountains from makapans poort, running in a west-south-west direction to wittefontein and dwaarsberg, crossing the limpopo and great marico into bechuanaland, and there spreads out into many spurs in that country. granite is found at the junction of the limpopo and great marico, and down those rivers, sandstone, limestone and slate are found in the last-named mountains. south of waterberg is the rustenberg district, in which is situated the towns of zeerust and rustenberg, with many villages. to the north of the latter town is pilansberg, where one of the upper branches of the limpopo rises, forming the elands river. the great marico rises in the rustenberg district, on the central watershed at doorm kop, where there is a lovely waterfall of some seventy feet, falling down a steep bank into a deep kloof of most beautiful scenery. a few miles north of this is bray's lead-mine, which is very rich in silver, producing over fifty pounds to the ton. the mine is situated about twenty miles to the north-east of lichtenberg, and about twenty-eight miles south-east of zeerust. the country is very pretty and picturesque, with many fine fountains, beautiful grass-lands, and richly-wooded hills. marico district is one of the most valuable portions of the transvaal, being situated on the main transport roads to the interior from cape colony, orange free state, transvaal, and natal; besides being rich in lead, there is copper and gold, and any quantity of iron, oxide of iron, and many-coloured ochres. the town of zeerust, which is in the marico district, is very pleasantly situated on the little marico river, on the south side of a pretty range of hills, close to a picturesque poort, through which the little marico runs to great marico, and where i have had many pleasant days' sport in fishing and shooting, before zeerust town was ever built. the first bricks were laid in the erection of an extensive laager by the boers in , and the town was commenced in . it is now a considerable commercial centre, with many good stores. the rapid increase of the town after british annexation, and the extensive trade carried on by the english traders with the interior, made the town one of great importance to the transvaal. since, the retrocession nearly every store is closed, and the town is comparatively deserted. the last lion shot in this district was in the above-named poort in . eighteen miles to the north-west of zeerust is the large kaffir station, rinokano, and a mission station under the rev. mr. jansen, pleasantly situated at the head of the notuane river, between long ranges of hills that run at the back of zeerust. the old chief moelo lived here for many years, and at his death, his son moelo and his nephew copane disputed the chieftainship. the people divided, and eventually it was settled by the british government, in , that one should rule at the station, and the other should form a kraal and rule more to the north. forty years ago the elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe, and other large game were plentiful all over these hills and plains; now a few bush-buck, springbok, and other small game are found, but it is a hard day's work to shoot one now. the beautiful springs that flow through this part of the country are utilised to some extent in irrigation, and for turning small mills for grinding the corn. there are many extensive and valuable farms in the marico district. oranges, lemons, pomegranates, and all english fruit grow to perfection. peaches are so plentiful that i have frequently fed the pigs with them. i am writing of the country twenty years ago, when not one-fourth of the population lived in the country that are now occupying the land. there was no town then; zeerust, jacobsdale, lichtenberg, were not thought of. there were five boers who possessed all the land round the country, and some of these farms contained , acres or , morgen; they were five of the boers who fled from the orange river sovereignty after boomplaat's affair, treked as far as marico, where they divided the country between them, and which they or their descendants still hold. in this district are the ancient stone kraals mentioned in an early chapter; but it requires a fuller description to show that these extensive kraals must have been erected by a white race who understood building in stone and at right angles, with door-posts, lintels and sills, and it required more than kaffir skill to erect the stone huts, with stone circular roofs, beautifully formed, and most substantially erected; strong enough, if not disturbed, to last years, as the walls and roofs of the huts were two feet in thickness, built of partly hewn stone. the divisional walls and outer wall were five and six feet in thickness, and at the present time five feet in height at places, the upper stones having fallen; and now large trees are growing through the walls. but in no case have i discovered any trace of mortar or any implements. plenty of broken crockery is found in the ground when it is turned up, but none on the surface. kaffirs have never been known to build their huts with stone, or make fences at right angles, everything with them is round; they will have stone walls round their huts, but nothing more. there are extensive remains of ancient diggings to be found all over the country, which proves that at one time all this part of africa has been prospected, and what favours this view is, that where there is a smooth natural rock exposed above the ground, extensive carvings of animals are cut deep into it, which nothing but a hard cold-chisel could make any impression on this igneous rock, that is as hard as steel, and which, i believe, were executed by the people who built those stone huts. there are also small furnaces still remaining in some of the remote nooks, out of the way of being destroyed by the people or oxen; but for what purpose they were made cannot be discovered, all we know is that large quantities of lead and copper are found in the neighbourhood; and close to them is a lofty hill in which are found thousands of perfect cubes, from an eighth of an inch to an inch square, which when broken show a bright colour between brass and gold, which, i conclude, is iron pyrites: they have a rich brown colour on the surface. gold i have found in this locality when prospecting, which i well remember, as in consequence of a fall from a quartz reef i smashed a watch. i had occasion to go frequently to marico, as there were many roads branching off in all directions--one called the river road to mongwato, three to the bechuana chief, others to kuruman, the colony, also to pretoria and potchefstroom. zeerust is about ninety miles to the west of rustenberg; the latter is a small town surrounded by hills, and where some fifty of our troops were in a laager or small fort during the whole of the boer rebellion. it is situated on the hex river, a tributary of the limpopo. about twenty miles south of rustenberg, on the road to potchefstroom, at blaawabank, are gold-diggings, but it is not a paying affair. the country is wild and picturesque. old remains of copper-mines are to be seen a little south of the town. forty miles to the east is pretoria, the capital of the republic and seat of government. it is pleasantly situated between low ranges of metamorphic hills that run east and west, and is south of the magalisberg mountains seven miles. the city is built on an open plain, that gradually slopes towards the north, supplied with beautiful fountains that rise a few miles on the south of the town, the water falling into the apes river. an isolated hill, about three miles on the east of the town, is a conspicuous object in the landscape. the streets run parallel; the market-square is open, with the dutch church in the centre; there are several good hotels and a cathedral; bishop bousefield lives in a snug house, with very fine blue gum trees in front. many large stores were erected during the british occupation; but at the retrocession the greater number were deserted, and a general exodus of the english took place, for it was impossible to live under the new state of affairs. the town in was not one-fourth the size it was when the transvaal was returned to the boers in . mr. burgers was then president, and he laboured hard to improve the country; but the people were not to be moved, and no advance in civilising them could be made. there was no money in the country, except a little english gold, everything was by barter until , when paper money was issued, called bluebacks, to the extent of , pounds, and from time to time fresh issues were made to meet the expenses of the state. they varied in value, viz. in shillings pence, and pound shillings notes, but commercially the pound shilling notes were only worth two to three shillings. i had many of them, which i took at that price, and disposed of them for the same; but if you had to pay the government tax the full price was allowed, for they could not refuse their own notes. the country is open and free from any extensive wood, and the climate is suitable to produce every kind of vegetation. in the spring of the year the thick rose-hedges which divide the gardens give a very pleasing appearance to the town, when they are in full bloom. the extensive barracks and fortifications erected by the british government on the south of the town, at a cost of over , pounds, have been made a present to the boer government for their disloyalty to british rule. the roman catholics have a convent with several nuns, which at the outbreak of the rebellion was taken possession of and strongly fortified. the nuns and lady superior were placed in a corner of one of the buildings. all the rest of the establishment was taken, and converted into a kind of barrack for the volunteers of pretoria, formed into four companies, of which i unfortunately belonged to number , where we had to do sentry night and day. our bed was a waterproof sheet on the bare stone floors, and as the convent swarmed with fleas of all sizes, from the heavy dragoon down to the light infantry, there was no fear of a sentry sleeping on his post. every second night my company was ordered to occupy the interior of the convent during the night; each volunteer was assigned his particular post in the various compartments and passages, placing a sentry at different points, the rest to sleep-- if the fleas would let them--fully armed, ready at a moment's notice to defend our position. my post was generally at the entrance-passage to the priests' quarters, which had been vacated by them, and on the bare stone floor i spread my waterproof sheet to get a little sleep; but the fleas, not one but millions, came down upon me in every quarter--poor things, they missed the nuns and the priests, for they were ravenous. finding i should be sucked dry in a very short time, i took my rifle and sixty rounds of ball cartridge, made for the entrance, and passed the night on the door-sill, in about as happy a state of mind as a poor devil could be who had been marching up and down all day between the convent and the garrison. for fourteen days, from the th of december, , to the nd of january, , i had to put up with this sort of work, until i suffered so much from the excessive fatigue and want of sleep that i obtained three days' leave of absence, as i felt unequal to the work and required rest; but at the expiration of that time i became dangerously ill from the overstrain on my system, and got a medical certificate which relieved me of any further military duty in number company, and from that date to the end of the rebellion i lived in my waggon. at the commencement of december, when we expected the boers would make an attack on the town, all the males in the four wards of the city volunteered to protect the women and children in each ward, and as my waggon was outspanned in number , i joined with the rest; but when the news came into pretoria that the boers, to the number of , had been in ambush at bronkhurst spruit for two days, waiting for the advance of a portion of the th regiment from lydenburg, which had been murdered by the boers, a council was held, and on the th of december martial law was proclaimed, and all those who had formed themselves into volunteers to protect women and children were marched up to the barracks as regular volunteers. my waggon was drawn up to camp, and placed under the charge of the authorities during my soldiering. the history of this rebellion has been so ably and graphically described by others, it will be useless for me to go more into the subject. i can merely state the first news of the british surrender that reached camp, of the war being concluded, and the retrocession of the transvaal to the boers, arrived on the th of march, . the principal portion of the transvaal, north of pretoria in the zoutpansberg and waterberg districts, is called the bush veldt, where most of the farmers living on the high veldt, between potchefstroom and pretoria, trek at the close of the autumn with all their family and stock, and remain the winter, where the cattle and sheep find warm shelter in the thorn forests; and return to their farms when the spring grass is sufficiently high for the stock to feed. the boers make this trek a kind of picnic, and it is the only kind of life they enjoy. this high land is also called witwater rand; the elevation above sea-level is feet. extensive seams of coal have been discovered about forty miles to the east-south-east of pretoria. roads in every direction traverse the country. the distances from pretoria to the following places are: to the west, rustenberg, miles; north to marabastadt, miles; east to middleberg, miles; and to lydenburg, miles; south to heidelburg, miles; standerton, miles; and newcastle, miles; south-west to potchefstroom, miles; and to kimberley diamond-fields, miles. middleberg is a small village on the road from pretoria to lydenburg, and the gold-field is in this district; a cobalt-mine has been discovered. lydenburg is situated in the open country, on a branch of the spekboom river. the country round is very hilly, some of them attain a height of feet above sea-level. the average height of the gold-diggings is feet. the detachment of the th that was murdered at bronkhurst spruit, for some months held possession of a small fort here, before they marched for pretoria south of this town, some seventy miles, is a district called new scotland, on the eastern boundary of the republic, which was in brought under the notice of a mr. mccorkindale for the purpose of forming a scotch colony, but it fell to the ground. klip staple, already described, and the source of the vaal river, spring from this locality. wakkerstroom and utrick have also been mentioned in the first chapter. the only portion requiring explanation in the district of derby and lunenburg, with its little colony of germans who suffered great losses during the zulu war. heidelburg is pleasantly situated on the south side of the watershed, containing many well-built houses. it was during the rebellion the headquarters of the rebels, and from which captain elliot was released and shot by the boers when crossing the vaal river. the road from pretoria to natal passes through this town, and also standerton, another small town on the vaal, and on to newcastle. standerton was also held by the british troops during the rebellion. to the west of heidelburg, seventy miles, is the town of potchefstroom, the first town laid out by the boers in taking possession of the country, situated on the moi river; nearly half of the inhabitants were english, germans, french, and other nationalities. it is feet above sea-level; there are some interesting limestone caves on the river, in which are imbedded many bones. the town is well laid out with fine fruit-gardens. tobacco is extensively cultivated in the vicinity and all over the republic, and is well known for its fine quality. thirty miles to the west is klerksdarp, on schoon spruit, and to the north-west of potchefstroom, seventy miles, is lichtenburg, a village erected in . there is also between these two the village of hartebeestfontein. potchefstroom from kimberley is miles. following the vaal down west is bloomhof, a poor miserable village, and on towards kimberley is christiana, another poor and desolate place; they have been the rallying-points for the freebooters to attack the bechuana chief. the whole of this division of the transvaal is open and uninteresting. between christiana and lichtenburg is a farm called gestop, situated in a very pretty valley, close to a picturesque hill. on the northern slope are some ancient carvings of animals on the rocks, which are composed of a close-grained kind of freestone; several of them are on rocks at the base of the bill, others half-way up, made no doubt by the people who made the others, the workmanship being similar. up the valley by the side of the bill was, when i used to visit it, a favourite resort for the muscovy duck, and where i have frequently gone to shoot them, but they are most difficult to get near. the only way of getting a shot at them was to hide in the long reeds that grew on the banks of the stream and wait for them to fly over, which they did regularly about four o'clock in the afternoon, where they remained the night, and away in the morning to some other favourite locality. a few hundred yards from the farm-house is a stone or rather a kind of slate quarry. the stone is of a light colour, very soft; it can be sawn into any shape required, and is much used for grave-stones; slabs of any size and thickness can be obtained; it can also be used for mantelpieces, and any other kind of work. the hills and veldt on the farm have many valuable herbs, and two kinds of wild tea, equal in flavour to that from china,-- in fact, i prefer it to the imported teas, and it is a splendid tonic. the country round is more diversified with hill and dale, and thickly wooded with the mimosa and other trees and bush. mr. van zyl, who occupied the farm when i knew it, sold it some time after, and treked with his family and all his belongings out of the transvaal to be free from the boer government, and went into the interior hunting, where the namaquas robbed him of all his property, waggons, and everything, and shot him and his son. a few miles to the north of gestop are the famous salt-pans, and barber's pan, of which a description has been given, and a few miles to the south-east is reid vlei, a pretty piece of water, a great resort of wild-fowl in those days long past. it is a wonder now to see a single duck; it is pretty nearly the same with the game. at that time they could be counted by the thousand, now it takes a long ride to meet with a few. i have had troop after troop pass in front of my oxen as i have been treking along the road, by the thousand, and not ten miles from this farm; and, as i camped out in the afternoon on the plains to remain the night, have been much interested in watching the old gnu-bull standing alone doing sentry duty, keeping guard over the cows and young ones when feeding a few hundred yards from him. he would always select an elevated piece of ground to have a good view round, and every few minutes he would change his position to all quarters of the compass, and the first sign of danger give several barks as warning to the others, and then, with a quick switch of his tail, head down, gallop off to his friends and remove them further away from any enemy that may be approaching. in all these open flats there are always to be found large dried-up pans, all of them brack, which is very suggestive of sea-water. it is not only the pans but the entire soil that is brack, from one end of south africa to the other, some parts more than others. it is only in small pools, or at fountains, where fresh water can be obtained. to one large dry pan, half a mile in diameter, and fifty feet deep, with very nice sloping sides, i gave the name of chalcedony pan, from the immense quantity that covered the ground, not only round the pan but for miles in every direction; and on all these high flats, every variety of agate, flint, cornelian, and other kinds of every colour and form, as also splendid specimens of petrified woods, and in the stone hills, large shells, but empty of the snails, many of them beautifully marked, also small fresh-water shells of various sizes, and i have spent many pleasant days prospecting for some of these specimens. near christiana, on the vaal river, are two extensive dry brack-pans, the largest is two miles round. on the south side the ground forms a small hill with bush and trees upon it; this is between christiana and bloomhof, where there are several salt-pans a few miles to the north of that town, where a large quantity of salt is procured annually of good quality. the salt can only be obtained on certain occasions, which is very peculiar, showing there must be a vast quantity of salt below the pans' beds. these salt-pans are quite dry and free from water for some four or five months a year, when there is no salt to be seen, and it is not until the rainy season is over, and the water that has collected in the pans during that time (some two feet deep) has in the course of a few months evaporated, that the salt appears to have been drawn from the deposit below to the surface by the action of the water upon it, and a thick deposit is left, which is collected by the proprietor, and sold at various prices. i have paid for a sack containing lbs. shillings and sometimes shillings, according to the supply and demand. some salt-pans do not give a sufficient deposit to pay the cost of collecting. there is a great sale for it throughout the country; but table-salt is supplied from england, as there has been no means of cleaning the native salt from the impurities it contains. the boers and natives use it. some of these salt-pans will yield in the season nearly nuids of lbs. each, and yet there appears to be no diminution in the supply, showing there must be extensive deposits beneath the pan beds. and so impregnated are some portions of these extensive grass plains that the grass that grows upon them is called the sour veldt, and other parts, where the surface-soil has been washed down from a higher level and deposited on the flats, is called the sweet veldt. the sour veldt is easily distinguishable by the white coating on the ground, which the oxen lick when they want salt. i always kept my oxen in good condition by giving them salt, once or twice a week, from a supply kept in the waggon for them, and it is a great preventative also against that common sickness the lungsick, which is very fatal to oxen all through south africa. there are several salt and brack-pans in the northern division of the republic, but the most numerous and the largest are to the south of new scotland. lake cressie is the most extensive, in shape something like a horse-shoe, and nearly twenty miles round, lying in an open grass country with few bushes. the water in it is permanent, and cannot be very brackish, as a hippopotamus has been known to live in it since it was first discovered. the road from lydenburg to wakkerstroom passes on the east side of the head of lake cressie, where there is a store, and a more desolate-looking country to pass through is rarely to be found. but barber's pan is the most picturesque of all i have visited; this also forms a kind of horse-shoe in shape. the outer banks are high on the west, with bush and trees; the inner side is much lower, and thick bush, and was always a favourite place for outspanning, and remaining a few days for duck-shooting--and also the black and white geese, being a secluded spot, seldom visited by the white or black man. game as well as birds could always be obtained, and plenty of wolves also. in circumference it must be some fifteen miles. a few miles to the north-east is another extensive pan, long but narrow. they both hold water all the year round, as they are deep. at wolverfontein, where mr. john dunn has a pleasant farm situated near the eye of the moi river, upon which potchefstroom is built, i visited the limestone cave, which mr. dunn pointed out to me. this cave passes underground for several hundred yards, and terminates at an underground river, which flows to the north-east in a great stream, and is supposed to come out at the eye of the moi river, three miles away. close to the cave, in the high lime formation of a light-brown colour, the rock is composed of one-half bones, teeth, entire jaws with the teeth in them, belonging to some large animal, mixed with quartz rock. it is a strange fact to find quartz so intimately mixed up with this limestone and bones. i collected several fine specimens of bone imbedded in this quartz and limestone mixture. one of the specimens of part of a jaw i measured _in situ_. the bone, in which the teeth were perfect, measured twelve inches, perfectly straight, sharply pointed at both ends, and one and a quarter inch in the broadest part; the shape being exactly like a canoe or some of the fast river-skiffs. a single row of eight teeth down the middle, two of the centre ones being the largest, nearly an inch square; the other three on each side were smaller, until the two end ones measured a third of an inch square; they may have belonged to a ruminant animal. the peculiar form of the bone the teeth were fixed in i thought singular. i procured four similar specimens, two of the same size, and two smaller, with several other pieces of rock, half limestone, half quartz, in which are many perfect specimens of teeth and bone. over this interesting deposit there is a large wood with limestones cropping up above the soil. upon one of them i saw several loose egg-shaped stones, and others perfectly round, the size of a sparrow's egg, lying on the ground close to the rock. on stopping to pick them up i found the stone full of them, some half buried, others only holding by a small part of the ball fixed to the rock. thinking it a very interesting specimen i went to my waggon for a hammer, and secured one of the projecting parts of the rock that had some of these balls imbedded in it, and a dozen of the loose balls, which have been carefully preserved to be examined by a geologist when time will permit, to ascertain if this singular formation is limestone or not, as every portion of this limestone formation is black except where the bones are found, and there it is of a light-brown colour. it is also found in all the dark rocks in the same locality. extensive tracts of country in south central africa have similar rocks containing crystallised globules, which when broken are hollow, which leads me to suppose this rock is not a limestone formation. dr. lyle, the geologist, at pretoria, examined the rock with bones in it, and pronounced it a kind of lava impregnated with lime from the bones. in the neighbourhood of lydenburg, to the north, are many extensive caves, some extending for nearly a mile underground, that have been formed by the small stream of water that flows through most of them, with beautiful stalactite hanging from their roofs and sides. a short distance to the west of these were the strongholds of the chiefs secoeme and mampoer. these mountains are completely riddled with caves, and are places of great strength, and surrounded by many kaffir kraals, under several petty chiefs. the most noted are magali, manpartella, secocoene, matebe, maselaroon (queen), mapok, mamalube, umsoet, moripi, umlindola, majaje (queen), maffafare, mayaya, and others, numbering many thousands in all. during the secocoene war, in , i was through that country, travelling up from pretoria with a detachment of the th regiment, and visited the magnet heights, a range of hills composed entirely of loadstone of highly magnetic power. it is about forty miles to the north-west of lydenburg. the area of the present lydenburg gold-fields may be included within a radius of miles from that town, and contains some of the most magnificent scenery in africa. within it are the hot springs, six in number. they are situated among rocks, and close to them is one cold spring; they are becoming known as having very healing properties. the komati river passing between beautiful mountains is most picturesque, and on the north the waterfall river and other streams have lovely scenery, with the lofty mountains forming the background. a most charming effect is produced when the clouds are passing along their sides below their summits. it is a pity that a land so lovely and so rich in valuable minerals is not in better hands, where a firm government would be able to properly develop the country. there are at present a few thousand people living near the various diggings, but many say they are not succeeding. large sums of money have been expended in machinery, but few companies pay. before leaving the transvaal i wish to call attention again to the white bushmen, described in the early part of this work, which i omitted, viz. that they are only found in the mountain ranges on the west of the drakensberg, and in that mountain. they have never been found in the lowlands or in any other part of africa, and are distinct in form; that is, so remarkably thin, and their legs being more like sticks, without any appearance of a calf, pot-bellied to an enormous extent, with their spine curving in like a bow, and few exceed four feet in height; their colour is yellow white, quite as much so as europeans brought up in a tropical country. this leads me to conclude they are a separate and distinct race, unless they are part of a tribe that live in equatorial africa, called the akka or tikku-tikki race, under the king munsa, the pigmy race described by herodotus; but these appear to be of a much darker colour. when travellers state the age of any of these peculiar people it cannot be relied on, for i do not believe there is a black man in africa who knows his own age. i have seen some exhibited whose age is stated to be twenty; this is mere guess, for it is impossible to tell, when they have no notion themselves whether they are five or fifty. chapter nineteen. general remarks on the transvaal. the two main roads from the cape colony to the transvaal cross the orange river at hope town, and a few miles north of colesburg, both meeting at kimberley, the diamond-field centre. railways are open as far as kimberley. from kimberley to pretoria by road is miles. the country, the whole distance, is open, and most uninteresting; grass-lands the entire distance, broken here and there with small patches of low mimosa bush. the only portion of the distance less monotonous than the rest is the road that skirts the bank of the vaal river, as far as bloemhof, where the pretty wooded banks and broad river relieve the eye from the everlasting rolling plains seen in every direction. there was some pleasure in travelling these roads twenty years ago, as game being plentiful on the veldt, and wild-fowl of every kind in the rivers and pans, there was some excitement in looking out for a good dinner. at the present time i have travelled from pretoria to kimberley and never had occasion to take my gun or rifle out of my waggon. the face of the country is entirely changed, farms now occupy the land, and many villages are built, supporting a considerable population that depend greatly for support by supplying the several markets on the fields with their produce. in all my experience of african travelling, i never passed through a region less interesting for picturesque scenery than the greater part of griqualand west, and the southern portion of the transvaal, up as far north as lichtenburg and pretoria. but it is not so on the eastern border and northern division of the transvaal, where is fine mountain scenery and thickly wooded valleys, with the many rivers, the banks of which are clothed with thick vegetation, with timber of considerable size and variety covering the country in all directions. the pongolo forest near swaziland; the finely-wooded district of the lobombo mountains; the wild region north of lydenburg to the limpopo