Chapter Nine.
King Panda.
The band of Zulus, with the captives in their midst, were compelled to move at a slow pace; for the Hottentot drivers of the waggon, uncertain of the reception they might meet with at the end of their journey, would not hasten on the oxen even when the ground was level, and it was frequently rough, with steep hills to ascend or descend, so that a quicker pace was impossible. The warriors belonged to a regiment of unmarried men or boys, as could be seen from their heads wanting the ring at the top, which is the mark of those who have been allowed by the king to take to themselves wives. As they marched along they shouted and sang songs descriptive of the deeds they had performed, or of those they intended to do, referring sometimes to their prowess in having captured a party of white men, who had not ventured to strike a blow for freedom; while they boasted especially of the way they intended to annihilate Umbulazi and his followers. Some gave way to their exuberant spirits by leaping and dancing in a fashion which offered a curious contrast to the march of a regiment of life guards. They shrieked, they quivered their assegais, and clashed their shields together, until Crawford, who had never before seen an exhibition of the sort, began to fear that they might take it into their heads to kill him and his companions.
“I think we should be prepared for an attack from these savages,” he said to Denis, gravely. “For my part, I hope that we shall sell our lives dearly, if they attempt to take them.”
“No fear of that for the present,” answered Denis; “they are only in somewhat high spirits at the thought of having soon to engage in battle. You see Hendricks rides on as composedly as ever, so does Lionel, who perfectly understands what they are saying. They don’t intend us any harm. However, I confess that it is possible their mood may change, and it would be as well not to do anything to offend them. Hendricks knows them better than most people, and will take care to keep them in good humour. I shall be very glad when we are out of their company notwithstanding.”
“So say I,” exclaimed Crawford. “I confess that had I known what savages they are, I should not have been so eager to come into their country.”
“As to that, I do not suppose they are worse than other tribes,” said Denis; “they are certainly more intelligent and brave. My chief regret is that we shall have further delay in going in search of my father. I wish that you were to accompany us instead of stopping with Captain Broderick, although I daresay Percy will be very glad of your company; and he has some sisters, who won’t be ill pleased to have an English gentleman to talk to, as they must lead a somewhat monotonous life in that out-of-the-way spot, with only an occasional visit from a Dutch boer and his frau, or, when the weather is not too hot, a gallop through the wilds.”
“I am half inclined to ask Hendricks to let me accompany him on his expedition into the interior,” said Crawford. “I am afraid I should get tired of the sort of life you describe. However, I shall be able to judge better when I have seen the place.”
“Or the young ladies, eh?” observed Denis; “I fancy something will depend upon that, won’t it?”
Crawford made no reply.
This conversation caused the journey to appear shorter than might otherwise have been the case. Lionel and Percy, who generally kept together, amused themselves by talking away in a lively fashion, while Hendricks rode ahead, thinking over his plans for the future, and considering how he could best get free from King Panda and his son, the Prince Regent, for such was the rank held by Cetchwayo at that time. At length a kraal was seen on the slope of a hill, rising gradually from the plain. It was at present the habitation of Panda. The warriors raised a shout, intended as a compliment to the king, and again beating their shields and shaking their assegais, they made signals to the drivers to urge on the waggon at a faster speed than heretofore. The Hottentots, observing their threatening gestures, obeyed, and the ground being even, the oxen pulled away, incited by the lash of the drivers, which came down with incessant whisks on their flanks.
Hendricks, knowing the customs of the country, put his horse into a trot, Crawford and Denis and the two boys imitating him, and thus the warriors and their captives appeared to be rushing forward eagerly towards the palace of the king. The chief who had captured them hurried on first to announce the success of his expedition. Just before he reached the kraal he was met by a tall stout chief, evidently a person of much consideration, for as he approached he bowed again and again, and then crouched down to the ground, apparently not daring to look up at his face. The tall chief wore, like the others, a cap stuck full of ostrich and crane feathers, with lappets of monkey skins, a kilt of the same skins round his waist, and a sort of cloak hanging over his shoulders, fastened in front by numerous white ox-tails. His features were handsome for a Kaffir; in height he towered above those surrounding him; and though still young, he was remarkably stout. He was evidently also a powerful man, and he possessed the supposed attributes of high birth—wonderfully small hands and feet for a person of his size.
“Who can he be?” asked Crawford.
“A whopping big fellow, at all events,” answered Denis; “I’ll ask Hendricks.”
“That is no other than Cetchwayo, the real ruler of Zululand,” said Hendricks; “he has come here probably on a visit to his father, and he it was who ordered our seizure. I have always been on good terms with him, and must try and induce him not to detain us. It will not do, however, to approach him on horseback. We must show him some respect, though we need not bow and cringe as that fellow is doing.”
When the party had approached to about a hundred yards or so from the prince, a halt was called, when Hendricks, dismounting, summoned Umgolo, and leaving the horses in charge of the other attendants, they proceeded together towards the prince.
Hendricks saluted him in Kaffir fashion, and having paid the usual compliments, begged to inquire why he and his party had been summoned. The prince replied that he wished to see him face to face. That no harm was intended him, but that he required his services for an important object. Hendricks asked what that object was, saying at the same time, that he should be always ready to do anything to serve him.
“That is well!” answered Cetchwayo; “but you are equally ready to do anything to serve Umbulazi, to whose camp I find you have paid a visit.”
Hendricks replied that he had been compelled to visit the camp for the purpose of rescuing some of his followers who had been made prisoners, and that he had neither promised his assistance nor expressed his approbation of the proceedings of Umbulazi.
“You must show which side you espouse by joining me, and assisting in defeating the traitor who is planning to deprive me of my father’s favour, and to rule the country in my stead,” said Cetchwayo.
In vain Hendricks pleaded that although friendly to Cetchwayo, he was anxious to proceed on his journey for an important object, and that it was not becoming in white men to interfere in the quarrels of the natives, with all of whom they wished to be at peace.