river, an extent of country some miles in length; and all to the north of the magalisberg range, where the forest is more dense, containing much valuable timber; right up to the northern boundary, separating this republic from the mashona or matabeleland by the magnificent limpopo river, a region extending miles in length; more particularly in the northern division, where the unbroken range of forest that covers each bank of this noble river for hundreds of miles on the right and on the left, where the abrupt and almost perpendicular mountains rear their lofty heads far up in the clouds, clothed with every kind of tropical tree. this gives one an idea of eternal spring, the foliage displaying a charming variety of every shade and hue, from the pale and silvery to the darkest green and copper-purple; much of it covered with a profusion of lovely lily-like flowers, others with crimson bloom, fruits and seeds, creeping plants climbing to the topmost branches, and falling down in graceful festoons to the ground, forming numerous ropes, which the many monkey tribes use to ascend and descend with remarkable speed. some of the giants of the forest--the noble baobab and others--blasted by storms and age, stand out in grim mockery of perpetual life, although they may number many thousand years, noble emblems of misfortune and decay. "the rheum of age from marlboro's eyes to flow, and swift expire a driveller and a show." in some of these african forests, so extensively covered with timber and beautiful underwood, where the white man's foot has seldom trod, it is natural to look for some rare specimen in animal or vegetable life. there is a charm in traversing these unknown forests that irresistibly draws the explorer on more into their recesses. the gloom pervades everything around, cut off from the bright sun above by the dense foliage, casting into shadow the gigantic boles of many trees that surround the traveller, giving a weird aspect to the scene, combined with the perfect silence that reigns around; for during the greater portion of the day, when the tropical sun is high, all nature is as it were dead, the birds retire into their homes, the wild animals crowd into some hidden nook and sleep, and everything is at rest, until the sun nears the western horizon, when one by one, both animals and birds begin to stir. a single antelope may be seen leisurely moving along, then two or three more; a jackal, a tiger-cat, or some other beast of prey makes a cautious advance among the bushes; the distant sound of branches being broken by elephants or giraffes; the twitter of many birds, and the shrill whistle of others calling to their mates, cooing of doves, and the tapping of the woodpecker on the decayed bark of trees seeking for insects beneath (which has a most peculiar effect upon the listener in the silent retreat), and as night advances, the roar of the lion, which startles all nature into silence, causes the intruder upon his preserves mechanically to look to his rifle to see all is right and fresh cartridge handy, for at any moment his proximity may be expected. it was on one of these evening rambles in the noble forest that i was an eye-witness to a very rare and singular sight, and which, i believe, few explorers have ever witnessed. wandering on where the openings in the bushes allowed free access between the thick vegetation, admiring the splendid picture of vegetable life, i caught the sound of loud, deep, bass voices not so very far away, which appeared to be coming nearer. as i was under one of those splendid baobab trees, quite in shadow, i determined to wait and find out the cause of such unearthly sounds. lying down on the grass, to be out of sight as much as possible, i waited with my rifle ready for action, if any animal should come disagreeably close. the sounds were continuous, and became louder every moment. at first i concluded there were several wolves fighting; then growls, similar to cats on the house-tops, but much louder; this continued for some twenty minutes. crawling round the tree on my knees, i discovered the cause. about seventy yards from where i was concealed were two lions, that is, a lion and a lioness, apparently in a very quarrelsome mood, as the lioness kept throwing back her ears and showing her teeth, at the same time pawing the lion in the face with her huge paws, and lashing out with her tail, the lion taking it very quietly, but growling as if remonstrating. all this time they were coming nearer, until they stopped some forty yards from my retreat; all was quiet--i intently watching them all the time--for some ten minutes longer, when the lioness gave a few cat-like spits, and bounded into the bush, and the lion quickly walked off in another direction. a hunter relates being once in a tree watching a lioness and a lion. another began roaring in the distance, when the lioness roared in reply, the lion trying to prevent her. but at last he began also, when the other lion appeared, and a terrible fight began, their strong bones cracking. at last the first lion was killed, and the lioness, with a whisk of her tail, went off with the last. "oh, you jade!" said the hunter. evening was now falling fast, and as the nights here close in soon after sundown, it was time to strike for my waggon, where i had outspanned on the banks of the river, at a very pretty bend, where i could get plenty of sea-cow and crocodile shooting. on my way home, which took twenty minutes to reach, many kinds of game crossed my path, and i managed to bag a fine silver jackal. the lion and lioness were not seen any more. my camp is yards from the river, where several openings in the trees give me many pretty glimpses of the stream and the opposite bank, which is, from this near side, some yards broad, with several sand-banks and rocks in mid-stream. lofty reeds grow thick and strong upon their sides, full of nests belonging to the yellow and red finch, as also the larger kind with long black tails that greatly impede their flight. birds of all sizes, and of many colours, with brilliant plumage, swarm along the banks; several kind of kingfisher, honey-birds (not much larger than hummingbirds, with their long curved bills, mostly found where flowers are plentiful), bitterns, pelicans, kaffir-cranes, flamingoes, geese, ducks, and other kind of water-fowl are seen in great numbers, and give plenty of occupation for rifle and shot-gun. the vultures, hawks, and eagles are daily seen on the wing. we stumble on snakes at every turn of the forest and along the river-bank. the python has been killed on the limpopo, the natives tell me, longer than my waggon, which is sixteen feet, and some say that there are others that have been seen double that length. about a mile below this camp i came upon their spoor, in the long grass, and from the beaten path they made, over two feet in width, there must be many of these monsters about. we have been out several times at night to look for them. the largest snake i shot, next to the python, was when walking along a bank of sand, where there were several large holes. he was moving in the grass a short distance from me, a most vicious-looking reptile, quite black, and measuring nearly thirteen feet; there are others nearly as large in the kalahara desert. i have killed many puffadders, but none exceeded in length three feet six inches. the long, thin yellow snake is mostly found in trees, after birds; they stretch themselves along the branches, and look like a portion of them. those i have killed measured nearly five feet. when the little birds see them they fly round and near, making a great noise. i was walking along a river-bank that had several snake-holes in it; a short distance ahead was a small bird fluttering about in one spot. standing to watch it for some time, and finding it still kept on in the same way, i walked up almost close to it, when i saw the head of a large snake sticking out of a hole; but on my making ready to fire he retreated into it, and the bird flew away. this was the first time i had seen a snake charm a bird. the variety i have killed may be called legion. of several the names are unknown. the iguana grows to a large size in these rivers; i have only seen the black one in this district. my boys killed one measuring five feet seven inches; they cooked and dished him up for their supper, and told me it was very good. the hedgehog, ant-bear, and armadillo are plentiful, as also many kinds of earth-animals, generally found in the more open parts. but the most disgusting thing, and which i have a horror of, are those tree-toads. some trees seem to swarm with them; they fix themselves in the fork of a branch, and remain quite still all day, and at night they chirp like a bird--it may be called the singing-tree, i suppose the same kind mentioned in `pilgrim's progress'--their colour so resembles the bark that it is difficult to distinguish them from it. i have stated in a former chapter that several dropped into my waggon when on my way up to matabeleland. early the next morning, after my lion adventure, i prepared for a day's shooting up-river, ready for any and everything that came within range of our rifles. my driver and a cape boy, both very good shots, and myself with shot-gun, after an early breakfast, started soon after sun-up along the right bank of the river. we had not proceeded many hundred yards before a large flock of guinea-fowl flew up, when both barrels brought down five. this was a good beginning; they were sent back to the camp at once. it is no use pursuing these birds when they have been disturbed, they run like a race-horse, and keep to the ground. if you have a good dog to chase them they are compelled to find shelter in the trees, when they can be shot. my last dog was bitten by a puffadder and died. continuing along the bank for some little distance i came upon a deep pool in the river, where we could distinguish, just out of the water, part of the head of a large hippopotamus; but as we neared him to get a shot he prudently sank. on the opposite bank two half-grown crocodiles were enjoying the morning's sun, and they also thought it desirable to clear for the water, but not before one of them received a bullet in the side, which made him turn and twist about, lashing his tail as he made for the water, where we lost sight of him. the river was too wide and deep, and too dangerous for any of us to cross, to attempt to follow him up; but we saw by his motion in the water he must have received a mortal wound. the river appeared about yards wide, with thickly wooded banks, and fine timber trees. as we were watching his movements, several ducks flew past down stream; two i shot, but they fell in the water, and no one dare go in to get them, as our friends the sea-cows and crocodiles might lie there. consequently, we left them floating on the water, but had not moved many paces away before they had disappeared, a dainty morsel for one of these monsters. as we advanced along the bank we became aware that large game occupied the other side of the river. the dense forest prevented our seeing them, but there was no mistaking the sounds. elephants were near, by the breaking of branches and the constant rumbling sound of their bowels. the river was too deep and dangerous to cross, therefore i had no choice left but to remain quiet and concealed in the shadow of the beautiful trees, the branches of which overhung the river. we knew they were approaching the river to drink. after waiting some twenty minutes, one by one they pushed themselves through the undergrowth that lined the steep bank, and made for the water, standing in a row close together, sucking up with their trunks the water into their immense throats, an operation that looks ridiculous, a sight seldom to be seen in daylight. to have fired upon them would have been cruel, as there was no possibility of getting their tusks even if we had killed them; we therefore watched with intense interest this interesting sight. after satisfying their thirst, they walked into the river until they were half submerged, throwing water over their backs, and flapping their immense ears against their sides, making a peculiar noise, evidently enjoying the bath immensely, pawing the water with their huge legs; and then returned to the forest, to browse on the young and tender branches of their favourite trees. there were thirty-seven full-grown, and eleven young ones of various sizes. it was with difficulty i could restrain my boys from giving them a shot. to see elephants, the largest of all animals, in their native wilds roaming undisturbed, and note their habits and actions, is most interesting. these gigantic animals care very little for crocodiles or hippopotami; but the rhinoceros often kills them. their long legs, being six feet in length, and nearly three feet round, are very formidable when used in their own defence, either on land or water, without the aid of their five feet of tusks. at the present time these splendid animals are never seen in these parts, where formerly they were so plentiful. mr. john viljoen, the boer who came north after the bloomplaats fight in , thirty-seven years ago, and settled in marico, told me that the whole of that district swarmed with elephants and every other kind of large game, as also in the neighbourhood of rustenburg, pretoria, and other localities more south; now they are seldom seen south of the limpopo, except in the country to the east, under the chief umzela. in the trees on the opposite shore, and in the forest behind us, large grey monkeys, with black faces, were busy watching us. there appeared to be hundreds, and as they swung from branch to branch, with the young ones following their mothers, they made the forest look lively. they travel on the tops of the trees faster than you can run below. as it was now getting on towards noon we pushed on up-stream, making excellent bags of guinea-fowls, pheasants, and ducks. in addition to this dainty food, my boys shot a quagga, which the black man prefers to any other game. it was now time to return, being pretty well loaded with provisions to last several days; but what avails that with a hunter, when surrounded by so many tempting opportunities of having a shot at animals or large reptiles, never to be met with out of these primeval forests? we wanted sjamboks, so much sought after by the colonists; the best are made from the skin of the hippopotamus, so we must bag some, if possible, before we left this fine and undisturbed hunting-ground. we therefore searched the river carefully on our way back, directing the kaffirs to peer into every nook and corner of the pools, and at last were rewarded by discovering a fine, large sea-cow moving about in long reeds in a small sand-island, only separated from the bank by some twenty yards of shallow water. this was a splendid chance not to be thrown away, as he was quietly feeding, unobservant of our presence. we took advantage of his turning towards us, and gave him three shots in the head, one entering the brain, and he fell without apparently a struggle; a most fortunate and lucky capture, as he was on a bank just above the water, where we could take his skin and tusks without any trouble. slipping off my boots and socks, i tucked up my trousers, and was soon at the beast's side. it occupied us the remainder of the day, until sundown, to take the skin, which was no easy task, and even then we did not secure the whole; only taking the best part, suitable for the renowned sjambok, and several pieces of the flesh, as it is excellent eating, similar to pork. it was now a puzzle how to get all to the waggon, being nearly a mile from it. i therefore determined to send all my three kaffirs with as much as they could carry to the camp, and return with some empty sacks for the remainder, while i remained on guard. it was some time before they returned, the sun had long gone under, but the bright starlight night enabled me to see distinctly some distance round. during their absence i enjoyed the perfect silence that pervaded everything, except occasionally the splashes in the water by crocodiles at play, or in their rush after fish, and the blows of the hippopotamus as it came up from the deep water. not a breath of air stirred, or a leaf moved. numerous fire-flies added a charm to the scene, for they are most brilliant, and even give light enough when caught and held near a book, in the darkest night, to read distinctly. many glow-worms, of which there are legions here, will also give light to read from. we now set to work to cut up more of the sea-cow's flesh, and after well loading all hands, started for the waggon, where we arrived about eleven o'clock in the evening, after a hard and an exciting day's work. lions we heard from both sides of the river as we made for camp; also wolves and jackals, with the plunges in the water from the sea-cows, as we disturbed them in passing, where they were feeding along the bank, kept us on the alert from a surprise. from a long and isolated life in the wilds of africa how sensitive the hearing becomes to sounds of every kind, and the different calls or notes of birds or beasts, if danger is near! birds will give warning much quicker than animals, from their being able to see a greater distance from the branches of the trees. animals know the birds' call of danger, as also do birds that of animals. the plover is the most annoying to a hunter, as they are persistent in following him up, giving the note of alarm. i have endeavoured to hide myself away many times from them; but they are not to be baffled in this way, but come flying round the bushes, prying everywhere, until you are discovered, and with renewed vigour they strike up their alarm-notes, making the game fly before you in every direction. once let these birds fix their attention on a hunter, he must either shoot them, or give up hope of a good day's sport. the boy in charge of the waggon during the day informed me that a little before sundown nearly a hundred head of game had passed down the river, close to the waggon, but cleared when they discovered the camp. they were, from his description, the rooi or red antelope, the size of our fallow-deer. we left this camping-ground the next day, and as there were no roads, had some difficulty in pushing our way through the forest, to avoid the tent of the waggon being smashed by the low branches of the trees. after proceeding some few miles we came upon the remains of a quagga that had evidently been killed and eaten by the lions the previous night, as their spoor on the sand was very fresh. we therefore hastened our departure to get clear of the dense bush before night, and after two inspans arrived at an open space close to a small brook of running water, where we fixed our camp for the night. the weather is delightful, almost perfect; perpetual sun, which becomes monotonous when there is so much of it, scarcely sufficient wind to stir the leaves of the trees, the heat most agreeable, only degrees in the shade at mid-day. after making all fast we prepared for supper: a guinea-fowl for myself, and quagga steaks for my boys, and then to bed at p.m. during the night jackals and wolves annoyed us; lions we heard at a distance, but sufficiently near to cause us to keep a watchful guard in case they felt disposed to make an attack on our oxen. these grand old forest regions of africa are full of interest, more particularly at the present season, when animal and vegetable life are springing into existence. spring has far advanced, and summer is coming on apace. the birds are filling the woods with their notes,--although they do not sing they make the air ring with calls of many sounds, teaching their young to fly; the mocking-bird being the most persistent in keeping up his incessant chatter. the grey cockatoo, with his beautiful crest, is determined to make himself heard amidst the din of sounds; but of all the african birds i love, the best is the gentle ringdove; his welcome cooing notes have cheered my heart in many a weary day's trek over a dry and parched-up region, where days have been passed without tasting a drop of water, when the notes of the ringdove have caught my ear, telling me water is near, for they are well known never to be far from it, which in every such case has been true. the croaking of frogs also is a welcome sound, for they never enlighten the air with their notes when the water has dried-up. crickets and many other insects make the air ring with their chirps when water is plentiful. a traveller, when roaming through this wild region, soon becomes acquainted with all forest sounds, and in many cases from necessity, when passing through a country where for six or eight months of the year rain never falls, not even dew, to moisten the atmosphere. during this dry time few insects are seen, but in the rainy season they swarm, and birds are scarce far from water; but along all the river-banks some with most beautiful plumage are to be seen, and many other kinds. gorgeous flowers are not wanting to add beauty to the forest scenery, and a traveller must indeed be callous to all that is beautiful in nature who can traverse these woodland regions unobservant of their beauties. the charm lies not only in the magnificence of the scene around, beautiful as it is made by the creator for man's enjoyment, but it is also the book of nature, where man may learn wisdom away from the busy world. however much we may like the society of our fellow-man, there are times when it is very refreshing to be alone to think, particularly when surrounded by scenery rarely to be found out of these splendid old forests, where nature has been so bountiful in clothing the earth with such pleasant objects to look upon. i love the woods and their surroundings, where the mighty baobab, the king of the forest, reigns supreme above all other trees, whose age exceeds years, and is yet full of life and vigour--born a thousand years before the great pyramids of egypt were even thought of--a living monument of the vitality of nature. mighty nations have grown, flourished, and passed away into oblivion, since these vegetable monuments first took root, where they now stand and flourish, fit emblems of man's littleness. we pace the galleries of our museums and look with admiration on those monuments brought from nineveh, babylon, greece, rome, and egypt, which speak of the past history of the world, but not one of which can date as far back as these living trees, that had life before these nations had an existence. can we then pass these grand old trees with indifference, or look upon their huge trunks--which measure over feet in circumference--without emotion, the branches of which at mid-day would shelter from the sun a regiment of soldiers? but these are not the only trees that grace the primeval forests of africa; there are many varieties, dating back many thousand years from their birth, that are grand objects in the landscape, and complete a picture of forest scenery that few can realise who have not visited these ancient and glorious old forests, which, if they could speak, could tell wondrous tales of scenes unknown to man. chapter twenty. south central africa--its territorial divisions and boundaries. the river system and their basins. this extensive region is bounded on the south by the cape colony and the orange free states; the orange river by the former, and the vaal river from the fountain-head down to where it enters the orange, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, by the latter state, with the exception of a portion of griqualand west, which extends beyond those two rivers, and forms part of the above region. the orange enters the south atlantic in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, and up to the junction of the vaal is the boundary of the cape colony and south central africa, which extends northwards up to the basin of the congo, a distance of miles, and in width, from the south atlantic to the indian ocean, in the northern part miles, the extreme south miles, an area of over , , square miles, divided into divisions or territories, ruled over by independent chiefs, and will be dealt with under their respective heads. great namaqua and damaralands embrace the whole of the west coast-line, from the orange river northwards to the qunene river, the boundary of the portuguese settlement of benguela and angola, a coast-line of miles. the remaining portion by the portuguese settlement, the eastern coast, extends from the south side of delagoa bay, and the southern extremity of the portuguese settlement, to the mouth of the zambese river, on to quilimain, a portuguese port on the north, a distance of coast-line of miles, up to the boundary of the congo confederation. this vast area is divided into three separate watersheds, the most important one divides the waters of the south atlantic from the indian ocean. this watershed commences at the extreme southern point on the drakensberg mountain in natal, , feet in altitude, following that range round to new scotland, feet in altitude, in the transvaal, then turns west, along the high veldt between potchefstroom and pretoria, feet, to the north of lichtenburg, a town in the same state, feet, then in a north-west direction through a portion of bechuanaland, the kalahara desert, to ovampoland, in altitude, on to benguela, the portuguese settlement on the west coast. all on the west of this shed the country is drained by the orange and vaal rivers and their tributaries, and the swakop and other small streams in damaraland, into the south atlantic ocean. the second watershed commences on the high land, feet in altitude, half-way through the desert, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, takes a north-east direction, passing on the east side of the great brak vlei makarakara, along the granite range of the molopo in matabeleland, on to the lobolo mountain, feet in altitude, near the zambese river, miles from its mouth. the above river and its tributaries drain the country on the north of this watershed, and is called the zambese basin; on the south side it is drained by the limpopo river and its tributaries, called the limpopo basin; both rivers discharge themselves into the indian ocean. these three large rivers, the orange, zambese, and limpopo, with their branches, with the exception of a small portion of great namaqua and damaralands on the west coast, and also part of umzela's territory and the transvaal by delagoa bay on the east coast, drain nearly , , square miles of south central africa. the orange, south of the above region, with its tributaries, drain the orange free state, and part of the cape colony, to the extent of , square miles in addition. each of these river systems i propose to describe, as they form the principal geographical features, previous to going more into the detail of the several territories ruled over by independent chiefs. the zambese system, covering an area of , square miles. the entire length of this river, from the fountain-head to its mouth in the indian ocean, south of mozambique, is miles. the small lake dilolo, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, situated in the lololala region, and within a few miles of the upper springs of the kuana, a branch of the congo; and from thence falls south and south-east, through lui banda, barotsi, makololo, banyeti, and other tribes, with its many branches, to the victoria falls, and then on to the sea in an easterly direction. the other important tributaries, taking their rise in the region west of the above, are the chobe, quito, cubango or okavango, and many branches in the country of the kimbandi and bunda; the source of the cubango or okavango is but a short distance from the upper springs of the river quanza, that passes through angola to the south atlantic, and belongs to the portuguese. the chobe takes a winding course south, through a level and swampy country, full of jungle, past a kaffir kraal, matambaya, to within seventy miles to the west of linyanti; past that chief's kraal, in an easterly and north-easterly direction, it enters the zambese thirty-seven miles above the victoria falls. the chobe is a large and broad river with several rapids. there are many streams and laagte which intersect this extensive and swampy region. it is a most unhealthy and sickly country, whence it has obtained the name of the fever district. the cubango river: the source of this river also flows south degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, the altitude was feet above sea-level; from that station the river runs in a south-east direction for fifty-five miles to libebe kraal, then in an easterly course winding through the desert for sixty-five miles to debabe's kraal, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. thirty miles below my station the river quito joins, which forms a broad and fine stream. at debabe's the river turns south-south-east, and receives a new name, the tonga; one portion flowing into the chobe; the other continuing, with many turns and windings, for miles, finally entering the north-west corner of lake n'gami at an altitude of feet, receiving in its course the laagte okayanka that rises in ovarapoland at chambomba vlei, feet above sea-level, flowing east, and enters the tonga miles below debabe town, where the country is full of swamps, with outlets into the mababe river. lake n'gami is forty-five miles long when full, and about ten miles in width, very shallow, and is getting less every year. the western end is in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. there are several small streams which flow into it in the rainy season. on the eastern side the zouga river joins it, sometimes flowing into it, and sometimes out; the direction of the current depending on the rainfall. the zouga, from the lake, winds easterly through a flat country for eighty miles, then turns south for miles to kumadua vlei, and then north-east for sixty miles, and joins the great makarakara brak vlei, which is nearly fifty miles across, where five streams enter it on the eastern side from the watershed that passes through the matabeleland, viz. the nata, quabela, shuari, mia, and tua. the zouga river having such a perfect level, the water in april and may flows easterly, in june and july westerly. the only outlet for the surplus water of the zouga, lake, and vlei, is the mababe into the chobe; and when all are full, and no stream flowing, the water in the mababe goes north or south according to the rain. if a great rush of water comes out of the lake or vlei, the mababe is the outlet which connects the lake system with the zambese, and the hippopotami find their way up from the latter river into the zouga. the length of the mababe from these two points is miles, but there are several watercourses throughout this region, more particularly round the hilly district of ngwa hills, traversing the country in all directions; pans and vleis intersect this extensive district, many of them extensive--the sira and etwetwe are considerable. the tributaries to the east of the victoria falls to the coast comprise the following:--daka, zimboya, gwaii with its many branches, sebuana, lohala, sinyaki, lozenza, banyeka, panyama, zingisi, nake, luenya, landeen, sankatsi, zangwe; all of them take their rise in the watershed of the molopo and lobolo mountains. the principal known tributaries on the north of the zambese are the shire, which enters it ninety miles from the mouth--it is a broad and extensive river, being the outlet to the waters of the lake shirwa--the kewubue, loangwa, kafue, majecla, luamba, and many intervening branches not yet sufficiently surveyed. this comprises the zambese basin, the most valuable and important region in south central africa. the limpopo river basin, covering an area of , square miles. this river, from the fountain-head to its mouth, where it enters the indian ocean, eighty miles up the coast from delagoa bay, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, is miles in length. its configuration is nearly three parts of a circle. the chief fountains rise south of pretoria in the transvaal, on the watershed between potchefstroom and pretoria, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, taking a north-north-west course for miles, then turns north-east, and then easterly for miles, and then in a south-south-east direction for miles over a flat country to the ocean. the principal tributaries on the west and north are the eland, great marico, notuane, makalapsie, setuane, serube, pakwe, maclutsie, shasha, makhae, kubie, and the nuanettie, and their several branches, which drain the country on the eastern side of the two watersheds. the great marico, with its branches of little marico and molmane, drains a considerable extent of country in the marico and molmane district, and a large portion of bechuanaland under the chiefs gaseitsive, sechele, makose, and lindsey. the remainder pass through the chief khama's country, and the mashona country under the matabele king, lo-bengulu. the eastern branches all rise in the transvaal as under:--the apies passes by pretoria, pienaar, matlabas sand, palala, magalaquen, hout, lovolo, and the olifants river with its many branches. their fountains rise on the north side of the watershed, which passes east. the other rivers are the manica, with its three principal branches, the sabie, crocodile, and umcomati, that partly drain the lydenburg gold-fields; the umbolosi and the maputa, with two main branches, the uzutu and pongola, that fall into delagoa bay. the eastern coast-line, north of the limpopo, drains the territory under the chief umzela; the two principals are the sabie or sabia, which rises in the northern watershed at sakaloto kraal, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, at an altitude of feet above sea-level, and the buzi river, which supplies umzela's kraal, and both rivers enter the indian ocean in sofala bay. these rivers complete the limpopo basin, which drains the northern portion of the transvaal, the portuguese settlement, in addition to those already named. the orange and vaal river system, and the ancient river system of the kalahara desert, covering an area of , square miles. the only portion of the orange river which forms the south boundary of south central africa is that part from its mouth to the junction of the vaal. the orange above that junction turns south-east, and from ramah, which is the point where the boundary between griqualand west and the orange free state join, the river is the northern boundary of the cape colony up to basutoland, where the head-fountains rise in the mountain regions of that territory, and it is the boundary of natal near giant's castle, at an altitude of , feet above sea-level. the caledon forms one of its tributaries, draining a portion of the orange free state. the vaal river, which forms the south-east boundary of south central africa, rises in the quathlamba mountain--a beautiful range of hills on the eastern division of the transvaal, now called new scotland--and wakkerstroom district, and from klip staple, an isolated hill, feet in altitude above sea-level, also from lake cressie, a large sheet of water at an elevation of feet. rensberg, a part of the quathlamba, is , and in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. from this point the river flows south-west, seventy miles, to standerton, a town in the transvaal, and on the main transport road from natal to pretoria, passing through an open country, receiving in its course many small feeders. from that town the river takes a winding course west for miles, down to where the moi river, upon which potchefstroom is built, joins it; on the northern bank several small streams flow into it that rise in the watershed, running from klip staple westerly to lichtenburg, the altitude averaging feet. the principal are bushman, kalk, and rand. heidelburg is situated on the latter, between the kalk and rand. on the south bank the river wolga is one of the upper tributaries, rising in the drakensberg above harrysmith in the orange free state. it is an important stream draining a large extent of country. from the moi river the vaal flows south-west, with many bends and turns, for miles, to the town of barkly in griqualand west, where the altitude is feet, and degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. between these two points there are several spruits falling into it from the north, and rising on the south slope of the watershed. the most noted are scoon, rising in the dwaasberg, a gold-bearing district, on which are situated the towns of fenterdrop and klarksdorp; klip, maquassie, and bamber spruits. the other towns between klarksdorp and barkly are bloemhof, christiana, and hebron, situated on its banks, the latter being the first town built on the river diggings after diamonds were discovered. the rivers on the south side drain the orange free state: the principal are the rhinoster, valsch, and vet. the vaal from standerton down to barkly, and beyond to its junction with the orange, is very picturesque, well-wooded with fine timber, and bush on its banks, which are steep--the water has been known to rise forty feet without flooding its banks--many islands, with their rich foliage, particularly in the autumn, in april and may, when the lovely tints give great beauty to the river. kimberley, the diamond centre, is twenty-five miles south-east from barkly on the south side of the river. from barkly the river flows for twenty-five miles in a north-westerly course, where the harts river joins it. in this distance there were, and are now, several diamond-diggings, viz. pniel, opposite barkly, waldick's plant, good hope, gong gong, kesi kamma, and others. the harts river rises in the transvaal at two large fountains, with vleis at lichtenburg, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, at an altitude of feet above sea-level, passing down south-west for miles, enters the vaal at lekatlong kaffir station, and also a mission station of the london mission society, passing through, in its winding course, an open grass country. on and near its banks are the native kraals maamuosa, taung, and phokwane, as also boetsap in griqualand west. from the junction of the harts to the junction of the orange the vaal flows south-west for sixty miles, through a hilly country, particularly at what is called the "poort," where the river enters a mountain district, and for seven miles the scenery is grand and wild, to within a short distance of siffonel kraal, where formerly the chief siffonello lived, and after it became a diamond-digging camp. at the junction of the orange and vaal the two rivers form a broad sheet of water, well-wooded on both banks, which is now the orange, and flows west by south for eighty miles, through a hilly country, to the great bend near prieska, which is on the colonial side of the river, then turns north-west for miles, winding between lofty and rugged mountain scenery, with broad belts of wood on both banks, to a griqua town, where klaas lucus lives, passing bultfontein and kheis, a korunna village, and the extreme western boundary of griqualand west. from klaas lucus the orange flows in a westerly direction, with many extensive bends, for miles, where it enters the south atlantic ocean, degrees minutes south latitude, degrees degrees east longitude. at kakaman's drift, thirty miles below the bend at klaas lucus, the ancient river hygap enters it, which is the main stream that carries off the waters from the kalahara desert, being the only outlet of the river system of that extensive region. at the junction of these two rivers a korunna chief, puffadder, had his head kraal--fifteen years ago. the river from this point is very beautiful and grand; noble and lofty hills flank it on both sides. many hundred islands, with dense bush, add immensely to the beauty of the country. between the hygap and the south atlantic ocean there are four rivers that drain the south kalahara, the nisbit, aamo, keikab, and the great fish river; the three former rise on the south side of the brinus mountain, the latter is a large and extensive tributary of the orange, being over miles in length, rising in damaraland in degrees minutes south latitude, flowing south through the desert, receiving in its course, on the western bank, many branches that rise in the mountain region of great namaqualand, the most important being the amhup, koros, huntop, chun, oip, and manobis, and enters the orange river about ninety miles from its mouth. the total length of the orange to the vaal, and up that river to lake cressie, is miles. there are several cataracts and rapids on both the orange and the vaal, with long stretches of smooth water. the most extensive cataract is aukrabies, below kakaman's drift, where there is a foil of nearly ninety feet. the ancient river system of the kalahara desert, of which the hygap is the outlet into the orange, requires care to properly describe the peculiar formation of the several watercourses that intersect that extensive region, and from the magnitude of some of them show that at some remote period they were vast flowing rivers, whereas at the present time water is seldom seen in them. the upper or more northern fountains rise in ovampoland, at an altitude of feet near the omareru river, distant from the orange river at the junction of the hygap nearly miles; miles below the upper fountain of this river the elevation is feet; miles to the south of this, at the junction of the nosop river, the altitude is feet; and miles following the course of the nosop down south to the junction of the molapo, along that river to the junction of the kuruman river, the height is feet, which river receives the name of the hygap; and miles following that river due south to the junction of the orange, the altitude is feet,--consequently there is a fall of feet from the fountains in ovampoland to the orange river. the black and white nosops join in the desert, forty miles to the east of rhinoster vlei. they both rise on the eastern boundary of damaraland, having many feeders from the mountain range feet above sea-level, flowing south and east to narukus, where the elephant river joins it, receiving its waters from the limestone peak, feet in altitude. twenty miles below narukus the river is called the oup, which meanders in a south-east and south direction, and falls into the molapo, twenty-four miles below the junction of that river and the nosop. the distance of the upper springs of the black and white nosop to the molapo is nearly miles. twenty miles below narukus the nosop separates from the oup, and continues more to the east, which has already been described. forty miles to the west of the junction of the oup and kuruman rivers is a large vlei, thirty-two miles in length, called hogskin vlei, and in places from two to three miles broad. this vlei receives three small rivers, the knaas, snake, and moi; their fountain-heads are in the hill district on the west, covered with bush and rugged in form. the country is very pretty and picturesque, with fine kameel-doorn trees, prickly thorns, and mimosa trees. on the east of this large vlei is an extensive salt-pan, but not used, as there are no inhabitants except bushmen and korannas. to the south is the back river, which rises in those beautiful mountains known as the brinus hills; from the topmost springs it flows in two directions, one to the great fish river, the other eastward past liefdote, tobas, and klopper vlei, turns south-east, and enters the hygap sixty miles above the orange river, and seventeen miles below swaart-modder, where i built a stone house under the hanging cliff, in the dry bed of the hygap. the other two rivers that complete this ancient river system are the molapo or mafeking, and the kuruman. the former rises on the central watershed in the district of molapo in montsioa's territory. the eye of this river is situated degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, in a lovely wooded glen, feet above sea-level, and only ten miles from the main eye of the molmane river that falls into the limpopo basin; the watershed passing across the desert divides the two. from this fountain the molapo turns westerly, passing melemas and macebe's kraals, continuing in the same direction for miles, joins the nosop above described, and forms the main stream of which the hygap is a continuation. the setlakooly and moretsane are the only branches of any size that drain the country in that long distance. the kuruman river rises south of the mission station of that name, flows west and enters the hygap a few miles below the junction of the oup, passing through a wild and broken country the last ninety miles of its course. the hygap river from this point to the orange is a broad and deep river, and from the lofty and perpendicular sandstone rocks, reaching in many places feet in height at the bends, where the current acted upon them in its course down, it is evident that at a remote period it was a river of some magnitude; the force of water in many places has undermined the base of the cliffs, forming caves, that have been used by the early inhabitants as dwelling-places, and in one of which i erected a stone front to live in for a time when in that region many years ago. at the fountain-heads of many of these desert rivers the springs are very powerful, but the water does not continue for any great distance above the sand in their beds, but sinks and percolates through the sand until it reaches the orange river. knowing this, i had very little difficulty in procuring water by digging a few feet into their beds, the sand in many places filling up the original beds eight to ten feet in depth. the water when procured was clear and cool. there are several rivers on the west coast that drain damaraland, the country being so dry that rarely any water is found in them near the coast; swakop is the most important, the mouth being in walfish bay, as also the kuisip river, south of swakop, which enters the south side of the above bay. the rivers on the north are omaruru, ugab, hubb. the northern boundary of damaraland, the cunene river, separates the portuguese settlement, benguela. and in great namaqualand is the little orange river which rises on the west slope of the mountain range, and enters the south atlantic near angra peguena island, lately annexed by germany, which completes the orange and vaal basin in south central africa. the rivers or branches of the south side of the orange, which drain a large portion of the cape colony and little namaqualand west of the junction of the vaal river, are the ongar, which enters the orange near prieska, hartebeest or vish river, pillans, and some small streams of no note. the country which these rivers pass through is wild and very hilly. chapter twenty one. the region north of the transvaal under lo-bengulu, the matabele king. its physical geography and notes on my explanations. within the limpopo basin. this region is commonly known as matabeleland, maahona, and makalaka country. it extends from the limpopo river northwards to the zambese river. the western boundary joins up to the bechuanaland occupied by the chief khama, and on the east by the territory belonging to the chief umzela. the extent from north to south is miles, and from east to west geographical miles. the mountain range, molopo, traverses it the whole length in a diagonal direction, from the north-east corner down to the south-west, which forms the watershed dividing the zambese from the limpopo basin, the northern portion of this kingdom being in the former, and the southern in the latter. the tributaries of the limpopo take their rise from this watershed, all of them, without exception, flowing through a beautiful and well-wooded country, containing some of the most magnificent and valuable timber to be found in africa: mahogany, ebony, and other useful woods suitable for building purposes and other work. the principal names of these rivers are the shasha, being the southern, between the chief khama and lo-bengulu, the tati, ramakaban, mpakwe, meksine, rubi, and nuanettie. the whole country drained by these rivers is granite, with lofty and picturesque hills covered with tropical vegetation of many flowering shrubs and trees, with the brilliant flowers everywhere peeping out between massive granite rocks, lying one upon another for several hundred feet in most grotesque forms. this gives to the landscape a peculiar and novel appearance, quite different from anything seen in the south. many of the spurs of the molopo range are free from bush, where the native cattle find fine grazing-land, and the gigantic baobab, palms, euphorbias, aloes of many kinds with their crimson flowers, and other tropical trees skirt the hills and mountain streams. the fallen masses of rock from the pyramidal-shaped hills strew the ground at their base, and give a peculiar and strange feature to the scenery around. this country gradually descends towards the south and east, until it reaches the limpopo river, interrupted by many isolated hills and mountain ranges, thickly wooded; the most inaccessible points being selected by the mashona natives for their kraals, to be secure from surprise by the matabele warriors. the population of the eastern division of the mashona country is mostly composed of the mashona tribe that occupied this region previous to the invasion of the dreaded zulu chief moselikatze, about the year , when he advanced north with his army of wild zulus, and took possession of all the country which is now included in the matabele kingdom. there are also several other tribes living in this district, the most numerous being the makalakas, bakalahara, and the mesere bushmen, and many of the banyai, makloes, makatse, and mantatees, that have crossed the limpopo from the transvaal. the tati gold-fields occupy the western border on the north bank of the tati river, which were first discovered by mr. h. hartly, the well known and highly-respected elephant-hunter from the interior, in , which soon became known, and a number of diggers from australia and other parts came flocking to the scene. amongst the number was sir john swinburne. a company was formed, and after spending much money in machinery and other works, it was abandoned, sufficient gold not being found to pay expenses. the stores and works fell into ruin, and the last of the powerful engines, weighing several tons, was washed down the river nearly two miles, and deposited on the bank some twenty feet above the river-bed, where i saw it when returning from matabeleland in . the fact of the flood-waters carrying down such a huge and heavy mass as this engine two miles, and depositing it at so high a level, will give some idea of the force and quantity of the water that fills these rivers during that time. the rainy season varies as to time; sometimes it commences early in november, at others later, and lasts until february or march. in all these tributaries of the limpopo that drain the above region, none retain water throughout the year, although they are large and broad streams with steep and lofty banks, but during the dry season water may be obtained from most of them by digging a few feet in their sandy beds; they are all at too sharp an angle to allow water to remain in them. the main road from ba-mangwato to matabeleland crosses most of them, and frequently i have had to wait weeks on their banks until the flood-water had subsided to enable me to cross. on one occasion i was on the point of crossing the bamakaban river, and was treking down the bank to enter it with my waggon, when my driver called my attention to a great roaring sound which came from the up-river side. having previously had several days of storms, with heavy rains, we held still to listen, and from previous experience we too well knew the cause. there was not time to cross and reach the opposite side before the rush of water would be upon us, particularly with an ox-waggon, as the sand in these river-beds is very heavy for oxen to pull a waggon through, and sometimes they take it into their heads to come to a stand until they think proper to move on again, after a little coaxing with one or two south african waggon-whips, the handles of which are twelve feet long, and the lash twenty. therefore, to prevent any catastrophe, we selected a pretty open grassy glade on the wooded bank, and outspanned; but before we had completed this operation, the water was in sight, coming down like a wall, bringing trees of considerable size, large stems of dead wood, sticks, and froth, rushing and tearing along with a roaring sound that could be heard miles away, and in a few minutes there was sufficient to float a large ship. where would my waggon have been if i had attempted to cross?--carried down into the indian ocean in splinters. many a waggon and their owners have been caught in these flood-waters and lost in the rivers of africa. nevertheless, with all its inconveniences, it is a grand and imposing sight, and a novel one to those who are unaccustomed to african travelling in an ox-waggon. [a waggon which contained the journal of st. vincent erskine, the traveller, of his third expedition in this country, was thus washed down a river. a white girl and a kaffir and the oxen were drowned. a number of men searched the banks for the journal for days in vain, and it was only found accidentally two years afterwards in its tin case in a bush so high above the river that no one had thought of looking there.] we were detained here eleven days before we were able to cross, the sand in the river-bed being very deep, and resting on the granite-bed rock beneath, which is not very smooth or level. the force of the flood sweeps away all the sand, leaving a rugged bed; therefore it is prudent to wait till the water has drained away, that we may pick a safe road across, otherwise an axle might break, or some damage be done to the waggon. in all cases it is wise not to be in a hurry. i have known fussy transport riders flounder into such rivers before the water has subsided, and break their waggon, which has detained them weeks to get repaired. during our stay we had some excellent shooting, big game as well as small. the third afternoon of our stay seven giraffes were seen by my herd boy, who was looking after the oxen in the veldt, and he came and reported the same. not having my shooting pony at hand, i had to send for him and saddle up, and started with my driver and forelooper to find these noble animals; but to do so it is necessary to be very slim, as it is called here, that is very sharp and clever in stalking your game, otherwise it will escape. it is surprising how keen and sensitive the eye and ear become to all woodland sounds and trifling incidents necessary for a hunter to observe and note, to lead him up to the game he is seeking; a broken stick, a crushed leaf or blade of grass, a broken twig where the game has passed, must be keenly looked for. we had proceeded but a short distance when we met three mesere bushmen with their bows and arrows, who told my driver they were coming to tell us of several giraffes that were feeding in a dense bush not far away. with the natives not far away means any distance, they being bad judges in such cases. we, however, secured them to show the way, one taking the lead, the rest of us following in indian file, the pony being led by my driver. after winding in and out through the forest for nearly a mile as far as i could guess, the first bushman called a halt, at the same time he advanced crawling along very cautiously, until we lost sight of him for some little time, when we saw him come crawling back in the same way. he told us there were, by counting on his fingers, eight giraffes quietly feeding a short distance in front. the bush being too dense to make use of the pony, he was left behind in charge of my boy, and we, with our two rifles, with our bushman guide, had to adopt the same mode of advance, to get near enough for a shot, and crawl with the greatest caution, avoiding any dead and dry sticks, for at the least sound in breaking one they would be off and away in a moment. after proceeding on our hands and knees for some distance, the bushman, who was in front, motioned with his hand that they were in sight. crawling up with the greatest care, i could only distinguish their heads and long necks above the bushes which surrounded them on all sides, not one hundred yards away. we waited until one of their bodies came into view, when we were to fire from both rifles at the same animal. the silence of death was around, not a puff of air to move a leaf, the bright tropical sun shining in all his glory, making the heat almost intolerable. in this position we waited some ten minutes before a chance occurred. one of them came more into the open, with his body in full view. now was the moment to fire, and our two bullets entered his body with the well known sound which a ball makes in striking. he fell, but was up again in a moment. it was a beautiful sight to see; the others leaping and bounding away, swaying their long necks from side to side, until lost in the bush. but we had no time to look after them; our attention was drawn to the one we had shot. after regaining his feet and attempting to follow the others, he only staggered a short distance, and then fell dead; a noble corpse, and a noble bag. after our excitement was a little subsided, it was necessary to consider how we were to get such a huge beast to the waggon with the least trouble. it was arranged to inspan the waggon, and bring it round the best way we could through the forest to as near the dead giraffe as possible. it was now near upon ten o'clock in the morning. despatching my boys and one of the bushmen to carry this plan out, i remained with the other two bushmen, who wanted no instructions. giving them my hunting-knife, they were soon at work skinning this beautiful animal, which proved to be a young cow, but full-grown and the finest meat in africa, very much like veal in flavour. in a short time the waggon was brought up to within fifty yards, and outspanned in the shade of some noble trees, for the sun's rays were intense, and with the heat and fatigue, i was glad to throw myself on the grass, after a good drink of cold tea, to rest and smoke, whilst my kaffirs and driver were making a fire for cooking, skinning the giraffe, and doing other household work. being well supplied with good water, the casks being full, our contentment for the time was complete. what a glorious thing is this wild life, where game and water are plentiful, with liberty to roam where one lists, with health and strength to enjoy it! the only surprise is that any one can be ill in such a country, pure air, plenty of exercise, good food and water, constantly moving, seeing fresh sights daily: i pity the man that cannot enjoy a life so free and so exciting as this. a giraffe lying at full length on the grass is a grand sight. this one measured fifteen feet seven inches, from hoof to the ears, and it was a work of much labour to skin and cut up such a large beast, but everything was done by p.m. bushmen are like vultures, they scent game afar off, for by the time everything had been cleared up and put straight, eight fresh bushmen, their wives and several children, had put in an appearance, and were looking with longing eyes upon the remains of the giraffe. i was glad to see them, and told them they could take what was left. poor things, their delight was complete. knives were out, slashing and cutting up commenced, and divided out; a fire was made and cooking went on up to midnight. the night was fine, and as the fire lighted up the figures as they moved about, and shone upon the trees and shrubs, it was about as unique a picture as one could desire to see, and would have told well if the scene had been in hyde park or kensington gardens. during the night we were much annoyed by lions round our camp, some of them coming so close that a bushman caught up a burning piece of wood and threw it in the face of one, with such good aim, it fell on his shaggy mane, and made it smoke, when he cleared off. bushmen seem to care very little for lions; they think nothing of walking through the forest with only a short spear. i was too tired to go after them, but two days afterwards had a narrow escape; as i was walking along up the river-bank looking for guinea-fowl, i came plump upon two. having only my shot-gun i could do nothing. i was in a fix, and if they had known it, they could have made short work of my bones. as it was, we stood looking at each other, not with any pleasurable emotion on my part, and i think they participated in the same feeling, for after some five minutes had passed, the young lion slunk behind a thick bush, and soon after the old one followed. during the whole time i never moved hand or foot. if i had raised my gun to fire, or turned, the old one would have been down upon me in one spring, for i was within springing distance, we were so close. when the old one stood partly facing me, in an attitude of defence, his mane raised and his large glaring, fiery eyes fixed upon mine, he was a noble animal, appearing almost double the size of those caged at home. i never moved my position for some time after they disappeared; if i had they might have attacked; and when i did, it was for some twenty paces backwards, and then i turned and followed the river down to camp, after securing three guinea-fowl. during the remainder of my stay here, we cut up and dried the giraffe, to make biltong, which will keep for years; in the day exploring the rivers and country, taking observations, collecting specimens of everything interesting, and writing up my journal. on the th we found the river dry, and sent the boys down with spades to make the drift good by filling in the holes between the granite rocks, for the waggon to pass over, and we arrived on the north bank in the evening, in time to make fast the oxen to the trektow before dark. every night we heard lions and wolves, but this night we were infested with them: the scent of the raw flesh in the waggon seemed to draw them, for they gave us no peace. the bush was thick, and the night dark and cloudy. they gave us no chance for a shot; the only thing we could do was to keep up great fires all night and watch. we fired several shots into the darkness where we thought they were prowling about. several times we thought they were fighting by the fierce growls and spits they made, but we found the spits came from the females, as lions are never known to do so. if it were not for the novelty of the affair in listening to and seeing lions in their own native wilds, i would prefer a good sound sleep in my waggon, but we do not meet with such noble game every day of our lives. when sir john swinburne and his company were working for gold at tati, other diggers followed up that river, some thirty and others forty miles, and worked claims near its banks at todd's creek and charley, but did not find sufficient gold to pay, and they were also abandoned. at the present time a new company has been formed to work the old diggings at tati, and i believe find more than sufficient to pay expenses. ancient workings in the district have been discovered, but when used, no history can inform us. about a mile to the west of the tati station, on the summit of a hill about feet above the river, are some very interesting remains of an ancient fort, built of hewn stone. the outer walls, now standing, are four feet in height, with two courses running the whole length, about half-way up, with five regular courses between, built in the herring-bone fashion, similar to those in old roman walls now preserved in england. these stones are very thin, not much thicker than common tiles; the other courses have stones in regular layers, three inches deep and about a foot in length. this wall is two feet thick, and encloses a space of about half an acre. the floor originally was concrete; large portions still remain, and nearly in the centre are portions of small furnaces for melting