Cetchwayo smiled grimly, remarking, “That whether Hendricks and his followers fought or not, they must accompany him to see the way in which he would punish his enemies.”
When he pleaded still more earnestly, the prince began to grow angry, and hinted that if his white friend did not accompany him willingly he should be compelled to use more powerful arguments.
Hendricks, seeing that it would be imprudent to press the point further, had at length to submit, and Cetchwayo then told him that he might camp where his waggon stood, and that wood, water, and food would be sent to him.
The oxen were accordingly offspanned, the horses were knee-haltered, and the other usual preparations made. In a short time a party of boys appeared bringing firewood, which they deposited near the waggon. They were followed by the same number of girls, who came along laughing and singing, bringing some large calabashes of water on their heads. Finding that no meat appeared, Hendricks did up a packet of blankets and other articles, and bidding one of his men accompany him, proceeded to the chief kraal. Percy and Lionel followed at a short distance, as they said to each other, to see the fun. As they got near the kraal, they observed a number of half-naked blacks dragging at what looked like a huge gun carriage, but which proved to be a hand-waggon, very similar to a big chest on wheels. In it was seated an immensely fat man. As he approached, the people who were standing outside immediately went down on their hands and knees, shouting out, “Bayete, bayete!” or King of all other kings; “Zulu-lion, Monarch of the world,” and similar complimentary cries.
“Why, who is that fat old fellow?” asked Percy.
“Who should he be but King Panda, to be sure?” answered Denis. “He is too fat for his legs to support him, so he has to be dragged about in that fashion.”
The king looked about him in a complaisant manner, and gave some order, when half a dozen of the courtiers darted off as fast as their legs could carry them, eager to obey it. On seeing Hendricks, he desired him to approach. The hunter advanced without considering it necessary to make a salute in the style the black king’s subjects adopted; but taking the bundle of blankets from his attendant, he offered it, saying that he had brought a present which he hoped his Majesty would deign to accept.
The king, on seeing the blankets, which were ornamented with gay-coloured borders, expressed his great satisfaction, and without referring to the way in which the hunter and his party had been taken prisoners, inquired the news from Natal, the price of cattle, and talked about other similar subjects.
Hendricks, knowing that it would be useless to plead with Panda against Cetchwayo’s decision, having answered his questions, simply expressed his pleasure at seeing the king look so well.
The old fellow grimly smiled, and stroked his stomach as if he considered himself still capable of swallowing an unlimited quantity of beef and mealy cakes. Yet this mountain of flesh had unlimited power over the lives of his subjects, which he showed before the day was over by ordering one of his courtiers, who had offended him somehow or other, to be put to death. Some thirty of those standing round darted off with their assegais in their hands. Just at that instant the unhappy offender appeared, coming to ask pardon of the king, and to explain the reason of his apparent negligence. He was met by the executioners of the king’s pleasure, and before he could open his mouth he was pierced through and through by a score of assegais. When his dead body was dragged up to the waggon, the king simply nodded his approval of the act. The body was then dragged off again to be buried. None of the man’s relatives or friends dared to utter a word of complaint. Soon after Hendricks and his companions had reached the waggon, an ox was driven towards them by some of the attendants of the king, who had sent it as a return for the presents he had received. It was at once slaughtered, and the meat was spitted, and placed before the fire to cook, greatly to the satisfaction of the Kaffir and Hottentot servants, who had begun loudly to complain of being starved. Hendricks had still some hopes that Cetchwayo would allow him to continue his journey the next morning; but the prince sent word that he must remain another day, as he was not prepared to commence his march.
This was a further trial of temper to Hendricks, and by the way he bore it he set a good example to his young followers. Guards were placed round the camp by Cetchwayo’s orders, so that no one could leave it without permission. It was thus very evident that he intended to adhere to his first intention, of compelling the white men to accompany him on his expedition against his brother. There was no help for it. The whole party turned in to sleep, satisfied, at all events, that they were not likely to be disturbed by a lion or rhinoceros, or any other wild beast, making an inroad into the camp.
Next day a messenger from the king made his appearance, and presented an invitation to the great white hunter to dine with His Majesty, and to bring his young white companions.
Hendricks groaned. “I know what that means,” he observed to Crawford. “We shall have to drink beer and eat beef until we are ready to die of repletion. I would thankfully avoid the honour if we could possibly do so; but if we were to refuse, the king might grow angry, and perhaps confiscate our goods, if he did not order us all to be put to death.”
“Let us go by all means,” said Crawford. “It will be great fun, and we shall, at all events, be able to boast that we dined with the king of Zululand.”
“We must go, I fear, but I doubt if you or any of us will find it much fun,” answered Hendricks.
He then turned to the messenger, who, of course, had no conception of the remarks which had been made, and begged him to inform the great king that his white friends would do themselves the immense honour of obeying his commands.
At the appointed time Hendricks and his four companions set off, leaving the waggon under the charge of Umgolo, with directions to keep a strict watch upon it, lest any of Cetchwayo’s brave soldiers should take it into their heads to appropriate the contents. They then proceeded towards the kraal at the side of the hill. The heat was excessive, the sun beat down with intense force upon their heads, so that they were not inclined to move very fast. Having arrived at the kraal, they were ushered into the outer circle, where, in a hut considerably larger than those inhabited by the common people, they found the king seated on a pile of mats, he being utterly unable to squat down in the fashion of his less obese subjects. Hendricks saluted him in due form, and Crawford and Percy imitated their leader as well as they could. They then arranged themselves so as to form part of a circle on one side of His Majesty.
Panda looked at Lionel. “That boy knows how to behave,” he remarked, observing the proper Kaffir salutation which he made on entering.
“Yes, O King! I have long lived in Zululand, and I know good manners,” answered Lionel, with perfect gravity, while Denis turned away his head to indulge in a quiet laugh, to which he could not openly venture to give way.