metal. at the south-west corner of this enclosure are several rooms, with walls dividing them seven feet in height. in the eastern room the walls are twenty feet high, and it appears to have been a tower, leaving a space of some four feet between the outer and inner wall; and, when in a perfect state, it must have been a strong place, of defence, standing, as it does, on the topmost ridge of the hill, overlooking the river and surrounding country. there is no evidence of any mortar being used; mud may have been a substitute, and from time to time been washed away. trees are growing in many of these rooms of considerable size, as also bushes. this being a favourite lurking-place for lions, i had to explore it with a rifle in one hand, and book and rod in the other. it is a most interesting ruin and well constructed, evidently the work of a white race. there are no kaffir tribes in this part of africa or south that have ever been known to build their kraals square or with hewn stone. other ancient and similar ruins are still preserved beyond these diggings higher up the river, the walls also square and fifteen feet in height. the country is dense bush, with fine timber. lignum-vitae trees abound; the wood when cut is black and white, very hard, and used for waggon desselbooms and axles. it has been known to last almost as long as iron. the tati station is the only white man's station between ba-mangwato and gubuluwayo, the matabele king's military kraal. it is distant from the former miles, and from the latter miles. a few stores were opened by english traders, to supply the bushmen who brought ostrich feathers for sale (but if known by the matabele people they would have been killed), and also travellers and hunters passing up and down from the interior, as it is situated on the main and only transport road to that country. the range of mountains, "mopolo," forming the watershed above mentioned, averages in height feet above sea-level, there are some parts nearly ; it is of granite formation. along some of the rivers, already described, may be seen some fine slate rocks. the natives procure very fine gold-dust from the sand in some of the river-beds, and sell it. they preserve it in the quill of a feather from the wing of a vulture, where they deposit it for safety. every kind of game is found in this region, but it is becoming more scarce every year. this part is known as the makalakaland. quartz intersects the country in several parts, and is rich in gold. there are many military posts on the slopes of the watershed down to makobi's outpost, on the mpakwe river, which is the frontier outpost, where all travellers and hunters have to stop, to obtain permission to enter the country before proceeding. on the arrival of any stranger, a messenger is sent to the king, and if he objects, he has to turn back, and if allowed to proceed, two matabele warriors from the regiment stationed there take charge of the visitor, and conduct him to his majesty, who inquires his business, so that no one is allowed to enter his territory without his knowledge. although the matabele country comes down to the shasha river, no one occupies that district, except a few wandering bushmen, south of the military post at makobi's. there are many ancient forts similar to those at and near the tati, the ruins of which are still to be seen on commanding positions, but none of any great extent; a garrison of men would be as many as could occupy them. most of them are so concealed from view by trees and bush, that it is by mere accident they are discovered. i once outspanned in the centre of one without knowing it, thinking it an old kaffir kraal, until my attention was called to the peculiar form of the stonework of hewn stone, and the square rooms. at the mpakwe river near the south side of the drift, and twenty-nine miles north from the tati river, is another very interesting ruin, built of cut granite with regular courses, each stone nearly the same size, and regularly jointed. the walls are ten feet high, and two feet thick. the interior was a smooth granite concrete floor, and contained burnt earth similar to bricks, in great quantities. that portion facing the river was divided into several rooms. at the main entrance within the building is a small kind of sentry-box commanding the opening, capable of holding only two persons. the situation is commanding, and must have been, when perfect, capable of holding out against an enemy. there is another very good specimen of these ancient forts a short distance from the camarlo drift, on the river umfulamokokgumala, which is a branch of the mapui, that falls into the gwaii, a tributary of the zambese; this drift is on the topmost ridge of the watershed of the mopolo, at an elevation of feet above sea-level. the fort is feet square, with rounded corners. in the centre is a fort thirty-five feet square, with walls two feet thick. all of them have large bushes growing in and through the walls. there are many other ancient forts similar in construction to those described in this region, and also many more to the east, within the southern division of lo-bengulu's territory, and within the limpopo basin. sixty-three miles north of the tati gold-fields, on the transport road, is lee's farm, situated on the mpakwe river, a branch of the shasha, a grant of land which lee obtained many years ago from the king umseligasi, or better known as moselikatze, the dreaded chief. it is situated a few miles south of manyami's outpost, on the south slope of the matoppo mountain, the western spur of the mopolo range. lee, on his father's side, is english, but he has married into a boer family, and has great influence with lo-bengulu. sixty-three miles north of lee's farm is the great military station of lo-bengulu, situated on the summit of the watershed named gubuluwayo or gibbeklaik, a strong and well-laid-out town on the summit of a low hill; the king's houses and his cattle kraal being in the centre, surrounded by strong fencing, leaving an open space, round which the town is built. it will be more particularly described in another chapter, as it belongs more to the zambese basin. an extract from my journal for a few days will give a clearer insight into african travelling than any other description. from the tati gold-fields to gubuluwayo, the military kraal, distance miles. _december th_, .--inspanned at p.m. for the interior. treked about a mile, when my oxen, frightened by lions, turned suddenly round, and broke the desselboom of the waggon. i had to splice it, and return to tati station in the evening. _ th_.--kept awake all night by lions. out all day in the bush, looking for a suitable tree to cut down, to make desselboom; the knopjiesdoorn or lignum-vitae is the best. i went with rifle and kaffir with axe all round the hills, and at last found a straight one, which we cut down and brought to camp. _ th, sunday_.--a very wet, stormy day; severe thunderstorm. mr. scott returned from macloutsie river, there being no water on the road to mongwato. _ th, monday_.--very hot day. thermometer in shade degrees. barometer . ; altitude at this station , and at the river feet above sea-level. lions and wolves making noises all night. mr. lee's two married daughters came in from the hunting-veldt. we went out to examine an ancient fort, and look over old gold-diggings, mr. mcarthur making my desselboom, p.m. news brought in that camels and elephants are passing within four miles to the north-west. mcarthur and self saddle up, and after a ride of three miles, fall in with four giraffes. shot one, rode back, sent waggon on and followed, and brought back a waggon-load of meat. arrived in camp, p.m., thoroughly tired and hungry. had a grand supper at mcarthur's store, a glass of toddy, and to bed at p.m. _ th_.--out shooting all day with mcarthur. passed close to a lion in the bush, shot at him but missed, and he made off. a fearful storm in the night. _ th_.--two white men came in from gubuluwayo, they tell us lo-bengulu will not allow any white men in the mashona country, and has sent out a thousand kaffirs to drive away the game, and annoy the hunters in the hunting-veldt. scott, kurton, and many others have been robbed by the makalakas, and the king will give no satisfaction. many of the traders have been threatened with the assagai, and one's life is not safe in the country. thermometer degrees. visited the ancient forts to take measurements, and procure some pretty birds, of which this country is full. mr. brown, who has a store here, is very clever in preserving them. _ th_.--mcarthur making my desselboom. thermometer degrees. four waggons have come down, some from panda-ma-tenka. the hunters up there have done nothing, the game having all been driven away by the natives. trade is bad and everything in confusion. those come in to-day are wiltshire, gordon, fry, and four others. _ th_.--desselboom finished. very warm, degrees. out exploring amongst the hills, and also on the th. _ th_.--three waggons left to-day for down country, with palmer, bray, and gordon. _ th, tuesday_.--scott left to-day with thompson. rain all day and last night. lions came close up to waggon, but too dark to get a shot. _ th_.--kaffirs came in to tell us there are plenty of giraffes and buffalo between this and ramakaban river. saddle up, mcarthur with me; go in pursuit. come up with a herd of buffaloes, seventeen, but bush is so dense cannot get a good shot; and after several attempts to get round them, they make off for the hills, and we return to camp in time to escape a severe thunderstorm. _ th_.--out all day down the rivers. very hot, degrees. the rain makes the heat very trying. _ st, longest day_.--thermometer degrees. the river is coming down fast. in the morning there was no water in its bed. at p.m. it had risen twelve feet, bringing down large trees. _ nd, saturday_.--left the tati station at : a.m. travelled six miles, and outspanned at a pan for the day. plenty of water, wooded country all the way; crossed three bad sluits. buffaloes, giraffes, and elephants can be seen from the waggon as we trek along, but the bush is so thick we cannot follow them. shot a bastard eland before reaching the pan, which we secured by sending my two boys to protect it whilst we outspanned, as the distance was only a few hundred yards from the pan. the flesh is very good eating. inspanned at p.m., and treked four miles, as it came on to rain with thunder, and outspanned for the night in the bush. made three large fires round oxen, to keep off lions that were constantly prowling about the waggon. very pretty country, and pleasant to travel through when water is plentiful. mcarthur's driver i find very useful; he is a zulu and speaks english. _ rd_.--very warm, degrees. treked in two inspans to mpakwe river, through a very pretty and picturesque country. crossed the mpakwe on the th, a bad drift, and outspanned on the north bank, two miles south of makobi's outpost, a military kraal of the matabele king. sent dirk, my driver, to the head induna, for permission to go in. during his absence a zulu came to waggon. i gave him for a present some powder and bullets, also a kerchief. he then, while i was reading, stole an axe and my waggon-whip, and cleared. the river is very pretty, and the wooded hills, with the variety of trees and shrubs that grow on their sides, impart a richness to the landscape. _ th, christmas day_.--thermometer degrees. inspanned at six. treked up to makobi's outpost. two indunas came to me, and several hundred of the natives, men, women, and children, swarming round me, and under the waggon, ready to steal anything they could lay their hands on. i complained to the induna respecting the theft last evening, and told him i should report it to the king if the whip and axe were not returned. in about an hour the axe was returned, but not the whip. it was amusing to see all the kaffir girls when they came to sell their milk, ground-nuts, pumpkins, and other things, when i told them i would not buy any of their things because of the theft. they immediately began to abuse the thief in no measured language, because they found they had lost the sale of their goods; and when they found i was firm, the induna promised i should have the whip on my return, if it could not be found before i left. i therefore got into the waggon to get some beads to purchase milk and other things, followed by half-a-dozen kaffir maids with their goods, filling the waggon, followed by others blocking up the front. there was scarcely room to move. i soon cleared them out; these naked venuses were much better outside. the heat was terrific, degrees in the waggon, full of these wild children of nature, with several hundred naked people round and under the waggon; a regular babel of sounds, men begging for everything they saw, even wanting the clothes i had on. the head induna took a fancy to my waistcoat, and as i wanted to get on without sending a message to the king, i made a bargain with him, that if he would send two of his warriors as my guard to the king, i would give him the waistcoat and an old black coat. this settled the question. i gave him the coat and waistcoat, which he then put on his naked person, and strutted up and down full of pride and vanity to the admiration of all. he was a splendid specimen of humanity, standing at least six feet six inches, stout in proportion, with a handsome, expressive countenance. my coat looked ridiculously small, and the waistcoat would not meet in front by several inches, but that was of no consequence. at last, after settling for pay to my two guards, i left at p.m., thankful to get away. up to this time a cup of coffee in the early morning, and a few biscuits, had been my christmas fare. after travelling three miles over a very stony road i came to a stand. the only means of getting on was to make use of the screw-jack to raise the wheels over the enormous granite blocks in the road--first the front, then the after wheels. when clear of them i set to work to cut down trees, to make room for the waggon to pass. at last, when night came, i was too exhausted to do anything but lie down on my bed and go to sleep. christmas days in africa have, from some cause, been unlucky with me in the way of good fare; monkeys, tiger-cats, meercats, porcupines, ant-bears, and such like dainties, have always fallen to my lot on christmas day. _ th, wednesday_.--splendid morning. no disturbance all night. rose by sun-up, hungry; had a broil of some eland on an iron ramrod, and coffee--meat fit for the gods. lovely and cool, thermometer degrees. took a bath in a small stream close at hand, a luxury not always to be obtained. as it was a cloudy morning and cool, i gave the oxen a feed and drink before starting. as we were only a short distance from the military kraal, we soon had some thirty kaffir girls with wooden bowls of milk for sale. of all people i think these black people are most alive to the ridiculous and fun; full of what is called banter and quizzing, and very observant. on their arrival my boys and the two zulus began to chaff them, but they gave it back with interest, and evidently had the best of it. their witty remarks were very clever, and my boys had to give in. some of them were very good-looking, with beautiful figures and expressive faces. having filled all our bottles, and my kaffirs having had a good drink of milk, we inspanned, and after two treks arrived at lee's farm for the night, passing on the way many quaint granite hills covered with tropical vegetation. the country round was also very pretty. great unbroken masses of granite stand out in all directions. lee was from home; his wife gave us coffee and sold us some reims. _ th, thursday_.--beautiful morning. treked in two inspans through a lovely country, intersected by many lofty granite kopjies, feet in height, masses of granite formations, as if placed there by the hand of man; passing the manyami's outpost, on to matapola station at the foot of the mountain of the same name, and outspanned on a pleasant open piece of grass, near some fine trees, the kaffirs coming down in hundreds, begging "tusa, tusa," everlasting, until my head zulu, guard ordered them off to their kraal, leaving the girls to sell their milk and ground-nuts. without this guard i should have had much trouble to keep these sons of nature in subjection. on our way to-day i was nearly having to pay a large sum. at our outspan my herd boy, who had charge of the oxen when feeding, allowed them to stray into a kaffir garden, where a fine crop of kaffir corn was growing. my head guard found it out, and told my boys that they must bring on the oxen at once, inspan, and be off. if the kaffirs found their corn trampled and eaten it would be serious; so we lost no time to push on. if any damage of this kind occurs, if only to a trifling extent, they will demand many head of oxen as a quittance. the guards seemed as pleased to get away as we did. no game to be seen on this side of makobi's; there are too many kaffirs in the country. many thousand head of cattle grazing everywhere. _ th, friday_.--made two treks to-day. crossed several bad drifts, but the scenery is very grand and beautiful, passing between lofty and grotesque granite conical hills, beautifully covered with many varieties of tropical shrubs and flowers. met mr. john lee going home with mr. byles the hunter, and mr. white, at our first outspan. passed several pretty trees (of the cactus family) and the siequarre trees, which bear long leaves, and at this season of the year dead flowers. wild cotton grows in this region, and a plant called obendly, another kind of cotton-plant. the natives work up the cotton into long strings, fasten many together, and use it for tinder, or for sale to traders and hunters. the fibre is very tough, and if cultivated would be a valuable article of commerce; the flower is very peculiar, having green leaves; the pod is five inches in length, has three sides with a rib between, each side being one and a quarter inches wide, and green; the leaf is light-green above and white beneath, and grows along the ground. it is not found to grow south of twenty-one degrees, south latitude. i have now in my service the zulu engaged at makobi's (dumaka) as forelooper; jack, the driver; dirk, second driver; mack, the cook and general servant; jacob, a bechuana, and the two zulu guards. _ th, saturday_.--travelled to-day in three short inspans, through a fine open country, thickly populated, large kraals in all directions. people very troublesome, constantly asking for presents, "tusa," all day longitude. weather pleasantly warm, thermometer degrees, a strong east wind blowing. bought kaffir beer for my boys at the amaboguana, a large kaffir station, and outspanned for the night near the large military station amagoquana. bought two kaffir sheep for three pounds of beads. the country is well adapted for grazing purposes; the sheep were in splendid condition, each tail produced from ten to fourteen pounds of fat. _ th, sunday_.--we crossed the carmarlo drift, and went on to one of lo-bengulu's country stations, umcarno, which is situated about twelve miles on the west of gubuluwayo, where i found the king sitting on his waggon-box in his kraal, and the rev. mr. sykes and mrs. sykes at their waggon a short distance away. the rivers that complete the drainage of the eastern portion of the mashona country, south of the mopolo watershed, are the tributaries of the sabia river. the most important are the ingwezi, lunde, tokwe, and several small ones to the north. the sabia rises in the watershed at an elevation of feet above sea-level, flows south for nearly miles, then turns east, then north-east, and enters the indian ocean thirty miles south of sofala. this river is supposed to be the boundary between lo-bengulu and the chief umzela on the east. the country is similar in character to that already described of the western region, inhabited by the same people, thickly populated, with many large kraals, most of them perched upon elevated spurs of the molopo range and isolated hills. the highest points reach feet in altitude. the greater portion of this region is granite, and contains fine springs. many of the military kraals have powerful chiefs. from the watershed the country gradually descends from feet down to feet, where the tokwe and ingwezi unite, with hills intervening. the spurs from the watershed run in a south-east direction, the same as the rivers. there are rice plains and large tracts of wild cotton, which is indigenous. many ancient forts are still standing in ruins. umte, piza, and zimbo have gold-pits near them, as also many others, that would lead one to suppose that those who worked for gold in this country built these forts for protection against the natives and the wild animals, as the country at that time must have swarmed with them. as a wood-producing country there is no part of africa which contains finer or more valuable trees. almost every kind known in africa flourishes here in perfection, and grows to an immense size, mahogany and ebony being the two most important. the sabia valley is most picturesque, and the land is capable of growing everything that is required; all kinds of grain, vegetables, fruits, rice, cotton, indigo, spices, oranges, lemons, besides the wild fruit. there are lofty mountain ranges towards the north, the native name of which is luputa or lobolo. the climate in the summer is hot, but in winter mild. the lowlands are subject to fever, the other portions are healthy. gold and other minerals are found, the gold in quartz and alluvial, and if properly prospected would, from ill information obtained, become a most valuable gold-field; besides the copper and silver that are known to exist in great quantities along the spurs of the mountain. the natives state the gold was worked and the forts built by the white men that once occupied this country, whom they called abberlomba (men who made everything), and there is every appearance that it is so, for i am quite of opinion no african race of these parts ever built these strongholds, or took the trouble to make such extensive excavations in the earth as we find all over the country. chapter twenty two. the physical geography of that part of the mashona and matabeleland on the north of the watershed dividing the zambese and limpopo basins, under the rule of the matabele king, with notes on my explorations in the zambese basin. this northern portion of lo-bengulu's kingdom is separated from the southern by the watershed already described, dividing his territory into two equal parts. this division extends to the zambese. the western boundary joins up to the chief khama's territory, and the eastern by the upper part of the mazoe river, crossing the lobolo mountain to the zambese in degrees east longitude. the northern face of the watershed is a rugged and mountainous country, broken up into many spurs with deep ravines thickly wooded. the country is drained by many tributaries of the zambese, with their branches, the most important being the gwaii. the altitude of the source of this river is feet. the rivers falling into it are the inkokwasi, umvungu, chamgani, kagane, umkhosi, kame, mapui, amatza, amaboguana, and the umfulamokokgumale, which supply the country with water. upon several are situated many of the most important military kraals, viz. amaboguana, inyatine, umkano, umganine, umhalbatine, umslaslantala, gubuluwayo, umzamala, umbambo, umshangiva, manpangi, inthlathlangela, and many others. the gwaii enters the zambese in degrees minutes south latitude, and degrees minutes east longitude, passing through the abutua region, which is thickly wooded. the next important rivers are the umnyaki, the umvuli, and the mazoe, and their several branches. the country is very hilly, clothed with dense bush towards the zambese. the scenery is grand in many parts; bold massive granite rocks standing out far above the surrounding country give a wildness to the landscape. the lobolo mountain is the eastern termination of this watershed on the south of the zambese river, in the banyai region, a lofty range broken up into many spurs and detached hills, thickly populated, feet above the sea-level. the leputa, which is a continuation of the lobolo, takes a south-west course, through which the umvuli flows, and several tributaries of the river panyame, that flows into the zambese a few miles below the old jesuit mission station zumbo, on the north bank of the river. the watershed from the lobolo mountain takes a south course to degrees minutes south latitude, at an elevation of feet, continuing in the same course for sixty miles, where the altitude reaches feet; then turns south-west for miles to gubuluwayo, the king's kraal, where it is feet above sea-level. this military station is in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. at this point the watershed is much broken up, taking a westerly course under the name of matoppo range for miles, at an elevation of feet, to umsuaze kraal, where it considerably diminishes in height to feet. to the south of this station it rises to feet, where it takes a southern course, leaving the great brak pan makarakara some twenty miles on the right, and passing east of it; then in a south-west direction to kaikai in the kalahara desert, where it joins the central watershed of south central africa. the country on the north for some considerable distance continues high table-land. at sebenane kraal, near the source of the natu river, it is feet, and on the amatza river, thirty miles to the east, the elevation is feet. at bobe, on the road to inyatine, it is feet; at sabaque kraal, on the river of the same name, the altitude is feet; at maaschen kraal, on the saturo river, it is feet; at the old gold-diggings on the umvuli river, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, the elevation is feet, and as the zambese below the victoria falls, where the zimboya river enters it, is feet, and continues to fall considerably down nearly to tette, a portuguese town on the south bank of the zambese, above where the mazoe enters, the fall in these rivers is not so great, and all the region between the watershed and that river is not lower in any part than feet above sea-level; so that the elevation of the watershed above the surrounding country on both sides of it is in no case more than feet, so that in travelling through the country the rise is almost imperceptible. this northern region of lo-bengulu's territory, known as matabeleland, is thickly studded with large military kraals and villages occupied by the mashona kaffirs. some of them are very powerful, so much so, that when they cause the king to be jealous of them, he sends an impi (army) composed of some of his bravest warriors, who make an attack on the station at night when all are fast asleep, and kill every soul except the very young, whom they bring back with them, together with the captured cattle and other booty to the king, which disposes of any anxiety he may have on the score of a rival to his authority. ancient gold-diggings and old forts are found in every locality, more particularly in the north and north-east direction towards the zambese, some of them very extensive, and appear to have been worked for years. most of the rivers contain gold-dust in their sandy beds, and many of the natives of the present time collect it for their head indunas, and sell it to the portuguese at tette on the zambese river, a considerable village with beautiful gardens and fruit of every description in perfection. it is now nearly twenty years since the well known elephant-hunter, mr. hartly, when out hunting in the mashona country, on the umvuli river, discovered those ancient gold-diggings now so well known to most travellers who have penetrated so far in as the northern gold-fields, and a hill near is known as hartly hill. more recently they have been visited by sir john swinbourne in , but at present nothing can be done to develop the country, from the insecurity of the present state of affairs in the territory. my impression is that gold is spread over the whole country, both in alluvial and in quartz. reefs of this rock are seen in every direction, bordered by rich deposits of clay, shale, and other rocks, indicative of gold being close at hand. there are several small hills of igneous rocks to be met with, also metamorphic schists and other deposits that have no uniformity in their distribution over the country, which gives better hopes of rich gold deposits being discovered. at the present time no one is allowed in, even to prospect. no traveller enters the country without special permission from the king, and he must be accompanied by several matabele warriors, professedly as guides and for protection, but absolutely as spies, to see what the white man is up to, and if found looking about on the ground or picking up any stones, he is quickly ordered out of the country, as in the case of st. vincent erskine, who was sent for by the king, because he was staying for a day or two at the site of an ancient mine. it is a region full of interest in every sense of the word. to the mineralogist, geologist, botanist, naturalist, hunter, and others in search of the beauties of nature, this region offers as fine a field as any portion of the world. it is also of great interest to antiquaries, as being the supposed kingdom of the queen of sheba, and not without substantial foundation; for do we not find, in every turn we take, ruins of strongholds and extensive remains of gold-workings, the labour of former people who once occupied this land? scenery more picturesque, grand, and wild cannot be found. animals, the largest in the world, abound, and of every variety. to the horticulturist a new field is open for discovery. flowers and many beautiful trees rarely to be met with elsewhere, grow in great profusion; amongst them the grand old baobab, that has defied winds and storms. palms grace the country with their presence; mapani, euphorbias, aloes, cacti of every variety and beauty, with crimson flowers, mahogany, ebony, mimosas, acacias, and the beautiful matchabela, the tints of which are of a lovely crimson when springing into leaf, and when they are fully blown turn to a rich green; then again, the leghondi, with its golden yellow leaves, and others equally beautiful but unknown, make up a landscape lovely to look upon. when they fringe the river-banks, beneath which the crocodile and hippopotamus are amusing themselves, and the water-fowl and cranes are busy seeking food, with the birds of rich plumage passing from tree to tree, as pretty a landscape is made up as can be desired, backed, as all the foreground is, by gigantic castellated granite hills and quaint rocks standing out as if representing some animals, so lifelike are their outlines. when first i looked upon one representing a wolf, i could scarcely believe it was so formed by nature. as a field for agriculture none can surpass it. corn of every kind grows to perfection. coffee, tea, cotton, indigo, all kinds of spices, india-rubber trees, oranges, and lemons, are found wild; vegetables of all sorts, sweet potato, and many other kinds of plants. the climate is healthy away from the coast region, and water is plentiful; and, if in our hands, the land would support millions where it now keeps alive thousands of natives; and as a region for the cultivation of the cotton-plant it is the finest i may say in the world, for the cotton, which is indigenous without any cultivation, is superior to the cultivated cotton grown in america. twenty-five thousand square miles of ground could with little trouble and expense produce as much as the british merchants require, and of superior quality. i forwarded samples to the right hon. the earl of carnarvon, then secretary of state for the colonies, in , and i also left with sir bartle frere, then governor of south africa, similar samples in . as a rice-producing country, i know of no better. the mashonas cultivate it on a small scale, and bring it to gubuluwayo for sale to the traders and hunters on the station. the grain is larger than that which is brought to england, and less quantity is required for cooking. i have used it for years when opportunity allowed for getting it from the natives. the missionary stations in this country are at inyatine, where the rev. mr. sykes has for many years been doing duty. the late rev. mr. thomas formerly lived there, but he afterwards removed down to shiloh. the former is sixty miles north of gubuluwayo, the latter about thirty miles in a north-west direction. hopefountain is four miles to the north of this military station, where the rev. mr. thompson formerly lived; afterwards the rev. messrs. elms and elliott, all of whom are under the london missionary society. inyati, afterwards altered to inyatine, was the first royal residence of the dreaded umselekatze, who ruled his people with a rod of iron, and kept an army of over warriors, and could bring more into the field if required. he was a king who knew how to rule his people; a splendid warrior himself, he took care that his troops should be so likewise. he died in , and at his death there was a dispute as to who should be his successor. kuruman, his son by a royal wife, was supposed to be living in natal, instead of being killed by order of his father; but on inquiry it was stated he had been killed. lo-bengulu, on the th january, , was proclaimed king with groat rejoicings. warriors to the number of , assembled at the king's kraal, dressed in full war costume, a helmet of black ostrich feathers, capes and epaulets of the same, strips of cat-skins for their kilts, and other ornamentations on their legs. armed with short stabbing assagais and shields of oxhide, they formed a circle some twenty deep, paying homage to their new king, singing his praises, keeping time with their feet, and going through various performances, after which a great slaughter of oxen took place, with feasting and kaffir beer, terminating the day's proceedings. he has reigned up to the present time without any disturbance amongst his people. the mashonas are a separate race from the matabele, who originally were pure zulus when they came into this country with their chief umselekatze, or as he was better known under the name of moselikatze. since then many of them have taken to wife the young girls of the mashona tribe. the great men and high-caste zulus take pride in keeping themselves pure from any mixture with other races, and in walking amongst them in their kraals a marked difference is seen. the pure matabele is a fine specimen of the human race; tall, well-made, with regular features and an upright bearing. lo-bengulu allows these marriages, as it tends to unite the nation closer together. generally they look upon the mashonas as dogs. the mashonas are very clever workmen in wood and iron, and make very handsome bowls, snuff-boxes, spoons, daggers, assagais, and spears, which they ornament with carvings. many of their figures so much resemble ancient egyptians that it is difficult to distinguish any difference. quaint musical instruments show great skill, having keys similar to a piano, bass and treble producing very sweet sounds. they make all their iron picks for preparing the ground for the seed. blankets they make from the wild cotton, which they dye brown; also bags for holding milk or water of the bark of the baobab and other trees. their bows and arrows are beautifully made. they are very clever in cutting out from a block of wood little stools, which are used for pillows by the young dandies, to preserve their hair from touching the ground when sleeping. the fashion with the young men is to allow their woolly hair to grow quite long, which they increase in length by tying it up with red bark from the trees (mimosa is preferred), and anoint it with fat. the hair is so arranged that it forms ridges from the front to the back of the head. when sufficiently long, that is about a foot, it is dressed with fat mixed with charcoal, and then divided in the centre, that the curls may fall down on each side, with a band round the head to keep the curls in their place, and to preserve them from dirt or dust. each dandy carries with him one of these wooden neck-pillows, which are in most cases elaborately carved, and are much prized. many of their customs are similar to those we see in egyptian paintings of those people, and when they are sitting down, their figures, face, and features, and mode of dress are in every way egyptian. their villages are almost always built on the most inaccessible parts of the mountain ridges, to be safe from any sudden attack of the matabele warriors. some of them are perched on the top of masses of granite rocks, so that the people themselves have difficulty to reach them. a pole or ox-reim is used to climb up. other rocks are used to stow away their corn and food. the tsetse-fly is common nearly all over the country, but there are certain districts clear of them. i have been told by the natives that cattle born in the country are free from any ill-effect of the bite. the mashona huts are very well-made, most of them with circular roofs. the matabele build their huts very similar to the bechuanas, but the zulus of natal have round roofs fenced in with a high stick fence, and kept very neat and clean. the mashonas are a well-made people, and some of the women very good-looking when young, but after twenty they begin to show age. a man may have as many wives as he can buy, but few men have large families. gubuluwayro up to recently has been the principal military kraal of lo-bengulu; latterly he has removed to another locality. it was on my last visit very extensive, containing several thousand people. his own residence was built similar to any english house, with a verandah, supported by posts. there were several rooms, but most of them were in dreadful disorder; boxes, elephants' tusks, empty champagne and english beer bottles, karosses, old clothes, guns, shields, and assagais, all covered with dust and dirt. elephants' tusks strewed the verandah; there was no room to walk about or seats to sit upon. there were three other buildings, several waggons, an old cart, and rubbish everywhere. close to the house was his principal cattle kraal, and another smaller one on the left. the passage leading to the interior of the enclosure passed between; it is only wide enough for one to pass along at a time, and in wet weather is several inches deep in mud. this enclosure exceeded two acres in extent, enclosed by a high strong fence of poles placed double. each cattle kraal was surrounded in the same way. several thorn trees grow within the enclosure, under which the waggon stood. his sister nina occupied one of the houses. she was unmarried, very stout like her brother, and a good friend to all the english visiting the country. she had great influence with the king, but was a great beggar at the same time. i had not been outspanned half an hour before she sent down a matabele for some linen; i sent up six yards. she then sent for some beads, and i sent up a pound of them. she sent again for some sugar; i sent about a pound. the next day she wanted more linen to cover over some kaffir beer she had been making for her brother; i sent her only three yards. it is the same with all who go there. there were many traders at the station who kept stores, some in brick houses, others in kaffir huts, situated outside of the military station that surrounded the king's kraal, leaving an open space of about yards all round between the town and the king's enclosure, where he reviews his troops on grand occasions. several trees are growing upon it. the station commands a view in all directions. the stream from which the town is supplied with water is at the foot of the hill, about a third of a mile from the nearest huts. the country round is very bare of trees. kaffir gardens are situated on the rising ground beyond the hill, upon which the town is built. kaffir corn is the principal food of the people. the women cultivate the land and bring water to their houses, so that there is a constant stream of them with their kaffir pots going up and down the hill on all sides, conveying it to their houses. most of the women have little black babies on their backs, supported by well-worn skins of the wild animals killed by the men; with little naked urchins running by their mother's side, hanging on to the skin worn similar to a kilt, happy as they can be, talking to their neighbours as they meet, singing with all the lightness of a happy heart. they continue to suck until five or six years old. when we compare their habits with civilised life, there is very little difference. they have the same routine of duty to go through daily in their household affairs, so far as cooking, keeping their huts in order, attending to their gardens and such things. the men make the karosses and attend to their cattle. the matabele race live precisely in the same way, and have the same habits as their neighbours, the bechuanas. the king has several country kraals, which he visits at different times for a change. the country cannot boast of many good roads; there is only one direct from the south. others from mongwato go round to the west by the great salt-pan makarakara. there are also two from the tati district, and two from gubuluwayo, and other hunting roads from inyatine to the zambese, victoria falls, and military kraals in various parts of the territory, many of them very good, others stony and with bad drifts. inyatine during the lifetime of moselikatze was an extensive military station. after his death it was destroyed, and the king removed south, and eventually settled at gubuluwayo; but it appears that lately he has abandoned that station, and fixed his residence in another locality. the road from the king's kraal to sebenane station, where several roads branch off, one going to panda-ma-tenka, mr. g. westbeech's large store, passes through a sandy country with numerous pans and vleis, dry in winter, but containing water in summer. in the lechuma valley beyond, wankies, a chief, a few years ago, had possession of the country until lo-bengulu took it from him, and wankies and his people crossed the zambese and settled on its northern bank. the victoria falls are considered to be included in the matabele kingdom. although this part of the country is feet above sea-level, it is very unhealthy during the summer months. mr. g. westbeech, who has lived and hunted in the country for the last thirteen years, told me in he had had the fever over thirty times, and when he took quinine the dose would be a small teaspoonful. the country generally through this part is very pretty, in many portions park-like, with clumps of trees in groups; but the roads are fearfully sandy, and the want of water for some six and seven months of the year is a great drawback to the country improving. but when the time comes, and the people of the cape colony are more alive to their own interests, instead of living in their present dormant state, devoting their attention to subjects of no real importance to their prosperity, they will see how vital it is to their interests to have a central railway up through africa to the congo basin, and to draw a vast trade south, that would otherwise flow to the west coast, and all the country that is situated on the north side of the zambese river, up to what is included in the congo state, a region of untold wealth, teeming with elephants, ostriches, and every kind of large game; thickly populated by intelligent races, who are alive to the advantage of those comforts that civilisation brings into the country. from a want of forethought the colonists have lost the west coast, and as far inland as the degrees east longitude, and they will find the germans no mean competitors in the interior trade of that vast region. the barotse tribe, in particular, which is very numerous, has already received great benefit from the english trade introduced first into the country by mr. westbeech at the chief's kraal on the north side of the zambese, and afterwards by other traders, when the chief secheke was alive. the extent of this region north of the river, within a reasonable distance of a railway at the victoria falls, is , square miles. the distance of railway carriage from the zambese river to kimberley is miles, to where a railway is already being constructed. a single line could be made at a trifling cost, as the country through which it would pass is comparatively a dead level; and beyond the vaal river at barkly, where a bridge is now being erected, only a few small streams would have to be crossed. the distance is less by several hundred miles from the above region to kimberley over an easy route, than it is to the congo river through a difficult and mountainous country, where large rivers would have to be bridged, making a line almost impracticable. such a line would also open up the country on the south side of the zambese river. towns would spring up, and the advantages to the cape colony would be incalculable. if fifty miles at a time were laid down and completed, or more, if funds could be obtained, it would not take many years to accomplish this grand object. it would be far more to the advantage of the colony and english trade in time than extending the railway from kimberley to the transvaal, although the commerce may be largely increased under the present boer rule, with whom we should have trouble in the duties they would levy on every article entering or leaving the state. i have explored the whole line of country from the zambese river to kimberley, and have no hesitation in stating that a better country could not be selected for a railway, or where the cost would be less. the country north of the zambese river, already spoken of, is one of the most valuable portions of south central africa, intersected by large rivers, tributaries of the zambese, the elevation being nearly feet above sea-level, with splendid open and extensive grass plains, most valuable for grazing all kinds of stock. it is also a fine corn-growing country. with a railway to the zambese river, it would be easy for settlers to reach it, and a road for an outlet for their produce. the plan is feasible: it only requires a little more energy on the part of the colonists, whose interests in the trade of the colony are important, to seriously consider this matter, and develop a plan for carrying it into effect. this would counteract in a great measure the loss the colonists must suffer in their trade with the interior, by the delagoa bay railway. i have referred before to the wild cotton of that part of africa the quality of which, as i have before stated, is superior to the cultivated american cotton. if the manchester cotton princes had a little more vitality in their composition, and turned their attention to growing their own cotton, and had their own cotton-fields in the finest part of the world for cotton culture, instead of being dependent on foreign markets for their supply, when at any time that supply may be stopped, they would find that they could produce a better quality of cotton and at a cheaper rate than that now imported to england from the united states of america. i have explored this extensive cotton-growing region, and have for years devoted much attention to the subject, and from my knowledge of the extent of the country in which the cotton-plant is indigenous, this region would, with proper attention, become the largest cotton-growing country in the world. it is useless to suppose that with the growing competition with other nations, that trade will be the same in the future as it has been in the past. if this idea prevails, the sooner we are disabused of it the better for those who are embarked, in it; and we must devise means whereby they may retain and improve the trade of this country, which must be increased if we are to find employment and food for the growing population, which is enormously increasing. therefore it is the duty of those who have capital at command and are engaged in mercantile pursuit, to develop the british trade, not only for their own benefit, but for the general good of the nation; and here is a wide field in which their capital can be advantageously employed, and be of immense benefit to the cape colony and england. there are three kinds of cotton indigenous to the regions above-named. the first and most important is that from which some of the natives make blankets. the yellow flower is cup-like in shape, eight inches in diameter, and the pod when ripe is six inches in length. the plant grows to the height of seven and eight feet, with light-green leaves. in the second specimen the flower was, when full blown, four inches in diameter, the pod two inches in length, the height of the tree three feet, with light-green leaves. the third kind is the obendly already described, viz. the flower is green, pod five inches in length, has three sides with a rib between, each side one and a quarter inches wide, and green; the leaf is light-green above and white under. the mashonas manufacture a coarse cloth made from the bark of the baobab tree, the size of blankets, and dye them brown; they are very strong and are used as mantles by the natives; they are made by hand without any machinery. this bark could, with machinery, be turned to valuable uses. they also make beautiful bags to hold milk or water, and sacks for general use, very strong and durable. paper also could be made from this bark, and there are also millions of immense bulbous roots found everywhere, suitable for paper-making, besides other plants valuable for many purposes. the importance of this railway for opening up the rich gold-fields known to exist in the mashona country, must not be overlooked in calculating its advantages, for they far surpass in extent those in the transvaal. copper, lead, and silver are known to exist also, close to where the railway would go, which cannot now be profitably worked from the expensive carriage and the slowness of the transit to the colony. immense quantities of skins of all kinds of animals are now lost in consequence of the expense of bringing them down to the coast for shipment, as well as ivory, horns, feathers, and gums, without taking into consideration the valuable woods, such as mahogany, ebony, lignum-vitae, and others; and what is of the greatest importance in considering a railway, coal is known to exist in the country in any quantity required. when i visited the matabele country the last time, i came on a mission from sir bartle frere, to report on the cotton-bearing country, and other matters that information was required on by the government. on my arrival i reported myself to the king, where i found him on the th of december, at his country village, umkano, or, as some term it, umganine, a pretty situation with only a few huts beside the king's, that numbered eight or ten, as before stated in a former part of this chapter. chapter twenty three. mashona and matabeleland continued, with notes on the country and people, which is within the zambese basin. when i arrived at umkano kraal on the th december, it was sunday; when i had drawn up my waggon in a nice snug nook to be away from the native kraals, and outspanned, it was p.m. dinner was soon prepared and despatched, and then i sent my two warrior guards to the king to announce my arrival, and that i would call on his majesty to-morrow. a short distance from my camp, four waggons were drawn up abreast, no one to be seen, except a white lady sitting on the waggon-box of one of them. i therefore lost no time in going over, and found it was mrs. sykes, wife of the rev. mr. sykes of inyatine, who was then holding service in an adjoining hut to a few natives. the other waggons belonged to the rev. mr. coillard of the french missionary society, in basutoland, who had come up to matabeleland to endeavour to found a few native mission stations; and instead of coming up by the main transport road and reporting himself in the usual way, he passed through the transvaal, crossed the limpopo at zoutpans drift, and entered the mashona country as it were by the back door, and as he travelled north, he was seen to pick a few flowers, which was reported to lo-bengulu, when he sent immediately eighty of his warriors to bring him and his belongings prisoners to this station, and he arrived the day previous to my arrival. this brought mr. sykes over from inyatine to intercede and get him released, as also his waggons, wife, and wife's sister, who were accompanying him; a rather dangerous journey for two ladies, when the husband had never been in before and knew not the country, to go exploring unknown regions, and it was a great surprise to us all that they came out safe. when gaining all this information from mrs. sykes, the gentleman himself, his wife and sister came strolling in from a ramble, when we all made ourselves comfortable round mrs. sykes' waggon to enjoy a cup of tea, the most refreshing drink in a climate like this, thermometer standing at degrees at six o'clock in the evening, and a cloudless sky. mr. sykes soon joined us after the conclusion of his service. when europeans meet in a region so remote as this from civilisation, surrounded by savage tribes, naked as when they were born, and as wild as nature can make them, knowing no law but that of their king, who rules at the point of his assagai, we at once become brothers and sisters, and friendship is then and there established; so it was with us, chatting and talking as if we had been old and dear friends. it is true, i had known mr. and mrs. sykes a long time, when i first met them in , and afterwards. having spent a pleasant evening listening to mr. coillard's account of his adventures through that wild region, i returned to waggon and to bed at p.m.; a calm hot night, flies by the million, mosquitoes by the thousand round my waggon. at all kaffir stations it is the same; the cattle kraals breed the flies, and the water the mosquitoes. at the present time the water is so full of them, that it has to be strained through a piece of muslin before being used. mr. fairbourne from gubuluwayo came in the evening to tell me that lo-bengulu intends leaving this station for gubuluwayo to-morrow, as his great military dance comes off on tuesday. he informed us all that the party at ujiji had been laid up with the fever, except the rev. mr. price, and some had died. most of them we all knew. lo-bengulu and his indunas will not allow any white men in the country through which mr. coillard proposed going, as they state, "if we permit them to reside there, where are we, the matabele people, to go to, to get cattle and slaves?"--in other words, to rob the mashona people of their property and cattle; if not peaceable, to slaughter them, take the young children as slaves, and bring them up to incorporate them in the army. early on monday morning, mr. phillips, old john viljuen, and mr. frewen rode over. the latter was going further in, and had proceeded some distance, when he was obliged to turn and come on to this station, and left this morning on his way down country, my two guards returning to makobis with him. height of this station by aneroid barometer, feet above sea-level. the country round is well-wooded, but the trees are small. degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. i went to call on lo-bengulu; he was sitting on his waggon-box naked, all but his cat-tail kilt. after shaking hands and passing the compliments of the day, i told him, as he expected one of his regiments over to escort him to the military kraal, i would defer my talk with him until after the grand dance. he asked me to follow him when he started; that meant, i was to fall in with the other waggons of the white people composing the cavalcade. we started about a.m., mr. sykes taking the lead behind the king's waggons, which were surrounded by about twenty zulu women and girls. one waggon held his sister nina and the kaffir beer; next followed mr. coillard and his waggons, then my waggon, phillips, viljuen, and other white men on horseback, and about a hundred of the king's body guard, about as unique a turn-out as one could desire to see--an african king on his travels--it would have graced regent street. after a seven-mile trek, we outspanned for the day at a small kraal, on the road to the military camp--as a messenger had been sent to say five regiments would be sent out the next morning, inviting the king home, being the usual custom on the king returning after a long absence; therefore we selected a suitable place to remain the night, away from the crowd of blacks, and made ourselves comfortable the remainder of the day. _tuesday, january st_, .--a lovely bright morning. thermometer at a.m., degrees. after breakfast the matabele regiments came over, some four hundred, dressed in their war dress, black ostrich feathers for head-dress, a tippet and epaulets of the same, tigers'-tails in profusion round the loins and hanging down to the ground behind, with anklets of the shell of a fruit the size of an egg, with stones inside to make them jingle as they move their feet; armed with shield and several assagais. so they came on, singing their war songs, jumping up, striking their shields. with their black skins, white teeth, and the white part of their eyes, they were fit representations of imps issuing from a certain place known to the wicked. on arriving at the king's waggon, where the king was sitting on his waggon-box, they went through a kind of dance, singing the king's praise, lo-bengulu quietly looking on. the king's wives, between thirty and forty, dressed only in black kilts down below the knee, open in front; the kilt is made of black sheep or goat-skin; some, i think, are made of otter-skin; others had mantles of the same; several had their heads shaved; many cut quite close. after the dance, we all inspanned, and followed the king's waggons in the same order as yesterday; until we arrived at gubuluwayo, the military kraal. i took my waggon and outspanned alongside of mr wood's waggons, on the opposite rise to the kraal, to be free from the people, and have some peace; and remained the day. all round the kraal is open, every available piece of ground is under the hoe. wednesday, i went in the morning, with mr. and mrs. sykes, mr. and mrs. coillard and her sister, who seems to be about twenty, to the king's kraal, to see the soldiers reviewed by the king, in the open space between the town huts and the king's enclosure. it was a novel sight, and one seen in no other part of the world. the regiments formed an immense circle, eight and ten deep; there appeared to be about , all dressed in their war dress similar to those of yesterday. each regiment contains about sixty, and is distinguished by different coloured shields. when they sing their war songs in their deep bass voices, keeping time with stamping on the ground with their right and then left foot, striking their shields with their assagais, the effect is grand-- the earth appears to tremble. occasionally, one or two come out into the centre of the circle, and go through the performance of fighting the enemy, advancing, retreating, then in close combat, striking out with their assagai in imitation of stabbing his foe, and making as many stabs as he has killed victims; others come out when these retire, and this performance goes on during the war songs. it is considered a great feat if a warrior can jump high in the air, and strike his shield several times with both ends of his short stabbing assagai, before touching the ground and knocking his knees and feet together. then come the king's wives, old and young, and all the young royal girls, wearing a black goat-skin kilt down to the knee, dressed out with yellow handkerchiefs, the royal colour, profusion of many-coloured beads, many-coloured ribbons, long sashes of broad yellow ribbon, all entering the arena at the same time. advancing to the centre with slow measured steps, they raise first the left then the right leg, and put it down, keeping excellent time, chanting native songs, the warriors remaining perfectly still and silent, they then turn and retire in the same way; all this time the king is not seen, he is in the cattle kraal with his medicine-man, examining the intestines of two bullocks that have been killed for that purpose. after a time, a clear road is made, and large baskets filled with the intestines are brought out from the kraal: it is death for a native to touch, it; or be near when it is passed away to the king's enclosure. then comes out the chief medicine-man, enveloped in long ox-tails that completely conceal his tall figure, reaching to the ground, with a little jockey cap on having fur in front and a long crane's feather, when he marches up and down in the centre of the arena, and in front of where the king is known to be, singing his praise. after a time, the king makes his appearance, advancing from the kraal with a towering head-dress of black ostrich feathers, an immense cape of the same, a kilt of cats'-tails, with an assagai poised in his right hand, advancing slowly in a stooping position; his fat sister nina, dressed out with a long kilt half-way down the leg, any number of yellow handkerchiefs over her shoulders, and gold chains hanging down in front and behind, with the feathers from the tail of the blue jay stuck into her woolly hair, and a knobkerry in her hand, also advances beside the king, until they both reach the centre of the arena. the warriors singing their war songs, stamping their feet to keep time, rattling their shields, the scene becomes quite exciting. poor nina becomes exhausted, has to kneel on the ground several times, supporting her body with her hands, also on the ground, and looks anything but an elegant figure. the five royal daughters, whose ages average from sixteen to six, advance again, and chant a native tune; then the king calls for silence; order is given that each regiment is to march out on to the open plain and have a sham fight, which lasts an hour, each army advancing, retreating, and fighting. they then return to the enclosure and form themselves in line, when forty black bullocks are brought in for the young braves to slaughter, by stabbing them behind the shoulder so that the skin should not be injured to make shields; some become maddened by the smell of blood, break loose and escape into the open country, the young braves following, and a regular race and uproar follows, creating quite a sensation; and when the night has come, great feasting takes place, and the sports of the day are at an end, and we return to our waggon, wondering what the people in england would think of such a sight of savage grandeur, as was never seen out of africa. the young intombies (girls) are all excitement to see their sweethearts so brave. these zulu maids are most of them good-looking, with teeth as white as snow, well-made in every limb, and graceful in their movements, very scantily dressed, a slight fringe in front being their only covering, but it is the fashion of the country. for several days these dances go on; those who have paid their respects to the king retire to their distant kraals, and fresh regiments arrive to go through the same performance. the english who may be at the station are allowed to be present, but they must keep out of the way, not to be mixed up with the troops, but they can take up any position they like, to have a good view of the proceedings. thursday, a lovely day. went up again to see the review with mr. and mrs. sykes and the coillards; found the king sitting on a chair in a bell-tent alone, facing the troops, who were in a circle as yesterday; he was naked with the exception of the tailed kilt. a few braves from his favourite regiment composed his bodyguard; the chief indunas were with their respective regiments of which they held command; the medicine doctor, clothed in a tiger-skin kaross and a large fur cap with ears of the same, marched up and down before the tent, proclaiming to the warriors