Presently several girls appeared, each carrying a bowl holding about a gallon of beer, one of which they set down before each of the guests. Others then brought in wooden platters, huge pieces of beef, large masses of which an attendant cut off with an assegai, and handed to the king, who munched away at them with infinite satisfaction. The guests were desired to help themselves with their knives which they carried in their belts. There were, in addition, baskets of mealy cakes, which Percy declared were more to the purpose than the tough half-roasted beef. The king every now and then looked round the circle, exclaiming, “Eat! eat!” The guests did their utmost, but were very soon satisfied.
“Pray tell him that I can do no more,” said Crawford. “This hot day I should prefer some cold lamb and a salad, but this coarse beef beats me.”
Hendricks apologised as best he could.
“Tell them to drink, then,” said the king, “if they cannot eat. The beer will slip down without any difficulty. Don’t you like beer?” asked the king, when he saw that after taking a few mouthfuls they stopped.
“Pray tell him that we like beer in moderation, but shall never be able to finish off one of these bowls,” exclaimed Crawford.
Hendricks assured the king that his young companions were anxious to please him; but that Englishmen’s insides were not of the same magnificent capacity as His Majesty’s, and that therefore it would be impossible for them to do as he desired.
A frown gathered on the king’s brow. “Drink, I say, drink! They must drink,” he exclaimed.
“Tell the king that I’ll see him at Jericho first,” said Denis; an observation which set Percy off laughing.
“Command yourselves, lads,” said Hendricks, turning to them. “This may become no laughing matter. Although you cannot drink, and I don’t wish you to do so, you must show the king that you desire to please him.”
“Sure I’ll do that,” said Denis, putting the bowl to his mouth, and pretending to swallow a huge draught, and then placed it on the ground and gasped for breath. “Please tell His Majesty, that unless he wishes to kill me, he’ll let me off this time,” cried the irrepressible young Irishman. “Poor Percy and Lionel will burst outright if they have to swallow this stuff.”
“That I shall,” exclaimed Percy. “I’ll not swallow another drop to please him or all the nigger kings in Africa.”
Lionel did not venture to make any remark, but looked as resolute as the rest not to turn himself into a beer barrel.
Hendricks began to wish heartily that he had left his companions in the camp, but had now to get out of the difficulty in the best way he could. He therefore reminded Panda that they were very young, and that English manners were not like Zulu manners, but he hoped the next time they visited the country, should the king give them the honour of an invitation, that they would behave themselves better.
Both Hendricks and Crawford had already swallowed more of the beer than they liked. Although its intoxicating qualities were very weak, the latter declared he felt its effects in his head, and that should he take much more, he could not answer for himself.
At last Hendricks thought of an expedient which might possibly prove successful in enabling his companions to escape from a further infliction of the king’s hospitable intentions. “The Lion of Africa” (such was one of the titles the obese old savage delighted to be addressed by) “was inquiring about affairs in Natal,” he observed. “Not long ago, there lived in England,—which, as your Majesty is aware of, is a long way off,—a man named Jones. He was a worthy man, and had he been born in Zululand, he might have become a great warrior. But Jones was a man of peace. He had a family of ten children, six boys and four girls, very like him in all respects. Jones had a brother, and Jones’s brother had twelve children, they were equally divided between boys and girls. As there was every prospect of there being a good many more little Jones’s born, they agreed that the country might not be large enough to hold them, and they therefore determined to come out to Natal. Jones’s brother came in a ship called the Swan, while Jones himself embarked in one named the Duck. They sailed almost at the same time. When the sea was smooth, the little Jones’s were tolerably well, but when it grew rough, they became very sick, and wished that they had not come.”
Hendricks, while he was speaking, kept his eye on the king, who, before he had got thus far, began to nod. He continued, therefore, in a low voice, giving the history of the Jones’s, which, as it would be uninteresting to most readers, was especially so to the king, who, therefore, before the hunter had got much farther, fell fast asleep.
“Now my lads,” said Hendricks, turning to his young companions, “you may take the opportunity of slipping off. Make a bow to the king as you leave the hut, more to please his attendants than His Majesty, who will certainly not see it, and I will follow.”
His directions were obeyed, and they all breathed more freely when they found themselves in the open air. They guessed that the courtiers would not let the king discover that any beer had been left in the bowls, by drinking it up themselves, and they therefore were not troubled on that account.
“It is the first time I ever dined with a king, and it’s the last, I hope, ever to have that honour—at least with a black one,” exclaimed Denis, as they strolled back towards the waggon. “I wish we could send Cetchwayo to sleep as easily as Hendricks has done his fat old father, and then we might at once continue our journey.”
Cetchwayo, however, was not a man to be sent asleep by any amount of Kaffir beer, whatever might have been the effect of half a dozen of London stout. He visited the camp in the evening, to have a talk, as he said, with his friend the great hunter.
He intended, he said, to commence his march at daylight the next morning, to attack Umbulazi, and he should depend upon his friends to afford him the assistance of their rifles.
“Do you wish, O Prince, to destroy me and my companions?” exclaimed Hendricks. “Know you not that I am subject to the laws of my country? Those laws forbid me to kill my fellow-creatures, except in self-defence, or in such warfare as is sanctioned by my government. If I were to kill any of Umbulazi’s people, who have not attacked me, and who are at peace with my country, I should make myself liable to the penalty of death. Remember, O Prince, that although your warriors are brave and numerous, yet Umbulazi has a strong force, and should the fortune of war turn against you, your women and children would be exposed to great danger. Now if you will place them under my charge, I will undertake to defend them, and will fight to the last, rather than allow them to be killed.”
To this proposal Cetchwayo would not consent, but at last he agreed that Hendricks and his men should remain in the reserve, and that in the event of any of his regiments being defeated, they should afford them protection, and enable them to rally, so as to renew the attack.
Very unwillingly Hendricks was compelled to consent to this arrangement, for he feared being drawn into the conflict, which he especially desired to avoid. Next morning, at daybreak, the army began its march. The main body advanced so slowly, that the waggon was able to keep up with it; but active scouts were sent ahead, to feel every inch of the way, while the rest kept themselves concealed, so that there was no possibility of their being taken by surprise. For three days they advanced, when it was supposed that they were approaching their enemies; but the scouts brought in word that they had retreated to a position nearer the border. This showed that Umbulazi was not so confident of victory as he had appeared to be—possibly he had discovered that his forces were far outnumbered by those of his brother.
On receiving this information, Cetchwayo ordered his whole army to advance. Hendricks was in hopes of being allowed to remain behind, but the prince would not hear of it.
“I will grant you this favour,” he answered. “I will leave two of your people, and six of my own, who are sick, to assist in taking care of the waggon; but you and the rest must accompany me on horseback, and view the battle, even if you do not take a part in it. I want to show you how we Zulus fight, and how we treat our enemies when we gain the victory.”
Chapter Ten.
A battle in Zululand.
Cetchwayo’s army, like a devouring host of locusts, advanced across the country in an extended line, burning the kraals belonging to the chiefs who had sided with Umbulazi, or were supposed to have sided with him, trampling down their mealy fields, and destroying their crops. Old men, women, and children were indiscriminately put to death when found within the huts. The greater number had fled to die in the woods of hunger, or to be devoured by wild beasts. No mercy was shown to those who were captured. The warriors believed victory was certain, for the prophetess had declared that all the auguries were favourable. One more preliminary performance had to be gone through—a grand war dance of the whole army, to excite their enthusiasm, and to warm up their courage to the highest pitch. The scouts had brought the information that the enemy were still some distance in advance, and that there was no fear of the performance being interrupted. The army had been drawn in on purpose, and were assembled on a level plain backed by a hill to the eastward, which they had just crossed. On either side were woods, while a stream ran in front. On the slope of the hill, Cetchwayo took his stand, with Hendricks and his other prisoners—for such they were compelled to consider themselves—near him.
The regiments, headed by their respective chiefs, or colonels, as they really were, advanced from the woods on either side in due order; the tall plumes of the chiefs, their skin cloaks, and ox-tail adornments, fluttering in the breeze. They advanced, singing a monotonous chant, describing the heroic deeds they were about to perform, till each regiment in turn came in front of Cetchwayo, when halting, the men formed a semi-circle, and began slowly moving their feet and arms. As they grew more excited, their action increased in energy and fierceness, and their songs became louder, until at length there was a perfect storm of singing, yelling, and stamping. At the same time the utmost regularity was kept up; their feet, for they did not move from their positions, leaving deep dents in the ground. Notwithstanding the turmoil and apparent disorder which prevailed, they kept perfect time with their voices, arms, and feet. At length, when well-nigh exhausted from their exertions, having received the approval of their general, they moved on to give place to another regiment, which performed precisely the same manoeuvres, except that the men endeavoured to outdo their predecessors in loudness of voice and vehemence of action.
Ten regiments were thus passed in review, forming a force of as many thousand men.
“I suspect poor Umbulazi will have very little chance against these fellows, if they once come up with him,” observed Denis to Crawford. “His best chance will be to escape across the border, where I do not suppose that Cetchwayo will venture to follow him.”
“From your account, he and his followers are perfect savages, and these fellows are much of the same description,” answered Crawford. “For my part, I wish we were out of the country. I am surprised that Captain Broderick should have ventured to settle in the neighbourhood of such people. I had formed a very different notion of them before I came out.”
“Of course they are very much like other Kaffirs,” said Denis. “They have no more regard for human life than they have for that of the animals they chase. They have become formidable from the way they have been trained by a succession of clever chiefs like Cetchwayo, though I don’t suppose that old Panda has ever done much to maintain good discipline in his army. However, as Cetchwayo is well disposed towards the English, he will not give much trouble to the colony.”
“Not as long as he considers it to his advantage to keep friends with the English,” remarked Crawford. “But suppose they offend him, how will he act?”
“A few red coats and our colonial militia would soon keep him in order, should he show any inclination to quarrel,” said Denis.
The conversation was interrupted by a loud shout from Cetchwayo ordering the army to advance, when they spread out as before, forming one vast semi-circle, that is, the wings were in advance of the main body, so that should an enemy be encountered, they might close in and surround him. In this order they advanced until dark, when they halted, each man carrying his provisions, so that there was no necessity for forming a camp or lighting a fire, which would have shown their position to the enemy. Our friends, who had also brought some food in their holsters, lay down on the ground near Cetchwayo.
The night passed quietly, with only an occasional alarm from wild beasts, who however speedily decamped on finding themselves in the neighbourhood of so vast a concourse of people, and at early dawn the army again advanced. In a short time much excitement was caused among the ranks, for scouts came continually hurrying back with information respecting the movements of the enemy.
A line of hills of no great elevation rose in front, extending north and south for a considerable distance. These had to be surmounted, when Cetchwayo told Hendricks that he expected to find Umbulazi’s force on the other side. Not a word was spoken along the whole line; for although the warriors themselves could not have been heard by the main body of the enemy, the scouts might have discovered their advance.
Cetchwayo now told Hendricks and his companions to dismount and lead on their horses, keeping a short distance in the rear of the army.
The Zulu warriors advanced in the same order as before, as fast as the nature of the ground would allow, concealing themselves as much as possible, by taking advantage of the trees and bushes and tufts of tall grass, so that a person standing on the summit of the hill, if he had perceived them at all, would have had no conception of their numbers. Whenever shelter was wanting, they stooped down, and very often crawled along the ground like snakes amid the grass.
The two wings could now be seen creeping up the hillside. Shortly afterwards the main body reached the bottom, and also began to ascend. Occasionally a herd of deer or smaller game, driven out of their coverts, started off, some making for the hill, others darting to the one side or the other, probably to fall victims to the noiseless assegais of the warriors.