the greatness of the king. the english ladies were invited into the tent, and stood beside and behind this dreaded monarch of this dreaded nation, for all other native tribes fear him. the military performance was similar to that of yesterday; rain came on and we returned to our waggons. ironstone and iron-conglomerate are plentiful over this part of the country; blue metamorphic rocks crop up between slate shale and quartz, similar to that of the tati gold-fields, in all directions. fine gold-dust is found in the rivers to the north, but no one is allowed to prospect. there are at the present time thirty traders at this station, and many hunters both english and boers are in the hunting-field, who must obtain permission from the king, and pay a licence in the form of a gun, horse, or any other article the king may accept. several of the boers have been abusing this privilege, which has caused the king to be very severe on the white man going in; some also have gone in under a shooting licence, and have been found prospecting for gold. this has offended lo-bengulu with the english, and makes him suspicious of all who visit his country. he is naturally partial to the english, and his sister nina is their champion if any get into trouble; many have been robbed up-country lately by the natives; amongst the number are byles, kirton, scott, webster, phillips, jacobs, and many others. friday. i saw the rev. mr. sykes, showed him my official letter, and went with him to the king to ask permission to pass through his country to the eastern boundary. he was sitting on an old champagne box, leaning back against the cattle kraal fence in his usual undress; immensely fat and tall, he looks every inch an african king. he heard my statement, but made no remark. mr. sykes sat on the ground by his side, and i took up my position in front, and began to smoke, waiting for an answer. some ten minutes later a little mashona boy brought on a piece of grass matting four large pieces of bullock's lights, that had been broiled over a fire, and a fork, advancing on hands and knees to his dreaded master, and placed them on the grass in front of his majesty, who took the fork, transfixing one after the other as they disappeared from sight in his capacious mouth, asking at the same time many questions on down country news, and how the queen was, and numerous other remarks. finding he did not intend to give any answer, i told mr. sykes we would leave him to say yes or no at some future time, that i did not come begging, but only asked for what i had a right to expect he would grant, and shaking hands we departed from his sable majesty, who was enjoying the heat of the sun as he sat on his old wooden throne. it was a very hot morning. thermometer degrees in my waggon, and in the sun must have registered at least degrees, but these black skins can stand any amount of heat; it seems to absorb it without creating any inconvenience. on my return i found mr. wood, with his two waggons outspanned close to mine, had pushed two of the chief indunas into a thorn hedge for calling him a dog; this has caused great commotion in the kotla, the king's kraal. mr. wood went to see the king, but he would not say a word, but i expect to-morrow something will be done. i visited some of the traders' stores and met mr. and mrs. elm there, who invited me over to visit them at their mission station, hope fountain, four miles distant, most pleasantly situated on the spur of the hill overlooking a vast stretch of country to the east; it is a most healthy locality. saturday, up all night, annoyed by wolves and dogs. mr. wood's affair came to nothing, as lo-bengulu would not interfere. he left this morning for umcano, also messrs. sykes and coillard with him, as he has not yet released the latter. i received a letter from rev. mr. thomas, of shiloh, enclosing letters for messrs. elm and coillard, and wishing me to visit him. three months ago lo-bengulu sent in an impi into the mashona country on a marauding expedition, where they attacked several kraals, killing the people, bringing back sixty slave children and all the cattle and goods belonging to them. a month previous a large impi went into the same district, where, as far as it can be ascertained, they killed all the old people, making some of the women and big girls carry the plunder to the boundary; then they made them put the things down on the ground and then killed them, because they might run away if brought into matabeleland; preserving the little children who were brought in because they soon forget the country they have left. the weather is rather warm, degrees, with heavy showers, storms round in every direction. several euphorbia trees are close to my waggon, that make a nice shade, and not far away there is a tree where a few months back three women and five children were hung for witchcraft, because one of the king's wives and two of his children had died the night previous, and a wolf was killed within the king's enclosure by his dogs; a kaffir supposed to have bewitched them was killed also. this occurred just before my arrival. at last year's dance, when warriors met, a black bull had his shoulder cut off when alive; this is a custom with the tribe on some occasions, but i could not ascertain the particulars. the king's wives do not pick in the corn gardens, but his children do, and also carry water the same as others; his reason is they must learn to do such things; and his daughters go naked like the other girls, and frequently pay my waggon a visit for tufa or tusa (present); sometimes they are seen walking about with black skin kilts. most of them are young, but they, as well as the women, wear few or no ornaments; very few beads are used, mostly pieces of leather strips round the neck and wrists, none on their legs or head, as is seen on other tribes. the matabele women do not seem to take so readily to clothes as all the other tribes, who are eager to be dressed up in petticoats, because i presume it gives them greater liberty of action in their loins, from their present cramped and bound-up state in their leather coverings. i was surprised one day, soon after my arrival here, on returning in the afternoon to my camp, to find four zulu girls sitting under my waggon, chatting and laughing with my hottentot driver and forelooper, having with them three fine bunches of beautiful ostrich feathers. when i looked under the waggon and they saw me, they all gave a yell of delight, and came out, when i recognised them as old friends who had frequently washed my clothes when i went to barkly, in griqualand west, two years back, and always admired their clean neat appearance in their white european clothes. they told me their mother, who was a widow woman, wanted to go back to her nation in matabeleland, and they had only lately arrived, having been on the road six months; and having heard of my arrival, they came to see me, and had brought me some ostrich feathers as a present, and as they knew my two boys they seemed to be at home again. i asked them what they had done with their clothes. they said they had them tied up in bundles and were in the hut occupied by their mother, where they lived, and as they were amongst their own people they dressed or undressed as the other girls. i found them to be very convenient, as they did my washing and other things for me. i took the feathers and paid them in beads, kerchiefs, tobacco for snuff, and such things they wanted as presents; they would not take them in payment, showing these people have some kind feeling; and during my stay at this station they remained with me the greater portion of every day, their old mother coming occasionally to pay me a visit. they could speak english perfectly; they told me they would like to go back with me if their mother would let them, but four grown-up girls in my waggon would have been too much of a good thing. i should occupy many months in returning, if i ever did, and it turned out that i did not visit barkly again for three years. if there had been women at this station wearing clothes, these girls would have retained theirs; it only shows the force of example. thursday, th. i arrived yesterday from exploring the country round, much delayed by the wet weather and heavy thunderstorms, which have lowered the temperature of the atmosphere down to degrees, and yet this is the height of summer up in the tropics, a difference of degrees in a few days; a great-coat is comfortable. i obtained a mashona blanket made of native cotton, also three battle-axes. lo-bengulu, last tuesday, himself took a burning piece of wood and destroyed the eyes and nose of one of his men because he threw a stone at a child and knocked out its front teeth; this was witnessed by one of the traders. and a short time previous he had one of his chief indunas and his three wives and three children killed, as it is stated, for witchcraft, but other reasons are supposed to have been the cause; their bones are lying a short distance from my waggon, having been picked clean by wolves; they are very plentiful here and visit us nightly, being on the look-out for human food, as all who are killed are thrown outside the station for them and the dogs to eat. lo-bengulu, at the same time, is very fond of children and will not allow them to be annoyed; he will not allow any milk to be sold by his people, but it is given to the slave children. a curious custom prevails amongst these people at the death of a relative. when any member of a family dies, he or she is immediately taken out of the kraal to some adjacent land and buried, sometimes in a sitting position. then for a week, and sometimes for a month, a fire is kept burning every night close to the grave, and two or more of the family have to remain there during that time. another curious custom is in existence in the king's kraal; there is a hut within the king's enclosure which no one is allowed to touch, not even to pull a straw from the thatch. if any one commits such an offence the king tells some of his people to take him out of the kraal, which is tantamount to ordering him to be killed. a short time ago a young kaffir was killed for committing this offence, and the wolves and dogs had a good feast that night. lo-bengulu has no heir to take his place when he dies, not having a royal wife, but if one of his wives should have a son, and he does not take to wife a princess, she with the child, immediately after its birth, will be banished, and have to live in a distant country; but still a watch is kept upon her, and in the event of the king dying, the mother and child will be brought back, and the child adopted by the people as their king. th. lo-bengulu came into the station this morning, and about warriors went out to meet him, dressed in all the pomp of war. his sister nina came in, in a horse-waggon, and the king with three waggons and forty loose horses, men, women and children following on foot, as the great national dance takes place on tuesday; all the other dances being rehearsals previous to this, which is the most important and imposing of all. tuesday, a very hot day. many divisions of the impi coming in from all quarters and marching up to the great camp; as this is the last day of the old year with this nation, they commemorate it by great national rejoicings. about twelve o'clock i walked up with several of the hunters and traders, and took up our position close to the entrance of the king's private grounds, when regiment after regiment came marching up, dressed in their war dress as before described, with shield and assagai, and took up their position so as to form an immense circle of ten and twelve deep, within the enclosure close to the king's kraal, who came out to show himself for a few minutes and retired. in the mean time, his wives, dressed in beads and bright yellow kerchiefs over their shoulders, and long black kilts or skirts down below the knees, young girls dressed in short kilts, and a profusion of ornaments round their loins, arms and heads, stepped into the open space within the circle of troops, and chanted songs, moving forward at the same time, the warriors singing and raising their shields up and down, keeping time with their feet. nina, the king's sister, came forward also, dressed in beads of many colours round her waist, back, and skirt, brass and gold chains, gold watch and chain. after a time lo-bengulu came forward with a dancing gait, and took the lead out of the station at the head of his own particular regiment or bodyguard, whose dress and shields are all black, each soldier not less than six feet, followed by the other regiments, when they formed into three sides of a square. then the king came forward, surrounded by his bodyguard, and threw an assagai at an imaginary enemy, when all the troops were instantly in motion and returned to the open space in the enclosure, when the rain came down so fast that it put a stop to further proceedings. but previous to the king's leaving, about oxen were driven out of the circle where they had been kept by the whole of the impi, and were soon slaughtered for the great feast that was to come off that night. altogether it was a pretty and novel sight, and if the weather had been fine, the effect would have been most singular and striking. some women and girls stood in groups to witness the performances. the women who danced held sticks ten feet in length with the bark peeled off; the slave population looked on at a distance. i made the best of my way to mr. peterson's store, where i found mr. and mrs. elm, mr. and mrs. coillard and the sister, and took cake and coffee with them, and then to my waggon which was outspanned on the opposite hill. the programme for this review was upon a much grander scale than the former already described. the next day the troops returned to the respective military camps, and the last of the military dances ended in a downpour of rain, amidst crashing thunder and flash after flash of the most vivid lightning i have seen for a long time. on the th january, i called on lo-bengulu for an answer to my request; he was sitting under his verandah on a chair. we shook hands, and he stated he could not allow me to cross his country, because if i attempted to do so the people would kill me and he would be blamed by the english for the cause of my death; that if i wanted the things i wished to go in for he would try and get them, and send them down to the governor; that i should never return if i went in, for the mashonas would destroy me and he could not help it. this i saw was mere excuse; he had stated the same thing to others, but it was useless to argue the point with him, and to go in without his sanction would have been madness, as the country at the present time is in a very unsettled state, as colonel saltmarsh, whom i met on the maclutsie river, as i was going in and he was coming out, told me how he had been treated by the people, and his boys became frightened, he was obliged to return; that he was disgusted with his trip and was glad to get away. he also told me lo-bengulu will not allow any one to go beyond his station. messrs. bray and wood took a letter from sir theophilus shepstone, the administrator of the transvaal, to the king, asking as a favour to allow them to go in, but the king refused point blank, and stated while he is king no one shall ever go into the mashona country. one hunter had his waggon turned over and all his things stolen, and when complaining to the king of his people's conduct, his reply was he did not tell them to do it, and he got no satisfaction; not very encouraging for my success, therefore i was prepared in some degree for a refusal. i believe the colonel had a gun stolen from him also. at any rate he did not intend to go without his christmas pudding if he had proceeded, for on the banks of the maclutsie where i met him, he was preparing a very fine one, and asked me to join him in disposing of it. the next day we parted, the colonel for the south and i for the north, to try my luck with this powerful and despotic monarch. and as affairs turned out it was a lucky refusal for me, for a few months after, as i was exploring the western portion of the mashona country, reports came to us by a native that three white men had been killed in the mashona country, not so many miles away, by the natives, but they could not give the names. but afterwards, on my return to the tati, i found they were captain patterson, mr. sargeant, son of sir w. sargeant, the crown agent, and formerly colonial secretary of natal, and a son of the rev. mr. thomas, of shiloh, who had left the transvaal a few months before with a letter from sir theophilus shepstone on a mission from him to the matabele king. at the time there was great mystery concerning their death; it was first reported they had been poisoned by drinking from a pond that had been poisoned by the bakalahari bushmen, but that was absurd. it appears that captain patterson had entered into some agreement with lo-bengulu which was not pleasing to the indunas, therefore to put an end to the agreement it was arranged to put an end to them. rumours of foul play got abroad, and young mr. thomas, son of the missionary at shiloh, who was one of the three, went as guide; he was warned, but would not believe the report. mr. palmer, who was going to accompany them, also heard strange rumours, and he declined, which saved his life. the very fact of rumours of foul play going to be perpetrated was proof that their death had been planned before they were on their way to the zambese to visit the victoria falls, and as confirmation of this, lo-bengulu said afterwards to some of the white people, "now captain patterson is dead, the agreement goes for nothing." it is supposed the three were killed when they were bathing, but no document was found amongst captain patterson's effects to throw light on this matter, and mr. thomas, the father, was afraid to express any opinion, or to have a full inquiry made in the affair, as he was living in the country and would have been killed if he had said what he thought. he died last year. that they were murdered there is no question. captain patterson was in the employ of the british government, and was in matabeleland on official duties, therefore it was the duty of the government to investigate the matter and to have sent up an officer competent to carry it out, instead of making inquiries of the british residents on the spot, who dare not speak what they knew, and to have given lo-bengulu to understand that british subjects were not to be murdered in his territory with impunity. it is this shirking of responsibilities that lead to dire results, and is unbecoming the dignity of a great nation like great britain. this has been the fatal policy of the british government in south africa, which has caused the misery and bloodshed that has swept over south africa these last few years, and paralysed the whole trade of the country. it is not only detrimental to the colony, but our british workmen at home suffer, from the stoppage of the trade to those regions that so largely consume british merchandise. if the people of england were to look a little more into these matters, instead of wasting their time in that petty party spirit which seems to be on the increase, and devote that time in improving and developing our trade in our colonies and elsewhere, it would be more conducive to their welfare than employing it in quibbling over who should have votes or not, and woman's suffrage, that will not bring one penny more into the pockets of the people; and such other trifling matters, unprofitably employing the time of the house of commons, which should be devoted to the general interests of our country abroad, and in our colonies, that are the main source of our prosperity and wealth, which means, in other words, full employment for our workpeople; for no other policy will put bread into their mouths. if this contemptible party spirit, which has now grown rampant, should increase, england's greatness is on the wane, for where a house is divided against itself, it cannot stand. this spirit, of opposition in time becomes a mania, and the most vital interests of our country are sunk in the glory, as they imagine, of turning out their opponents from office. i hope all who wish for the prosperity of great britain will rise to the occasion and become what their forefathers were, staunch and determined upholders of british interests, which means prosperity to her people, where the weal of great britain is concerned, and sink that petty and unpatriotic spirit. my fate most probably would have been similar to those unfortunate men, as it was known i was on a mission into that country also. i might have gone and never been heard of more, a satisfactory conclusion to arrive at. the mashona country in the north is but little-known, from the difficulty thrown in the way of exploring it, particularly along the south side of the river zambese; gold in large quantities is known to be there, as also other minerals. on the north side of the river gold has been found, but until some better mode of transit is adopted, such as a single line of railway, with shuntings at stated distances, the richness of these regions cannot be developed. a railway would revolutionise the whole country, to the immense advantage of our cape colony and great britain, and the civilisation of the native tribes. when lo-bengulu became king, in january, , it was supposed the rightful heir to the throne, "kuruman," born from a royal wife of moselikatze, was dead, killed by order of his father, as it appears there was a conspiracy amongst the indunas to dethrone him, and place kuruman in his place. moselikatze, hearing of this, as he was out with an army making conquest in the northern part of the mashona country, immediately returned and made an attack on a kraal where these indunas had assembled, inthaba inisduna, and slaughtered them and all the people, except lo-bengulu, who was his son by another wife, but made a royal child--and with those slaughtered, it was supposed kuruman was one, but it was found afterwards he had escaped. moselikatze sent for him, and ordered a basuto to take him away and destroy him, but he was not to injure his person, that one belonging to royalty should not be mangled. kuruman's servant was also commissioned to assist in the murder. when it was accomplished, as is supposed, these two men returned to the king and reported his death, but it is supposed by others that he was allowed to escape, and that he found his way down to natal, and became a servant of the honourable theophilus shepstone, the minister of native affairs in that colony, and nothing more was heard of him for some years. still the matabele were much divided respecting lo-bengulu becoming king, and many military stations would not acknowledge him; the consequence was, a general slaughter took place, and kraal after kraal were visited by the king's troops, killing man, woman, and child, depopulating large districts, and after some time reduced the number of his opponents to a few, but still never entirely crushing them out, or destroying all who still clung to the hope of getting rid of lo-bengulu. many of the men spared in these fights were incorporated in the army that remained true to the king. soon after it was reported that kuruman was alive in natal; messengers were sent down to ascertain the fact; and also some refugees stated he was kuruman. he denied he was the kuruman, but afterwards, in , acknowledged he was, and departed for the north to claim his rights. the last time i heard of him he was at rustenburg in the transvaal. the doubt that has hung over lo-bengulu, as to his really being the right man, has made him very watchful, and it seems this supposed kuruman is still looking out for an opportunity to enter the matabeleland and try his luck, but lo-bengulu is too securely settled on his throne to be easily deposed. at the death of moselikatze, waggon-loads full of presents of every description, presents from those who had visited his country, and payments for the privilege of hunting in his veldt, became the property of lo-bengulu, and were thatched to preserve them from the weather, never to be used, because the great king had ridden in them; the empty ones were destroyed at the burial of the king; taking those loaded to gebbeklaiko, now called gubuluwayo or bulowaiyo, where the royal widow of moselikatze went to reside after the death of her husband, and also where lo-bengulu took up his royal residence, which he has occupied up to the time when it was recently destroyed. he has several kraals in different parts of the country that he visits from time to time, for a change. mr. and mrs. coillard are still here, not yet having obtained their release, but expect it daily. mr. sykes has been indefatigable in the affair, and clearly explained the object of his visit to establish several french missionary stations throughout the mashona country under native teachers. but lo-bengulu, although very kind to the english missionaries, is not a believer in their faith, and his people are very much of the same opinion, consequently there are few converts. all the districts are visited by them. mr. sykes and also mr. thomas have for the last twenty-eight years been at much trouble, but cannot convert them. they have their great spirit, molemo, and with their medicine-men to make rain for them, they seem contented to remain. in the afternoon i left for thabo induna, which is the place where the massacre of the indunas took place under moselikatze previously mentioned, and then on to umzamalas town to inzalion, but as mr. and mrs. sykes were with the king, went on to mr. george wood, an old traveller and hunter, who showed me several pieces of gold he had procured from the near quartz reef, and some gold-dust he had himself washed from the changani river. the whole of this region down to the zambese is a gold-bearing country. but what seems very remarkable, no instruments or anything has been found to lead to the time when this part of the mashona country was overrun by this supposed white race, but a time may come when prospecting may be allowed, that will throw more light upon this subject. these old diggings may have been worked by the queen of sheba's people, and subsequently by a white race. it is very clear, there must have been a different race from the present, that worked the ground for gold in these parts, several hundred years ago; from the ruins now standing, i think proves they may have been the same under the name of abbalomba. besides the gold-mines in other districts, which will be described in dealing with the adjoining kingdom of umzela, there are other indications of the presence of a civilised people in remote times; throughout this region known as the royaume du quiteve, and etats du monomotapa, the residence of the emperor quiteve, and also to the north is the ville royal du monomotapa, which is situated in ancient portuguese maps as being in the northern division of the mashona country, on the south side of the zambese, under the name monomotapa, in the abutua and banyai regions; the emperor of whom, in , was conquered by the portuguese, so they say, and ceded his dominion to them. now it is an interesting question, what tribe or nation did these emperors spring from? it appears certain that they must have been in possession of the country long before the portuguese rounded the cape of good hope, and proceeded as far north up the east coast to mozambique, including quillimane and delagoa bay, in , under vasco de gama; but he made no settlements on the coast at that time. bartholomew diaz, in , rounded the cape and proceeded as far east as algoa bay, and planted a cross on st. croix island, then on to the great fish river, and returned. sofala was visited by a portuguese traveller from abyssinia in . in , the portuguese began to form settlements on the west coast; , town of mozambique taken by the portuguese under tristan d'acunha; , portuguese proceed with their conquests on east coast, and in , conquer sofaia. therefore it was impossible for the portuguese to establish themselves to any great extent on the coast-line, much before the time it is stated they conquered the emperor of mouomotapa. a venetian map published in gives an outline of the zambese river and the central african lakes, and i have an ancient map of africa showing several lakes in that region, particularly lake tanganyika, which very correctly shows its true position, clearly proving that it was discovered long before livingstone or any other modern explorer ever visited that central region. were these monomotapa people black or white, and from whence did they come? they were evidently a separate people from those who now occupy the country. may not an arab tribe have passed down along the east coast, and established themselves in the mashona region, and formed a kingdom? for the word emperor is not a word used by any african races south of the zambese, and none, i believe, except they are of arab blood, or closely connected with that race. there is at present that tribe mentioned in my description of the northern kalahara desert, on the quito and cubango, to the north of my explorations, that are termed white; may not this remnant be descendants of the monomotapa people, and those white the mashonas call "abbalamba," who may also have formed a part of the emperor quiteve's people? the broad zambese river would have been a very enticing stream for any tribe to follow up, who were coming down south to settle, and they may have introduced the arab customs, and also jewish customs, amongst the people. now it is well known the mashonas are excellent mechanics, workers in metals, excellent blacksmiths, and they manufacture blankets from the cotton fibre, which no other nation in the south of central africa does--may not this knowledge have been handed down from this white race? give one of these mashonas a piece of gold, and ask him to make you a ring; it will soon be done, and done well. i am surprised no englishman has ever thought of exploring the zambese from its mouth to the victoria falls, with canoes; it could be accomplished without much difficulty, and a most interesting and pleasant trip it would be, returning by road to the colony by the transport road the whole way; much valuable information would be obtained that might throw some light on this interesting subject. to do it by land would be much more difficult, the many rivers to cross, swamps and thick jungle to pass through, sleeping at night on the ground would cause fever, and as my map and others will show, it has never been explored. livingstone followed it down part of the way, and there he lost his wife. the distance from the mouth to the falls is about miles. the old forts on the umvuli, with the old gold-diggings, along the base of the leputa and lobolo mountains on the mlebka river, kambesa, nuntigesa, mandou, zimbo, piza and many others in the mashona country on the east; and to the west of the sabia river, near each, are extensive old diggings, and on the ingwezi river there are very perfect ruins, but completely enclosed in bush; the walls are extensive and thick, all of them built of hewn granite, and laid in regular courses; another on the nuanettie river, to the west of the woohu mountain, is a very good specimen of these ancient forts, situated on a rocky eminence, well defended on all sides, and also covered in by trees and bush. the zimbo, or zimbase, ruins of an old fort are situated on a small branch of the sabia river, in degrees minutes south latitude. a short distance from its banks there are several low walls on an open space, but the most extensive is that situated on a low granite hill; the walls are about eight feet thick and five feet in height in the lower portion, the upper part measures twenty feet, and forms a sort of round tower very similar to the ruins on the tati, which have been described; the walls are built of hewn granite stone, and in regular layers; on the inside