Hendricks, although as resolved as ever not to engage in the fight, was still compelled to move forward. The hill covered with trees afforded as much shelter as the lower ground had done. On gaining the summit, in the rear of the troops, he was able to obtain a view over the country beyond. It was a comparatively level region, with a broad river running across it. On the nearer side of the river, and at no great distance from the bottom of the slope, could be seen the forces of Umbulazi. It was tolerably evident from the movement among them that they had just obtained information of the approach of Cetchwayo’s army. The chiefs were marshalling their men, some facing the hill, some preparing for the assault on either side, but it appeared to Hendricks that they were uncertain in what direction they might be attacked.
Slowly, and still keeping themselves concealed, Cetchwayo’s warriors descended the hillside. Nearer and nearer they drew to the foe, the wings being gradually extended, and at the same time closing in towards each other.
Thus, even before the attack had commenced, Umbulazi’s force was almost entirely surrounded. It had probably been Cetchwayo’s intention completely to hem in his enemies; but before there was time to do so, they had discovered his right wing, and apparently supposing it to be the main body, advanced to meet it. On this he gave the signal to his whole force to commence the attack, and in an instant, from the hitherto silent woods and thickets, hideous shrieks and yells arose, and the warriors, no longer taking pains to conceal themselves, rushed on at headlong speed, clashing their shields and quivering their assegais.
The rear of Umbulazi’s force was completely taken by surprise. To fly was impossible, either to the right hand or to the left; their own people engaged with the enemy in front, preventing them from moving in that direction. Their only resource was to face about and endeavour to drive back their assailants, or to defend themselves to the last. Now the main body appearing rushed down on what had been their right flank, and the slaughter commenced.
Vastly outnumbered and completely surrounded, they fought with the energy of despair. Some few of the younger men, seeing relatives and friends among their assailants, pleaded for mercy, but they pleaded with those to whom mercy was unknown. The sharp assegais of Cetchwayo’s warriors did their death work rapidly and surely. His victorious bands pressed forward, closing in on their victims.
Hendricks stood observing the battle through his telescope, which he occasionally handed to Crawford and Denis. The scene enacted on the ground near the foot of the hill could be clearly observed with the naked eye, but through the glass alone could be distinguished what was taking place in the distance.
One path leading towards the river alone remained open, and towards it a few who had been posted in that direction were seen endeavouring to make their escape. The greater number were pursued and overtaken; but one warrior, who had exhibited wonderful activity, kept those chasing him at bay, and hurling his assegais with unerring aim, brought one after the other to the ground; then once more resuming his flight, he gained the river, and, plunging in, was no more seen.
“Well, I’m glad that poor fellow got off,” exclaimed Denis, who had been watching him anxiously. “I hope he’ll make his escape; for he must be very brave, or he would not have turned round and fought his enemies in the way he did. It is dreadful to see what is going on below us.”
The battle-field had now become a scene of indiscriminate slaughter. Here and there a few groups could be discerned standing amidst their fallen comrades, supporting one of their chiefs, and hurling back the assegais aimed at them, which they had caught on their shields, and which had fallen at their sides; but the numbers in these groups were rapidly diminishing: first one man fell, then another, then another, until several were seen to fall together, and at last their enemies, rushing on with triumphant shrieks, and hurling their assegais, brought the remainder to the ground, finishing those who had fallen with repeated thrusts of their sharp weapons. At length but one group remained in the midst of the corpse-strewn field. They gazed fiercely round them, well knowing that ere long they must be like those lying dead at their feet. Still they fought on, keeping their assailants at bay. In their midst was a chief, known by his tall plume and stalwart figure, a very Ajax in appearance. Cetchwayo, seeing the determined resistance offered, and that numbers of his men were falling, summoned a company of his own regiment, and led them on to the attack. The struggle was fierce, but of short duration. Scarcely a minute elapsed before he was seen to sweep over the spot, trampling on the bodies of the slain, into which his followers were fiercely plunging their weapons. Of the adherents of Umbulazi, who in all the pride of manhood had a short hour before occupied that now blood-stained field, not a man remained alive.
“Now is our time to make our escape from this fearful scene of slaughter,” exclaimed Hendricks. “The savages will be too much engaged in rejoicing over their victory to think of us, and we are not bound to remain here longer than we choose.”
Their guards, it should have been said, excited beyond all control at the scene of bloodshed, had rushed down to join in the work of slaughter. Not a moment was to be lost. Tightening their saddle-girths, the party mounted. “You go ahead, Denis, and lead, and I will bring up the rear,” said Hendricks. “We shall gain the waggon, and be able to push on towards the border, before Cetchwayo sends in pursuit of us, if he thinks it worth while to do so. Having gained a victory, he will be in an especially good humour; but if we remain now, he will perhaps take it into his head to detain us for the purpose of compelling us to witness his triumph.”
This was said as the party were preparing to mount. They had retained their arms, and as their horses had moved only at a slow pace, and had had plenty of time to feed, they were prepared for a long ride.
Hendricks gave the word, and Denis leading, off they started. They were soon down the hill and across the plain which they had before traversed, making a direct course for the spot where the waggon and its guards had been left. Hendricks occasionally turned his head to ascertain if they were pursued; but as no one was to be seen, he felt satisfied that Cetchwayo had not discovered their flight, and the probability was that he would not do so for many hours to come. As much of the ground was level, they did not spare their steeds until they reached the waggon, some hours before sundown.
The Hottentot and Kaffir servants welcomed them with every sign of joy. Not aware of the superiority of Cetchwayo’s army over that of his rival, they had feared that he might have been defeated, and that the pursuing enemy had attacked them in revenge for their being associated with him.
Hendricks instantly gave the order to inspan, and bestowing presents on the Zulus who had been left to assist in guarding the waggon, he advised them immediately to return home.
They, without demur, took their departure, well satisfied with the presents they had received, and the oxen were urged on at as rapid a rate as they could be got to move. The ground was fortunately level, so that good progress was made, and several miles were got over before sunset.
They camped in a hollow, the ground round which was covered with trees, so that the light of their fire could not be seen to any distance.
The chirrup of the cricket on the hearth is not more familiar to the inhabitants of an old country house in England, than is the roar of the lion to the ears of the traveller in Africa. Our friends had become so accustomed to the low mutterings, as well as to the loud roars of the king of beasts, that, provided the sounds came from a distance, they scarcely interrupted their slumbers. Occasionally, however, when a brute more savage and hungry than usual, ventured up to the camp, evidently on a foraging expedition, it was not only difficult but impossible for any one to sleep; indeed, common prudence required that all should be on the watch, with their weapons ready to defend themselves or the cattle, should they be attacked.
As there was still nearly an hour of daylight to spare, Hendricks, with Lionel and Denis, who were always ready to start on a hunting expedition, went off in search of game, accompanied by the dogs, who, although they have not often been mentioned, had always faithfully done their duty in giving due notice of the approach of strangers or any animals.
They had not got far from the camp when Hendricks shot an antelope, and to save the necessity of returning at once, it was hoisted up on to the branch of a tree to prevent its being eaten by the jackals and hyenas which would quickly have found it out. They went on for some distance farther, when Lionel, looking ahead, exclaimed—
“See, see! the grass is moving; there is some beast within.” And scarcely had he spoken, than out sprang a lion, which, however, instead of coming towards them, made its way in the direction of the camp.
“It’s as well we secured our game, or the brute would have had it,” observed Denis, as they followed the lion. “I only hope our friends in camp will be on the look-out, or that brute will be among them and do some mischief.”
As soon as the lion had turned tail, the three dogs set off in pursuit, Hendricks and his companions following. The lion at first went along leisurely; but when he heard the barking of the dogs and the shouts of the hunters, who wanted him to turn so that they might get a shot at him, he increased his speed.
In a short time Fangs got ahead of the other two dogs, and at length almost reached the heels of the lion. This showed his courage more than his discretion; for had the lion turned suddenly, he would have paid dearly for his boldness; but probably the lion was scarcely aware how close his pursuer was to him. On coming to the antelope in the tree, he stopped and evinced a strong inclination to try and pull it down. He saw, however, that it was beyond his reach, and again went on, until he was in sight of the waggon and oxen; but fortunately he was seen, and the Hottentots and Kaffirs began shrieking and shouting to drive him off, while Crawford and Percy seized their guns, ready to fire as soon as he should come near enough.
Fangs had kept all this time close after the chase, but well knew that one kick from those powerful hind-paws would send him flying into the air with a cracked skull.
Still, carried away by the excitement of the chase, he was on the point of springing forward to throw himself on the lion’s quarters, when the latter became aware of his being so near, and making a bound forward, stopped, turned, and crouched. Fangs saw his danger, and turned to flee, barely in time to escape the claws of the lion who sprang after him. Away Fangs went, however, fleet as the wind, followed by the lion, with his mane flowing, his ears pricked forward, and his tail erect. The dog took the direction in which his master was coming; but the lion apparently did not perceive the hunters until he was within range of their rifles.
“Now, my lads, show what you can do!” cried Hendricks. “I will reserve my fire in case you should miss, you couldn’t have a finer opportunity. Denis, do you fire first.”
Denis, highly pleased, raised his rifle and fired. His bullet merely grazed the back of the lion, which at that instant, taking alarm, turned aside and bounded off up the hill. The dogs made chase after him; but Hendricks, fearing that they would perhaps encounter the lioness and come to grief, called them back. Unwillingly they obeyed, and although even Fangs, the bravest, would not have ventured to encounter the lion face to face, they were all eager to go in chase of him when turning tail.
Getting down the antelope, they now returned to camp. As it was very probable that the lion would come back as soon as darkness set in, an additional fire was lighted. The horses were secured to the waggon wheels, and the oxen were brought in and also made fast. The antelope flesh was cooked, and eaten with good appetites by the travellers. Scarcely was supper concluded when several roars were heard, some on one side at a short distance, some on the other, close to the camp. Directly afterwards the horrid chorus was increased by the howl of hyenas and the crying of jackals, more numerous than at any previous occasion during the journey. There was no necessity to order the Hottentots and Kaffirs to be on the watch; for they all well knew the risk they ran of an attack from the lions. Even the animals seemed aware of their danger. The men replied to the roars by shrieks and cries, every now and then firing off a rifle in the direction from which the sounds proceeded. Hendricks, however, considering that three of the party were sufficient to keep watch, ordered the remainder to lie down, either under or close to the waggon, and thus the first part of the night passed unpleasantly by.
Chapter Eleven.
A succession of disasters.
In spite of the wild uproar made by the savage brutes encircling the camp, some of the guards began to doze after they had been on the watch two or three hours. Crawford had undertaken to keep watch while Hendricks turned in. Now that he was getting accustomed to the country, he was anxious to take a more active part than he had hitherto done. With rifle in hand, he continued walking up and down, keeping inside the fires and watching to see that all had sufficient fuel to cause the flames to burn up brightly. Both the horses and oxen were naturally restless while within sound of their dreaded enemies.
He had stopped to look out, when, at the end of the waggon farthest from that to which the horses were secured, he heard the tramp of feet, and looking round, by the light of the fire, he saw one of them loose and trotting away. He instantly called to some of the men to secure the animal, but they either did not hear, or did not understand him, and it was some time before any of them were on their feet, when the horse had disappeared in the darkness.
“You must go and bring it back,” he shouted, and was himself about to set off in chase of the horse, when Umgolo, who had been awakened, stopped him, and gave him to understand by signs and such few English words as he could speak, that he would run a great risk of being attacked himself, and would to a certainty not recover the animal that night.
“If he escapes the lions, he may come back, or we may find him in the morning,” said the Kaffir.