there are several beams inserted in the walls projecting eight feet, composed of a hard and fine-grained stone of a dark colour. upon one of them are carvings, diamond-shaped, one within another, separated by wavy lines; they are much overgrown by shrubs and creepers, and seem to be of the same date, and erected by the same people as those already described. several old gold-diggings are in the vicinity. altogether these ancient forts, that are so largely distributed over these regions, are most interesting, and when this country is more developed and better understood, they may lead to discoveries that may throw more light upon the subject. that the portuguese did deal largely with the natives in gold is clearly established, and if all these ruined forts were their work, they must have occupied the country in very considerable numbers, which seems hardly likely, because there is no record of their having done so to the extent which these ruins show. the kingdom of tarva is supposed to have been in these regions. i have not met with any ruins yet that would lead me to suppose they were once the palace of the queen of sheba. i do not think that walls six or eight feet thick, built of small hewn stone without mortar, would stand as perfect as they are the wear and tear of four thousand years, in a country subject to such storms as sweep over this region in the rainy season. the only relics i have found are broken pieces of pottery, containing much mica, and the well-worn stones the natives used to crush their corn, which must have been in use many years, as they are hollowed out almost like basins, and the round stone the size of a cricket-ball, much worn on one side in pounding the grain. one ancient grave i opened, but found nothing but a spear-head of iron, that crumbled to pieces when handled; the bones had disappeared. i may mention, when prospecting in the channels worn in the beds of the rivers by the water, i have found a great many copper beads mixed up in the gravel and sand, and a piece of silver, that looks like part of a bar, about half an inch square and an inch in length, that was also lying in the bed of the river close to the ruins of the old fort on the ingwazi river. the watershed that divides the zambese and limpopo basins runs in a north-east and south-west direction, like the backbone of an animal; the spurs representing the ribs, but in places the hill is broken up, as at gubuluwayo and the country round. the rivers that drain each basin take their rise within a few yards of each other, on the south of the king's kraal. all the elevated portions of the country are healthy, the lower parts are subject to fever to europeans in the rainy season, but when the country is occupied by an industrious race, and cleared of bush and drained, it will become as healthy in time as any other portion of africa, being so elevated above sea-level, viz. feet. it cannot be so very unhealthy, when mr. and mrs. sykes have lived at inyatine twenty-eight years, and have enjoyed good health; mr. and mrs. thomas, also, for the same time; and at hopefountain, the two missionaries and their families have enjoyed good health for many years, and at gubuluwayo the traders have no more sickness than if they lived in any other part of the country considered healthy. since my last journey into matabeleland, lo-bengulu has taken to himself a royal wife, the sister of the zulu chief umzela, whose territory adjoins the western boundary of the matabele king, and occupies all the country down to the east african coast, not in the occupation of the portuguese. this naturally was not very agreeable to his sister nina, who ruled supreme in her brother's court, during the time he had no royal wife, which must have made it unpleasant for both parties. i am not acquainted with the particulars, but i suppose the king deemed it expedient to get rid of this annoyance, adopted his usual plan, for he gave orders to some of his people to take his sister away, which is tantamount to ordering her to be killed, but no royal blood must be spilt or the body mutilated; consequently she was taken away and smothered. his royal residence at gubuluwayo has been destroyed, and a new military camp formed at some distance from it. his new residence is built in the european style, much larger than the former, containing several fine rooms; the principal apartment is capable of holding over people, substantially built of brick, with thatched roof, erected by europeans. the matabele who calls himself kuruman, the son of moselikatze, and was supposed to have been killed previous to his father's death, has claimed the kingship, and has many followers, which may eventually lead to much bloodshed. a railway will do more to civilise the people in the interior and increase trade than any other means that could be adopted to improve the natives and open up the country. lo-bengulu is very favourably disposed towards the english, as i have before stated; what has made him severe on some, is his having lost confidence in many who have gone into his country, and abused the privileges granted to them, which naturally has shaken his good faith in all who visit matabeleland. when he knows he can depend on any, he is exceedingly friendly, and will do much for them, as in the case of the late mr. thomas baines, the traveller, who from his honourable, upright, and straightforward conduct, gained the king's confidence. the result was, he granted a large concession of his country to him, for working and exploring for gold, and signed a document to that effect, showing that if properly treated he will do good to those who act fair towards him. there are a few old hunters who have for years lived up in matabeleland, and have the king's confidence, from acting towards him in an upright and honest way, and have become almost natives of the country; they belong to the old stock of hunters that are fast passing away; only a few are now remaining that could be called hunters of the old days of moselikatze time, and which formed a little community in themselves. those were days of real enjoyment, when game was plentiful, and the country not overrun as it is now by a different class of people altogether. those good old times were before the discovery of diamonds, when even griqualand west was an unknown land to the colonist. mr. g. westbeach is now living on the banks of the zambese; mr. g. phillips is, i believe, there also; messrs. byles, wood, lisk are now in other parts, and one or two more are all that are left of the old stock of _bona-fide_ hunters. at that time they formed a little society in themselves, hired a small farm called little england, where they would meet once a year or as often as circumstances would call them down from the interior, to procure fresh stock in exchange for ivory, feathers, and other articles. each member had to undergo fresh baptism in the way of a souse in a large bath made in the water sluit in front of the house, clothes and everything on, and pay his footing in the way of a certain quantity of brandy or square face (gin). when i entered the brotherhood i was suffering with a severe attack of influenza, and consequently was excused the bath, by paying double footing in spirits; keeping up commemoration night till late in the morning, which cured me of my cold. all is changed now--the country has been of late overrun by traders from the diamond-fields; boers from the transvaal, who have unscrupulously abused the native laws of matabeleland, and made the king doubly severe on all who enter his dominions, and caused the indunas to look upon all white men as dogs, which has damaged the prestige of the white man in the eyes of the natives, and lo-bengulu, who is ruled to a certain extent by them, cannot always do as he would wish. natives are very susceptible of insult, and as the boers treat all black men as dogs, and in some way insult them, which they do not forget, this has frequently brought the english traveller or hunter into trouble. lo-bengulu respects the english nation, and has a loyal feeling towards her majesty the queen, and as all bechuanaland has been brought under her protection, now is the time for the british government to show this sable monarch and his people, by our acts in bechuanaland, that england's policy is not to exterminate the black man, but to protect, assist, and benefit him, which policy is the only one to bring lo-bengulu and his people into a better frame of mind regarding england's views towards them, and the only course to eventually open up that country to civilisation. at the present time they fear a boer invasion, and as they are renowned for their political sagacity, they will be too wise to offend the english people, who may shortly be living on their borders. but if boers are allowed to settle in bechuanaland then we may say farewell to peace in that region. all now depends on the course the british government adopt in this new protectorate. lo-bengulu and his indunas, i believe, will not interfere or be troublesome on the border of this protectorate, if they see we respect the rights of the black man in the future of that country, and, instead of having the matabele in any way troublesome, they will become our friends. i see a great future open for that country, which will materially benefit the native races, and be the means of developing that vast region now closed to british merchandise, for that is the great civilising power by teaching the native mind the advantages they will derive from commerce. whatever cruelty lo-bengulu may perpetrate in his own country, will not extend further; he was brought up under the dreaded chief, his father, who ruled his people through their blood, for no other mode of governing them would have availed. but the people are beginning to understand the english ways, in the same manner as the zulus do in zululand. thursday, st may. walked over to old john viljoen's waggon, where he was outspanned under some large trees surrounded by a thick bush, completely concealing the waggons from view; his son and a boer were making kameel biltong, having shot one yesterday. he is now waiting for the weather to clear up, to have some elephant shooting, his son having seen eight, about six miles away, in the morning. talking of elephant shooting, he said he had shot seventy-nine at different times, and he told me, a scotchman, mr. thackery, had shot ninety-nine, and in shooting the hundredth, when the animal laid apparently dead, he climbed up him over his head, when the elephant gave him a blow with his tusk and killed him on the spot. we arranged to go out together on monday. he also told me he shot a python, a few days ago, measuring eighteen feet in length, and twenty-eight inches round; he saw several others, but they got away. on returning to the waggon i found a trader, mr. mussenden, with his waggon outspanned close to it, who was surprised to see me, having long ago heard that i had been murdered by bushmen up in the interior, that it was reported throughout all the country, and everything stolen; he said he had often heard of my being in the interior, and through the desert, when he was up-country, but never expected to see me alive again, and was very glad we had met, as he often wished to know me. many such reports get about of explorers and hunters being murdered or lost in the bush; and it requires great care to avoid some of these dangers in so extensive a region, particularly to those who have not the bump of locality. when leaving your waggon, in the saddle or on foot, before starting, be particular to take bearings of mountains or any prominent objects. when the sun is perpendicular at mid-day, it is difficult to know the north from the south, and if you have left your compass behind, those unaccustomed to be in a wooded region soon become confused as to the direction to be taken to regain their waggon. several, whom i knew, have lost their lives in this way, and were never heard of more. a young man, william hancock, i had with me as my driver, when outspanned in a level country, with dense bush, took his gun early in the morning to look after game, and never returned all that day, and night coming on, i began to fear for his safety; the whole of that night i was in a fearful state of alarm, firing shot after shot to let him know our position, but no reply; i got no sleep that night. at daybreak i saddled-up and started in the direction he took, firing shots frequently, and i sent my loop-boy out in another direction. after calling and shouting until nearly losing my voice, up to p.m., a distant report came to my last shot; starting off in the direction at as great a speed as i could make in the thick forest for at least a mile, i fired again, when a reply came at no great distance. going towards it and shouting, i heard a faint voice in amongst the trees, and hancock came towards me; he was nearly demented, and looked as if he had grown ten years older. before asking any questions, i gave him a flask full of brandy and water, and some biscuits which i brought with me. he told me he had been in a pursuit of a koodoo he had wounded, and in the chase had lost the direction of the waggon, and in his endeavour to reach it had wandered in the opposite direction and became so confused that he did not know where he was, firing off his rifle at times to let us know, but the distance prevented the reports being heard, and as night came on he gave himself up as lost, and climbed a tree, where he passed the night, as many lions were about; some of them came almost under the tree. in the morning he got down, fired off several shots, until he had only two charges left. he said his anxiety made him lose his strength, and from want of water and food he was nearly exhausted, and when he heard the report of my rifle he felt he was saved from death, and obtained renewed strength and fired his last cartridge, which brought me to him. mounting him in the saddle, we returned to the waggon, distant at least four miles. now this young man, born in the colony, accustomed all his life to being out in the open air after game, had no knowledge of taking bearings from time to time, to see the direction he was going; the poor boy--for he was only nineteen--felt he had gained a new life. i gave him a few lessons on woodcraft for his future guidance if placed in a similar position. he was a most willing lad and of great assistance to me in my wanderings; he was a son of one of the early settlers of . finally, we may conclude, in leaving this region, that the knowledge already obtained of the richness of the matabele and mashona country by exploring parties that have been allowed to prospect, only in certain districts, and by others who have travelled through it in other parts, and from my own observations, there is not a shadow of a doubt that eventually this part of the continent will surpass all others in southern africa as a gold-producing district, in the cultivation of cotton, and other valuable products, that cannot but prove most beneficial to the power who may obtain it; and to the benefit of its people, instead of its remaining in its present barbarous state, where the slaughter of its inhabitants depends on the present whims of its despotic monarch. from what has already been discovered of its richness, we see plainly the ancients, who extracted the gold, have only done so to a limited extent--what may be termed surface workings; for their numerous pits, after all, are mere scratches in the ground at places, but when they are properly worked and greater depth attained, the mines may be found almost inexhaustible. and if the gold-dust, found in the sand of the rivers, can be procured by a few single washings from a small dish, what may be expected when the whole of these rivers have been properly worked? chapter twenty four. the physical geographical features of that region, lying between the matabele and mashona country, and the indian ocean, now under the rule of the chief umzela and other chiefs. this extensive portion of south central africa abuts on the north-east boundary of the transvaal, the eastern boundary of the mashona and matabeleland, and the zambese in the north, up to degrees minutes east longitude. on the east by the indian ocean, and on the south by the portuguese possessions at delagoa bay. the main watershed passing through the mashona country, which divides the limpopo from the zambese river, in degrees minutes south latitude, turns east and separates the waters flowing into the zambese, through the mazoe river, from that which flows into the sabia, runs south down to degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, when it turns easterly and north-east, and enters the south side of sofala bay. this river has many tributaries on the west, draining a portion of the mashona country, but on the eastern bank there are few, and those but small. the most important river is the buzi, taking its rise from many small tributaries in a hilly district, to the east of the sabia in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, on a tributary of which the umsweleze, the chief umzela's kraal, is situated; the buzi from this point takes a sweep round in a north-east direction, and enters the indian ocean in degrees minutes south latitude, passing through the sofala region, between this latter river and the sabia. the garogesi river enters sofala bay. there are several small rivers north of the buzi to the mouth of the zambese, that drain the coast-line, which is very flat and marshy. the tributaries of the zambese are the zangwe, sankatsi, mowila--the main branch of the mazoe enters the river below tette--nake, zingesi, and panyame. in the northern portion, between the mashona and zambese, are many isolated and extensive hills,--vimga, nadsu, and vimiga, drained by the nake and zingesi. to the east of these hills is the lobolo mountain, with its many spurs, and more to the east the moltkeberg, drained by the mazoe and its tributaries, gaverese, upa, janhambe, jankatse, and others of smaller note, all which are in the zambese basin, which includes also--lower down that river--the mowila, sankatsi, and zangwe. the country towards the sea is flat and most uninteresting. there are several low ranges of hills in outlying districts. the country generally is dense bush, and full of game. the portuguese possessions do not extend many miles beyond the south bank of the zambese river. the chiefs in those districts claim up to that line. the altitude of the lombolo mountain is feet, and the moltkeberg feet above sea-level. the general rise of the country is feet, gradually sloping towards the zambese and coast. the northern division is divided into different tribes under their respective chiefs. the banyai country is between the mashona and zambese, in which is situated the portuguese town of tette, on the banks of the zambese. pretty and picturesque country around, with fruit of every kind, melons, oranges, lemons, sweet potatoes, pines, and every kind of vegetable; but the portuguese are so lazy that everything is left almost to nature. the river is navigable for small steamers for seventy miles above tette, which is situated miles from its mouth. magnificent timber trees grow in the valleys, and on the slopes of the hills ivory palm, mali palm, the palm that grows to the height of eighty feet; the seed of the fruit is eaten by the natives; it grows in the uplands, and down on the low-lying swampy country. mashola, a tree that bears a round fruit similar to the kaffir orange. the india-rubber tree is very common; the fruit can be eaten. the umtonto tree is used for making baskets and other things. large tracts of country are covered with the mowasha bush, mahogany, and ebony up in the hill districts, and all similar trees found growing in the mashona country are found there. there are many native villages along the banks of the several streams, the country being very thickly populated, particularly in the hill districts, and the people are industrious and skilful workmen in all branches of trade, and they make their own blankets from the wild cotton and baobab tree, which they work by hand, the former by having the yarn spun by hand with a small stick, weighted at the end; four sticks are stuck in the ground to form a kind of loom, the yarn stretched tight, and being wound on a piece of wood, is passed backwards and forwards, the strands being threaded, to allow the woof to pass through and through by a backward movement of the hand. they can make blankets the usual size, and very white and strong. they also manufacture bands of various sizes for native uses. the blankets made from the bark of the tree, and bags to hold milk, are very strong and beautifully made. the females are fond of ornamenting their persons, wearing copper and brass rings round their necks, on their legs and arms, and some have silver, which i was told is got out of the mountains. gold is found in all the mines in the banyai country; the natives sell it to the portuguese at tette, and quartz reefs cross the country in many districts; several portions have not yet been visited, consequently the richness of this region is not known. on the mountains and high lands the country is healthy, but the low-lying ground in the rainy season is very unhealthy. portuguese native traders are the only ones that go into those extensive regions, and supply the population with beads, brass wire, and other things in exchange for the gold-dust they procure from the rivers. there is an old fort on the mazoe river, under the lobolo mountains, and several others higher up that have been partly destroyed by the natives for walls for their gardens, where they plant small fields of cotton to make their blankets; a little piece is so occupied adjoining their huts, and it is found to grow very well in elevated positions. i have found it wild as high as feet above the sea-level, in a light soil, where water is not found near, but in the low lands it is very plentiful. south of the banyai country is the batoka, in which is the moltkaberg, watered by the upa river, a tributary of the luenya. the source of the mazoe rises on the watershed in this region, at the sakaloko kraal, in degrees minutes south latitude. another spring issues close to mebka kraal, and at gangwesi kraal, at an elevation of feet above the sea, and flows north, on which there are many villages, close to several large vleis, and towards the east is the large kraal of the chief makombes on the mewila river. there are also many other native kraals situated on all the branches of this river down to the zambese, and along its banks, senna being the most important, where there are several hills that skirt it. the batoka tribe is numerous--a fine, powerful race. the country is full of bush and fine timber, the same which grows in the banyai district. on the east of batoka is the senna region, which reaches to the zambese and to its mouth, and along the eastern coast, down to where the sofala joins it. all that is known of this country is that it is very flat and low; and within its boundary, on the banks of the zambese, dr. livingstone's wife was taken ill and died, and was buried on its banks under a baobab tree, a little below the town of shupanga, and opposite to the town of mulu. forty miles above the great river shire branches off, which flows from lake shirwa, in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. there are few hills in this part of the country of any note. cotton grows abundantly, and vegetation is coarse and rank in the swamps. on the south of batoka is birue. this region joins up to the mashona country, the sabia being the boundary, senna on the east, and sofala on the south. the sabia river rises in degrees minutes south latitude, near the village of sakalato, and flows south as before stated. upon the banks are kambesa, gansuma, umsosa, kambiss, and others. the country is high, with hills of no great extent, thickly wooded, with abundance of large game of every kind; palms, baobab, mahogany, ebony, mapari, india-rubber, and a variety of other trees. the valley along the river is very pretty and picturesque, well cultivated by the natives, and produces every kind of vegetable. the people are civil, but very inquisitive, and great beggars. white cotton seems to be much in demand. the land gradually descends towards the ocean, until the flat and swampy country is reached. to the south of birue is the district of quitive, a portion of sofala that joins up to the sabia, on the south by umselayon region. this district is supposed to be the kingdom of the queen of sheba. manica is the principal kraal, near which are several ancient ruins, and the remains of a tower a few miles to the north-west of manica. it stands on high ground, feet above sea-level, which descends to the east, and not far from the ruins is a large sheet of water, also several plains on the south of manica. the population is a mixed race, composed of umgovis, who are part zulus, mandowas, basigas, batagas, mashonas, and others, who are under the chief umzela. there are extensive open grass-lands, and the low-lying country is healthy during five months of the winter, when there is no fear of taking the fever. thirty miles south of manica the land rises to feet. to the east of this district is the sofala region, in which the portuguese town and port of sofala are situated. the town is but a poor place, as all the portuguese towns are on this coast; but they command all the trade of the up districts, which is considerable in ivory, skins, a few ostrich feathers, and other products of the country. it is situated in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude. the country at the back of the town is hilly, occupied by the mandowa tribe, and is more healthy. the river bozi flows through it to the sea, well-wooded with fine timber and bush. elephants, rhinoceros, and large game abound. rice, cotton, spices of all kinds, oranges, lemons, citrons, bananas, figs, and wild fruit. i was told that umzela, the chief who occupies the country south, claims as paramount chief all those districts in the north, down to the mandanda region; but his claim is something similar to that of the portuguese, who lay claim to all south africa to the atlantic ocean, from sofala. he must be content to put up with such regions as he now has power to govern; and those countries north of birue are independent, except such portions along the coast and up the zambese as the portuguese have the power to rule, which is not much beyond the guns at their so-called forts. with respect to any extensive or strong stone remains of ancient cities, supposed to have belonged to the love-sick queen, there are none, beyond those that have been erected without mortar. if this district formed part of her kingdom where she resided, her palace must have been small, and of no account. if substantial buildings had been erected, they would surely be there now, as the natives with the means at their disposal could not have destroyed them; but what is so remarkable is that no relics have been found of any kind, no rubbish left where they may have stood. the only one i discovered was in a stream of the sabia, where the copper beads were found. it was an oval piece of copper, the size of a sixpence, and as thick, with much defaced marks on both sides that cannot be made out, being so much worn. to pronounce it a coin would be premature. when the country is properly prospected, there may be found sufficient evidence to settle this long-disputed question; but if extensive ruins existed, the natives would know, and it would soon have reached the ears of travellers that have passed through that country. there must be some foundation for these ancient traditional reports. the country shows that in remote times gold in large quantities has been extracted from the earth, and if it is so easily found in the rivers, why should not nuggets have been found lying on the surface, which first drew the attention of the ancients to look for it. the name of the river flowing through this region, the "sabia," may have been changed by time from "sheba," the same as "sofala" for "s'ophir." there is also a ruin called piza, and another manica, two names foreign to the other names of the country; and the region of monomotapa may have received its name from some early inhabitants, descendants of the people under this renowned queen. at present nothing is definite on this point, and the magnificence of her palaces have been, much overrated in ancient history. if this was the real ophir of solomon, the arabs along the coast and at sofala believe this to be the true ophir, umzela was the great chief of all that part of the country known as the birue, quitive, sofala, and mandanda regions. his chief kraal, utshani, is situated in degrees minutes south latitude, degrees minutes east longitude, between lofty hills, the altitude being feet by aneroid barometer, and it is situated on the upper source of the buzi river, which flows in a north-east direction and enters the indian ocean on the north of the town and port of sofala. the country is very fertile, and the banks of the sabia on the west of the town, through which that river meanders in a south direction, is flanked by high and picturesque hills, and clothed in all the beauty of tropical vegetation. mahogany, ebony, untanto, palm, umchani, maparri, umsimbili, bananas, assagaai or lance wood, barrie, boschlemon, wild almond, kajaten (a fine black wood), knopjes doorn, wild olive, saffraan, fig, cabbage tree, makwakwe (the strychnine of the country), vitboom (quinine), india-rubber, and a host of other sorts that would fill a page if named, all most valuable for various purposes. large flocks of sheep and goats and herds of cattle are reared. there is also the large game, such as elephants, rhinoceros, giraffes, buffaloes, koodoos, and other large antelopes, lions, tigers, wolves, jackals, tiger-cats in plenty, beside the various earth-animals, ant-bears, porcupines, armadillos, and many others. umzela's territory is called umselayon, which embraces all those districts above described. the mountains which completely encircle the chief's kraal are very picturesque and peculiar in their form, making the sinika river a tributary of the buzi; which forms in its course almost a circle, thickly studded with fine timber and bush, and they do not extend much beyond the river towards the east, which is a low, flat country to the sea. the portuguese have no control over any part of umzela's territory; they only hold possession of narrow slips of land along parts of the coast. the natives offered no opposition to my visits, and were willing to barter food for articles of clothing, principally linen cloth; but in many other portions of the country i had to use great caution to prevent suspicion as to the object of my visits. in many cases i have passed through tribes who would have been troublesome, but as i took goods to barter i was considered a trader, and as such one can journey almost anywhere. some considered also i was a doctor or medicine-man, because i caught and preserved insects, snakes, and other small reptiles, besides plants. when this idea takes possession of some of the african races, they leave you unmolested; any injury they might inflict would be considered unlucky to themselves. i used to carry representations of snakes of wood, that are sold in england, and masks with extensive noses, so that when the natives came round my waggon begging, as they frequently did, from two to three hundred at a time, i would draw down the front sail of the waggon, slip inside, put on one of these masks, and with the snake curling about in my hand jump out in their midst, when the women and children would rush away howling, the men after them, to their kraals, and i would be left free from annoyance. during my stay at their station, before i could obtain these things, i used a large burning-glass, and when any one troubled me, would burn their hand until it began to pain. then i would run after others, which