Crawford, acknowledging the wisdom of this advice, remained in the camp, looking out occasionally, however, in the hopes of seeing the horse return. After some minutes Umgolo touched him on the arm.
“Hark! do you hear that sound?” he asked.
Some suppressed growls reached their ears.
“The horse is dead, and the lions are gnawing his bones. They are growling at the hyenas and jackals who have gathered round to join in the feast, but the lions won’t let them until they have eaten their fill.”
Presently to the growls of the lions was added the howling, shrieking, chattering, and barking of the hyenas, mingled with the cries of the jackals, producing a most unearthly chorus.
“Come, let us try and kill the brutes,” said Denis, and he and Crawford walked out a few yards from the camp; but, although they fired several shots, no effect was produced; and Umgolo calling to them to come back, lest a lion should pounce upon them, they returned to the camp. The sound of the shots had awakened Hendricks, which the howlings of the wild beasts had failed to do. He rated Denis and Crawford for their folly in leaving the camp.
“In spite of your firearms, you might have been seized in the darkness by one of those savage brutes, who would not dare to face you in daylight,” he observed. “Never, if you can help it in these wilds, be away at night from the light of a fire.”
It was found in the morning that Crawford’s horse was missing. On searching round the camp, two leg bones and a few pieces of skin were discovered, the sole remains of the unfortunate animal, the rest had been carried off by beasts of prey. As soon as the oxen had been watered and had had time to pick up some grass, the party inspanned and proceeded on their journey.
Fortunately Hendricks had a couple of spare horses, one of which he lent Crawford, who would otherwise have had to march on foot, or have been indebted to his friends, who would undoubtedly have insisted on his getting into their saddles while they walked. For three days they travelled on as fast as the oxen could move. Hendricks, being as anxious to get as far as possible from Cetchwayo and his warriors, instead of taking a circuitous route, as he had at first intended, through a fertile and thickly inhabited district, proceeded on a direct line across a wild and barren region with which he was but little acquainted. It abounded, however, he knew, in game, and he hoped that water, sufficient for the wants of the oxen and horses, would be found. Scarcely half an hour passed, that a herd of grotesque gnus, with the heads of bisons and horns of oxen, or of graceful quaggas, swift blesbocs, or light and elegant springbocs, did not pass in sight, in hundreds, or rather in thousands, across the plain. Although it was no easy matter to get up with them, still Hendricks was too experienced a hunter to be baffled, and he never failed, when he went out for the purpose, to bring back an ample supply of meat for the party. Water, however, was becoming scarce. The supply which had been brought for the use of the men was well-nigh exhausted, while the holes in which it was expected there would be enough for the animals, were found to be dry. The country they were traversing was level, thinly scattered over with trees and small bushes, and there was abundance of grass; so that cattle and horses were able to obtain food, and such moisture as the grass afforded, but had had for two days not a drop of water; still, as the only hope of obtaining any was to push forward, they moved on as fast as the animals could drag the waggon. Hendricks, the Kaffirs and Hottentots, accustomed to privations of all sorts, uttered no complaints, but the younger members of the party began to suffer greatly from thirst.
“I’d give a guinea, if I had it, for a thimbleful of water,” exclaimed Denis, “for I feel as if I could drink the Liffy dry.”
Night came on, and they were compelled at length to outspan, when the poor oxen lay down overcome with fatigue. To move during the night was impossible, and the whole party sat round their fires in no happy mood. They attempted to take supper, but few could swallow a particle of food. The fires had been lit to keep off the lions heard roaring in the distance, but some time passed before any came near enough to cause disquietude to the oxen, which invariably show their dread of the savage brutes. A vigilant watch was kept, but the night became very dark, and the fires, which for want of fuel had sunk low, scarcely shed their light far enough to show the oxen lying down a short distance off. Most of the party had turned in; but Hendricks himself, with Percy, who had offered to assist him, were keeping the first watch.
“How soon do you think we shall reach Falls Farm?” asked Percy.
“In five or six days, possibly, if we are fortunate enough to find water,” answered Hendricks; “but I fear that the cattle will become so weak, they will scarcely be able to drag on the waggon. If we don’t discover any to-morrow, we must set off to search for it in different directions. I propose letting Denis and you explore to the north-west, while I ride ahead with Lionel, and Umgolo, with Crawford, if he choose to accompany him, can go off more to the north-east. We shall thus, I hope, fall in before long with what we so much require. The waggon can in the meantime proceed onwards as fast as the poor oxen can drag it.”
“We can’t fail in that way, I hope, to find water,” observed Percy. “So I suppose that I may count on getting home in the time you speak of.”
“Are you tired of the journey?” asked Hendricks.
“Oh, no, on the contrary,” answered Percy. “But I think my father and mother will be growing anxious at our not appearing so much longer after the time they expected us; otherwise I should like to accompany you through the whole of your expedition into the interior. I like the life much better than I fancy I shall being planted down on a farm, and not seeing any one for months together, except my family, though I am sure I shall be very happy with them.”
Just then one of the oxen bellowed loudly.
“Get a lantern from the waggon, Percy; we must see what is the matter,” said Hendricks.
Percy quickly brought the lantern, and they advanced towards the spot; but scarcely had they got half a dozen paces, when a rushing, trampling sound as of many feet was heard, and three of the oxen dashed into the camp, almost through the fire, others apparently taking an opposite direction. At the same time stifled groans reached their ears.
“One of the oxen must be hurt,” observed Percy.
“Yes, but those groans are not made by the poor beast. They are the sounds produced by the lion as he devours his prey, and I must try to interrupt him,” said Hendricks.
As he spoke, he advanced a few paces farther. At that moment Percy caught sight of an animal, certainly not an ox, springing by. Hendricks fired, and the next instant every one in the camp had jumped up, asking what was the matter.
“The matter is, that a lion has killed one of the oxen, and he may destroy several others if we don’t stop his career,” answered Hendricks, rapidly reloading.