soon cleared them off. travelling past their kraals so frequently they knew my waggon, and if they pestered me for presents i had only to get out my sun-glass, and they were away in no time. the only rivers of consequence beside the sabia and the buzi in this portion of umzela's country are the umkoni, umswelise, umtschomie, gerongosi, the source of which rises not far from the buzi, runs east, and enters the indian ocean, about twenty miles south of sofala. the lusuti rises with several branches about thirty miles to the north of umzela's kraal, and joins the buzi sixty miles from its mouth. there is also the haroni and its tributary the lusiti, and the small river donde that flows into the sofala harbour. south of the mandanda region are the districts of sheshonga, indobolini, mashelbe, and makalingi. to the east is the manklin district, that takes the coast-line from maramone bay, down south to cape lady grey, off which are the islands of bazaruta, benguela, sigin, and a small group at cape st. sebastian. to the north of maramone bay, some thirty miles, are the two great islands of chuluwan. all the coast-line is flat, infested with the tsetse-fly, and most unhealthy. the mandowa tribe occupy the hill district and country inland from sofala, and it is under the rule of umzela, and is in charge of imbasugwar, one of his chief men. manukuza, father of umzela, is a zulu from zululand, who fled from chaka, the great zulu king. his followers are called mongonis, and all the tribes under him, viz. basigo, kulu, mandanda, cholee, and mandower, are called tonges. deloms, a chief of umzela, is over the district of mazibbe, and sondaba, an indian, over sheshongi, which is on the south side of the sabia. the country is flat and marshy, and full of game. rhinoceros, elephants, koodoos, giraffes, wildebeest, wild hogs, and nearly all the antelope tribe, and zebras. date and other palms, bananas, jute, and wild cotton, beside many native fruits abound. a very poisonous plant grows on the flats, from which the natives extract, from the seed, poison to put on their assagais and arrows. [this poison is the strongest known. an eminent toxicologist, who in distilling became inoculated with it through a slight scratch. he was nearly dying for six weeks, and said he had no idea that any poison could be so strong; it would kill a man in three minutes, and an elephant in one hour and a half. the flesh of animals killed by it is not poisonous. it loses its strength by evaporation in about a year.] the country in places is noted for its immense ant-hills, almost as large as those i have described in another part of this work. the southern boundary of umzela's territory is not at present ascertained; the country south of that already described is known under the name of umhlenga, where the queen mafussi, of inhoxe, rules a portion, which is a vast, open, undulating country, through which the limpopo flows for over miles to the sea, at port alice. the lundi river, a tributary of the sabia, joins it in umzela's country. it is the continuation of the ingwesi, mentioned in the mashona description. to the south of this region, and inland from the town and port of inhambane, is the region called makwakwa or marangwe--a strong, powerful race of the same tribe as the chobis, bala kulu, basiga, mashongonini, and mandandas. inhambane is situated on the sea-coast. the territory is very narrow, not exceeding twenty miles inland, and eighty miles along the coast. a small river, the inyanombi, falls into the bay, and the river zavara drains the country of the makwakwa's tribe--a low, flat region. there is still a tribe occupying a part of umzela's territory that call themselves the powerful makololo race, of the same family that ruled an extensive region on the zambese river above the victoria falls, and became a terror to the neighbouring tribes. the barutse people fought and nearly exterminated them, scattering those left far and wide amongst other tribes, and broke up the race entirely. this makololo nation on the zambese extended as far as that white tribe mentioned, living on the quito and upper portion of the cubango--now become mixed with the black races, and from reports, a wild and savage race, eating human flesh. may not these two tribes have travelled up the zambese together at some remote time? it seems singular that the makololos in umzela's country should call themselves the once-powerful makololo tribe; and we find them on the upper zambese, the most powerful tribe in all that central part of africa, miles away from those in umzela's land. it is an interesting study to trace the various periods, as they advanced south from egypt, and to find at the present time many arabian and jewish customs amongst them; and another interesting feature of those races is that many names of places in central africa are precisely similar to many names in the islands of the south pacific ocean. so far as is known of this country, we come across limestone, slate shale, red sandstone, green stone, quartz, porphyritic rocks, gravel, and on the western slope of the highlands, granites. referring again to the land of ophir, there are no black races in any other part of africa that allow a woman to rule over them; but in the immediate neighbourhood of sofala there are three queens, viz. queen mafussi over inhoaxe, adjoining umzela's territory, and immediately on the south of her are the two queens majaji and mescharoon. may not this be one identification, that it was right that woman should be a ruler as well as man, handed down from the queen of sheba's time? also a large portion of madagascar is ruled over by an arab race that must have settled there a very long time ago. their language is arabic, and queens of that island have and do now rule the greater portion of it. chapter twenty five. the portuguese possessions on the east coast, within south central africa. the earliest records we have of this coast-line is from the portuguese, who first sailed round the cape to the north, as far as the mozambique coast, in , under vasco de gama. in they visited the coast again and conquered sofala, and soon after quilimane, inhambane, and delagoa bay, where they built a fort at lorenzo marques in the inner harbour, and took possession of the coast northwards, including the mouth of the zambese and both banks of that river beyond tette, where they formed a town, claiming the country far in, up the river and along the coast, but at the present time they have no jurisdiction over it, beyond a few miles of the coast, the natives not allowing any interference with their rights beyond the reach of their guns at the forts. up to the portuguese only held the northern portion of delagoa bay, down as far south as the degrees south latitude, and half of the island of inyack; the english government disputing their claim to any territory south of the degrees, and the southern portion of inyack was held by the british government. much correspondence passed between the two governments, when it was referred to arbitration, and marshal macmahon, then president of the french republic, decided in july, , that the portuguese had a right to the country down to degrees minutes south latitude, which included the whole of the bay and island of inyack--to the exclusion of british interests. the boundary then laid down as the southern limit of portugal should follow that latitude up to the lobombo mountain, which borders on swaziland, an independent chief. following the mountain north to the middle of the lower part of the comatie river, where it flows through that mountain, from thence in a north-east direction to pokionies kap, on the north side of the olifant river, where it passes through the mountain north-west by north, to the nearest point of the stricundo mountain, on the umzim voobo river, then in a straight line north to the junction of the pafarie river with the limpopo. all on the west of this line is the transvaal boundary. this is the boundary on paper and maps, but the portuguese have no more jurisdiction over the country north of degrees between the sea and the transvaal boundary, than they have over umzela's territory, with the exception of a small portion along the coast to the zambese river, and up that river to tette. the barpeda tribes, east of the transvaal, are divided into many classes, ruled over by independent chiefs. the country at the back of delagoa bay is a flat unhealthy country for forty miles inland, when it begins to rise, until the summit of the lobombo mountain is reached. the river lorenzo marques, which enters the inner harbour at delagoa bay, is navigable for small craft for forty miles up. the region to the north of that harbour, through which the lower portion of the river limpopo passes, is a low flat country, full of bush, and most unhealthy. the tsetse-fly swarms. large game is plentiful over all this region. the southern portion is called gasa; the northern, umhlenga--already described. the entrance of the limpopo river is in degrees minutes south latitude, and about three miles broad, which it continues to be up to the junction of the olifant river, gradually narrowing towards the north. it is full of hippopotami and alligators that grow to an enormous size, and several kinds of fish. lorenzo marques is the capital of the portuguese possessions in east africa; for some distance along the coast it is a dirty unhealthy place. the fort mounts a few old guns, and is the governor's residence. several stores are kept by portuguese natives and one or two english. the inner harbour, upon which the town is built on the north bank, is picturesque. tropical trees of many varieties grow: cocoa-nuts, palms, bananas, lemons, oranges, beside vegetables; but the inhabitants are a lazy set of people, and the town or country will never improve under its present government. the islands of imyack and elephant command the entrance of the outer bay, and the islands at the mouth of the uncomasi or king george's river, krocodil, and sabia, that rise in the transvaal south of lydenburg, which has never been thoroughly explored. the coast-line from delagoa bay to inhambane is likewise little-known, as also between that port and sofala, and north to the zambese river. the principal towns in the portuguese possessions on the east coast are lorenzo marques, inhambane, sofala, and the two small river towns up the zambese, senna and tette. steamers occasionally touch at all the coast towns named, on their way to zanzibar from natal. quilimane is situated on the north of the zambese river, upon one of its branches, where a portuguese governor resides for that district. another sabia flows into the ocean near sofala. chapter twenty six. a cursory glance at those ports of south africa that occupy the extreme south of the african continent, south of south central africa. south of south central africa, which has comprised my field, of exploration, is the colony of the cape of good hope, which takes in the whole of the southern peninsula of the african continent, from the orange river to cape agulhas, and extends towards the east as far as natal. it is divided into the eastern and western provinces and griqualand west. cape town is the seat of government and the capital, and is governed by a high commissioner and governor, a ministry and legislative council, and a house of assembly, both elected. the governor is appointed by the british government. the principal ports are table bay at cape town, false bay, including simon's town, and the naval station of the colony, mossel bay, algoa bay at port elizabeth, east london, and a few small bays along the coast. the principal rivers are the orange, caledon, kraai, zeekoe, buffalo, draining little namaqualand, olifant, berg rivers draining the district of malmesbury, zout river draining koeberg and neighbourhood. easters river enters false bay, londerende river drains part of swellendam and worcester districts, gawirtz and its tributaries drain the george, worcester, and beaufort districts, and several small streams up to zwartkops, that enters the sea a few miles to the north-east of port elizabeth. following up the coast are samdays, bushman, kowie, great fish river, kaga, koonap, kat, keiskama, buffalo, great kei, white kei, indwa, tosmo (which drains the country round queen's town and part of kaffraria), bashee, umtata, umzimvobo, and umzimcula; not one of them is navigable from the great fall they take in their course to the sea, and they have deep water in them only after heavy rains, which is the case with all the rivers in this colony. there are several mountain ranges, viz. table mountain at the back of cape town, feet above sea-level. stormberg, zwagerskook, winterberg, amatola, and their spurs, and many others of less note. some of them are feet above sea-level. on the eastern border in noman's-land is the drakensberg, that divides this colony from natal, having its lofty head , feet above sea-level, where the grand scenery is rarely to be equalled in any part of south africa. noman's-land or griqualand east, principally occupied by the griqua tribe who left camphill ground and took up their residence in that fine rich country. numerous vleis and pans, some extensive, many are dry the greater part of the year. the largest is commissioner's pan, in what is called bushmanland, some twenty miles in circumference, and contains a crust of salt on the dry bed, where there is no water in it. there are salt-pans near uitenhage, cradock, and betheldorp, beside many fresh-water pans of considerable extent, but they are becoming dryer every year, as also the fountains: many of them thirty years ago gave out a copious supply, and at the present time are small streams. verkeerde vlei, close to the karroo port, water is generally found in it, as also vogel vlei, no great distance from the berg river. nearly every other vlei may be termed pans, being so shallow, they are scarcely distinguishable from the surrounding country; so impregnated is the soil with salt that many springs and fountains have a brackish taste, and this is the case all over the southern part of the african continent, which indicates that at one time it had a close connection with the ocean. several mineral springs in the cape colony, both hot and cold. a chalybeate spring at the foot of the kradoun mountain on the eastern slope with a temperature of degrees. hot springs at montague, winterberg, caledon, malmesbury, olifant, and one near breed river, which is found to rise to a temperature of degrees. the mineral wealth of the colony is not known. copper is found in large quantities in little namaqualand, near the orange river. near port elizabeth lead has been found. iron is largely distributed over many districts, and coal has of late years been found near stormberg, burghersdorp and other places, and conveyed to the diamond-fields, which turns out to be of better quality than was at first expected, and lately gold. very fine caves in the zwarteberge range of mountains, a short distance from oudtshoorn village, much resorted to, for their peculiar beautiful stalactites of limestone formation. many extensive forests in the colony, near the town of clanwilliam, outenigera, zitzikamma; there is also the adda bush, dense bush along the amatola mountains, kat river, and the knysna. to the eastward we find the kadoun forest, extending nearly eighty miles in length along the sea, and some fifteen miles in width. deep extensive kloofs along the mountain ranges are well-timbered. the great fish river bush is very extensive, and many others along the buffalo mountain, katberg, chumie, and boschberg, are densely wooded with fine timber, principally yellow wood that grow to a great size. the great karroo desert is situated more in the western division of the cape colony, lying between the mountains bokkeveld, wittebergen, and swartebergen. in length it is from mitchell's pass in the south nearly miles, extending northwards to the orange river, and from east to west over eighty, a most wretched and dried-up country; scarcely a blade of grass to be seen. the karroo bush is plentiful, of which the sheep are very fond--a dreary waste. the main road from cape town to hope town and kimberley passes diagonally through its entire length, through mitchell's pass, a fearful gorge of seven miles, the road cut out of the solid sandstone rock on the left hand, with perpendicular cliffs, and on the right a precipice of some three and four hundred feet; the only safeguard to prevent carriages from falling over are a few large boulders placed at long distances apart to prevent any vehicle from going too close to the edge. the scenery along the seven miles of this pass is grand in the extreme, but it can only be enjoyed when on foot, when at every few steps a halt must be made to view the bold outline of this wild and picturesque pass. the railway from cape town to hope town avoids this singular formation, consequently the great traffic is carried round in another direction, more to the east, passing through beaufort west and victoria west, over a flat and barren part of the great karroo. the mountain pass at franschehoek is very fine, also baiu's kloof, both possessing grand scenery. the principal towns in the colony beside cape town, in degree of importance, are port elizabeth, graham's town; the capital of the eastern province is pleasantly situated in a fertile valley. victoria east, ceres, beaufort west, hope town, close to the orange river, through which the railway runs to kimberley diamond-fields. somerset is situated at the foot of boschberg mountain, one of the most picturesque towns in the colony; bedford is built at the fort of kagaberg, in a rich and valuable part of the country; cradock, a town situated on the bank of the great fish river. graaff reinet is erected on the sunday's river, one of the most pleasant towns in the colony, situated in a mountain region, some of them are the highest in the colony. compassberg is over feet above sea-level. sneeunbergen is another prominent mountain range with beautiful scenery, and the town is well laid out; the streets have oranges and other trees planted along their sides, that add much to the general appearance of the town. colesberg is situated on the main transport road from port elizabeth to the diamond-fields, kimberley, orange free state, and the interior. the railway from port elizabeth runs to colesberg, from thence passengers and goods are conveyed by passenger-carts and ox-waggons. [a railroad now runs through this country to kimberley.] the town and country are not very inviting, a vast extent of barren open plains, that slope towards the orange river, of which the town is distant some eleven miles. richmond, hanover, and middleburg are rising towns. aliwal north is situated on the orange river on the main road to the orange free state and also to kimberley. burghersdorp is on the stormberg river. albert is another town in this district, and is on the road from east london to the free state. king william's town, grey town, and east london are in the same division; the latter is a rising port, and will eventually be very important as a sea-port. queen's town is situated on the indwe river, and has several native locations belonging to the tambookie tribe. there are several small villages situated throughout all these districts. to the east is what is termed british kaffraria, in which the port of east london is situated on the buffalo river. its eastern boundary is the great kei river, separating it from kaffirland proper; the country is picturesque, with lofty and well-wooded hills. the native population in british kaffraria are mostly of the gaika and amakosa kaffirs. the population of the cape colony is various. the western province has a greater proportion of the boer element than the english, but in the eastern province the english predominate. many germans have settled in the colony since the german legion has been disbanded, and form a considerable portion of the population. french, swedes, americans, and many others from different countries, not forgetting the chinaman. of the natives there are the hottentot, whose pure breed is nearly extinct; a few are now living on the banks of st. john's river. korannas, who are closely allied to the hottentot, and are found more to the north on the orange river, as also the bushman. griquas, a bastard tribe, descendants of the dutch and hottentot women, who have their separate captains, and live much after the boer in habits and customs. in the cape town district are many malay from india; in fact i may say one-fourth of the population is made up of them. those races that may be termed kaffirs are the gaika, gonebi, amakosa, slambie (who occupy lands in british kaffraria), amagaleka, amatembu in the eastern part of queen's town, and the country to the east of this division on to natal is kaffirland proper, known under the name tambookies. railroads have been extensively increased of late years, running through the country to all parts. one direct from cape town to port elizabeth, another direct to kimberley, worcester, graham's town, king william and queen's town, and many other parts. the public transport roads are in most cases good, but many that wind over the steep mountain passes are very bad, and trying to oxen and mules when they have heavy loads. griqualand west forms a portion of the cape colony, and is situated on the north side of the orange river, and as it has been fully described in the first part of this work, in consequence of the greater portion of it being included in south central africa, i have merely to state that kimberley, bulfontein, de beers and de toitspan, the four large mines, now form one considerable town, and may be considered the richest of any in the colony, with a population that is not living in a sleepy hollow, as the rest of the colony is, but showing some vitality and energy, which has in a great measure saved the colony from ruin. the district of cape town is very pretty and picturesque, well planted with firs and other trees. the town is well supplied with fruit of almost every description and vegetables. abundance of fish are caught in the bay. the climate is mild and healthy; the rainy season commences in the autumn, about may, and lasts until august. in the summer months it is rare to have a storm. wild animals are becoming very scarce; a few of the large game such as the elephant and buffalo are preserved in the addo, kowie, and zitzchkamma forests, and may be occasionally seen going down in troops of thirty and forty to the sea to have a bath. a few wild beasts; blesbok and many springbok may now be seen on the plains, and also the ostrich. tigers and tiger-cats are yet plentiful in the kloofs of the mountain ranges that extend so far through the colony. a few sea-cow, i believe, are still to be seen in the rivers on the eastern border, beyond east london. between the eastern division of the cape colony, that is kaffraria proper, and the upper part of the caledon river, is basutoland, an extensive region that joins up to natal or drakensberg mountain as its eastern boundary, the north by the caledon river and the orange free state, as also a portion of its western boundary. the country is very mountainous, with deep and thickly wooded kloofs, making the scenery very lovely. some of the hills on the drakensberg side are feet above sea-level. the basutos are a branch of the bechuana family, of the barolong tribe, the same family as montsioa, who left basutoland when young, and occupied the country he now holds on the molapo river. the small district of thaba nchu belonged to these people, which was separated from basutoland by the free state, and in fact that state surrounded it; and in consequence of a difference between the two chiefs, samuel and sepinare moroka (the latter being killed), president brand went with a force of free state burghers and took possession of the town and territory of thaba nchu, and annexed it to that state. samuel was the son of the old chief moroka, the other his nephew. when moroka died in , the people were divided as to who should be the chief. there is no doubt the son had the greatest claim; he was an educated kaffir, having spent several years at st. augustine's college, canterbury, and was in every respect a gentleman in behaviour. he is now a wanderer amongst his tribe. thaba nchu, in , was the largest native town in british south africa; the population then was about , with mission houses and church schools. it was from this station, in , that the boers who escaped from the fight with moselikatze, joined the barolongs to drive that chief from mosega, and collected a force of men. montsioa, the present chief, held command of part of the expedition, and through the basuto assistance, the boers managed to drive moselikatze more to the north. we now see the return they get for this help: their country at thaba nchu taken from them, and montsioa would have lost his, and himself and people been murdered, if the british government had not stepped in at the eleventh hour and saved them. basutoland, which is separated from thaba nchu, is now under british protection, and is one of the finest wheat-growing countries in south africa, and the natives, if they had been let alone, would have remained at peace, as they were growing rich in supplying the diamond-fields with corn. but as their country joins for such a distance to the free state, which is occupied by a boer population, it is impossible for them to remain in peace for long, for no tribe, however peacefully inclined the people may be, can with boers on their border remain so long, as the latter have many ways of causing a disturbance, which we have so frequently witnessed, as in the case of montsioa and monkuruan, and the only way to prevent any further trouble in that country was for the british government to take it under their protection. thaba bosigo is their principal town and one of their mission stations. the orange free state occupies the whole of that part of africa lying between the cape colony, basutoland, natal, and the transvaal. bloomfontein is the capital and seat of government. mr. brand is the president, now sir john brand, with a volksraad to carry on the government, and contains within its area about , square miles. the principal rivers are the vaal, orange, and caledon, that form the boundary. the tributaries of the vaal are the likwa spruit, the north-east boundary, klip, welge, rhenoster, valsch, vet, modder, and keit. the principal towns are harrismith, situated on the north-east portion of the state, about twenty-five miles north of the drakensberg range, the boundary of natal, and on the main transport roads from natal to the diamond-fields, bloomfontein, potchefstroom, and pretoria in the transvaal; also winburg, cronstad, boschof, keckstad, fauresmith, and many others of lesser note. the country is almost one unbroken open grass plain, very scarce of wood; in some parts there are long stretches of thorn, principally mimosa bush, but the demand for wood at the diamond-fields is so great that in a few years there will be scarcely a stick worth cutting, as the price for a waggon-load of wood varies from ten to thirty pounds. a large proportion of the population in the various towns are english and other nationalities. the climate in winter is cold, but dry. the elevation averages feet above sea-level, which is the cause. fortunately the winters are dry. the rainy season is from november to april. in the summer months very severe thunderstorms pass over the country. generally there is a great want of water previous to the rainy season, and many cattle die from cold and starvation. game, twenty years ago, was plentiful, and also lions; but only a few blesbok, wildebeest, and springbok are to be met with. some of the farmers have now begun to preserve them on their farms, otherwise they would have long since disappeared from the country. lions have all been destroyed, but a few wolves are still left. in parts of the country there are some very pretty localities, where the woods are preserved, and occasionally may be seen several hundred baboons visiting those parts for the gum, of which they are very fond. many of them are of great size; they may be heard a long distance, as they pass with their half-human grunts, and it would be dangerous for any single individual unarmed to come across their path. it is impossible for any great improvement to be made in the present state of affairs in the state. the country is too poor, and with very little chance of its ever becoming richer, with such a lack of energy for advancing in civilisation as is in the boer character. the british colony of natal is situated on the coast, and joins on to the cape colony at its extreme eastern boundary, called kaffirland proper, and griqualand east as also basutoland. to the north it joins up to the orange free state, and the transvaal, the drakensberg mountain dividing it from them. on the eastern side, zululand is separated from it by the tugela and the buffalo rivers. it has a coast-line of miles. the extreme northern point is in degrees minutes south latitude, down to degrees minutes. the extreme western point is in degrees minutes, to degrees minutes, being the eastern point at the mouth of the tugela, where zululand joins it. it is governed by a lieutenant-governor, and executive and legislative councils. the principal town is maritzburg, situated about fifty miles inland from the port of durban. the latter has become an important town, where all the shipping trade is carried on for the colony and the interior. on the main transport road to the free state and transvaal are howick, close to the umgeni waterfall, weston, estcourt, colenzo, ladysmith, and newcastle. east of maritzburg is richmond; north of durban is pinetown, and many others in various parts of the country. the mountain range on the western boundary, and on its northern, called the drakensberg, are the highest of any of the mountains of south africa, and it possesses some of the finest scenery in this part of the world. the loftiest peaks are , feet above sea-level. the general elevation of the upper portion of the colony is feet, sloping gradually until it reaches the coast-line. the climate is very healthy, both in summer and winter, and very mild. the coast region is more tropical from its being less elevated than the up-country; many extensive sugar plantations are cultivated, and the natal sugar has become an important article of commerce. coffee, tobacco, indigo, tea, arrowroot, various kinds of spices, all kinds of garden vegetables, tomato, yams, pineapple, and other tropical fruits. cotton is cultivated also. maritzburg is the seat of government, and the principal military station. railways are now pushing their way up towards newcastle. when i knew the colony in the principal mode of conveyance was by bullock-waggons and passenger-carts. the colonists are now going in for preserving fruits, which are highly prized for their delicious flavour. there is some very fine building stone, particularly the marble found near alfreda. coal is found at newcastle and biggarsberg. iron is distributed largely all over the country, and copper has also been discovered. limestone has been found on the bushman river and upper tugela. slate is also found in several parts, and on the bushman river, in which are beautiful specimens of fossil ferns. altogether, natal is a pleasant and healthy colony, but the native population being so large, now reaching to near , , against a white population of something under , , is a drawback to the whole of the country being profitably utilised, as it would otherwise be, if the colour was reversed. and one does not see what the end is to be, as natal cannot carry a dense white population whilst the kaffirs live and increase nearly as rapidly as the whites. gold will probably settle the question, as the bulk of the kaffirs remaining will be crowded out, and a small population of white men will remain and feed the gold-diggers in the transvaal and beyond. the end.