He now led the way to where the oxen had been lying down, while the Hottentots secured the three which had come into camp. None of the other oxen were to be seen, except one, which lay motionless on the ground, with its neck broken. In their eagerness to overtake them, the men, in spite of the darkness, would have set off in pursuit, had not Hendricks called them back.
“It would be useless in the dark, and you would run a great risk of being caught by the lion,” he observed. “You must wait till morning, when we will go in search of them; and we may, perchance, find water at the same time, as they will probably head towards it, if they escape from the lion.”
This was the most severe disaster which had yet occurred to the travellers; for in that wild district it would be impossible to replace the oxen, should they not be found.
The men, on being summoned, returned to the camp, but none of them were inclined again to go to sleep, for all were suffering greatly from thirst, and at any moment another lion might pay them a visit.
Morning at length dawned. The body of the ox killed by the lion was discovered about a hundred yards from the camp, a part of the hind-quarters only eaten, the brute having evidently been frightened away by the shot Hendricks fired, though whether it was wounded or not it was impossible to say.
Although they had gone supperless to bed, so parched were their throats that they were unable to take any breakfast. The horses had been secured to the waggon, or they to a certainty would have gone off with the oxen. Most of them, however, were too much knocked up to exert themselves. To recover the cattle was of the first importance. Hendricks therefore found it necessary to alter his plan. The rest of the party undertaking to go on foot in search of water, he selected the only two horses fit for travelling, and rode away with one of the Hottentots to look for the missing cattle, while Crawford and Umgolo, as had been arranged, proceeded in a north-easterly direction. It had been decided, as soon as the oxen were recovered, should they be able to travel, that the waggon was to continue on due north, that they might have no difficulty in again finding it.
The morning was fresh, almost cold, and the air pure; so that had not Denis and Percy, who, accompanied by Gozo and two dogs, were the first to start, been suffering from thirst, and very much from hunger also, they would have been able to march merrily along. As it was, by chewing some grass which they plucked as they went on, they somewhat lessened their sufferings. They kept their eyes about them for any signs which might indicate water. Though here and there shrubs, and even trees of some size, grew out of the sandy soil, yet no moisture could be discovered. Fewer animals than usual were seen, but occasionally a herd of gnus or antelopes bounded across their path, but too far off for a shot.
As the sun rose the heat increased, but that made them still more anxious to discover water. The poor dogs suffered even more than they did, as they followed at their heels; for even the sight of game did not induce them to scamper off as they would have done on other occasions.
“It will never do to give in,” said Denis, as Percy proposed sitting down under the shade of a tree to rest, where the dogs had already sought shelter.
“I don’t wish to give in; but if we cannot find water soon, I fear that it will be impossible to get on,” answered Percy.
“Look at poor Gozo, he seems to be suffering even more than we are, though I should have supposed that he would have held out the longest.”
The old Kaffir threw himself down in the shade, and lay on his back gasping. “I shall die, masters, I shall die!” he said; “I cannot go farther.”
“Don’t be saying that, Gozo; you’ll get up after a little rest, and we’ll find water before long; if not, we may fall in with some juicy roots: I have heard that such grow in some parts of the country where the soil is sandy, and so we are likely to discover them here.”
“It won’t do to stop here long,” said Denis. “We must up and away; the sooner we set off, the sooner we shall find water. Come along, rouse up, Gozo; you will be better moving along than lying still.”
The Kaffir thus incited to exertion got on his feet. The party set off, the dogs dragging themselves after their masters, for their instinct told them that there would be no safety for them alone. On and on they went, Denis and Percy doing their best to keep up each other’s spirits. Poor Gozo, however, complained more and more. He had drawn his hunger belt tighter and tighter round his waist, until it looked as if it would cut him in two. His throat, he said, felt as if a hot iron had been run down it; yet, encouraged by Denis, he staggered on. It was too evident that he was growing weaker and weaker, and he declared a last that he could not carry his gun.
“But without it you will not be able to defend yourself, should we be attacked by a lion or lioness,” said Denis.
“No matter: I must die then,” answered Gozo.
“Well, if I carry your gun, will you come on?” asked Denis.
“I’ll try, master, I’ll try,” answered the black as Denis took the gun.
“I must help you to carry it,” said Percy. “I cannot do much to assist the fellow along, but I hope that his weakness is more fanciful than real, and that now he is relieved from the weight of his gun he will move on more briskly.”
For a short distance Gozo staggered on faster than he had done for some time previously, but again his feet moved slower and slower, until coming to a tree he begged that he might lie down under it in the shade and rest.
“But rest means delay, and every minute we are becoming more and more thirsty,” said Denis.
Still Gozo insisted on lying down, and Denis and Percy had to agree to his doing so. As they could not leave him, they sat down by his side.
After remaining a few minutes, however, Denis started up. “Come, this will never do,” he exclaimed; “push on we must; we shall be as exhausted as he is, if we do not soon find water, and we shall not find it by sitting here.”
“I am ready,” said Percy; but when they tried to induce Gozo to rise, he declared that he was utterly unable to move.
“Leave me here, masters,” he groaned out. “If you find water in a short time, come back, but if not go on, for it will be useless to return, as I shall be dead.”
Again and again they endeavoured to induce him to get up, but in vain were all their efforts. At last Denis said, “We must leave him, I fear, though he runs a great risk of being destroyed by some wild beast.”
He then turned to the unhappy native. “We will do as you wish. We will leave you your musket to defend yourself, but I would urge you not to give in; and if you feel yourself stronger, follow us. You will easily distinguish our spoor, and we will fire off our pieces to show you our whereabouts, should we find water,” he said.
With much regret they left poor Gozo, having strong doubts whether they should find him alive on their return. They set off slightly refreshed by their rest. They had not gone far when they caught sight of a single wildebeest, or gnu, scampering along at a great rate, and going almost in the direction they were pursuing.
“Perhaps that animal is making its way towards water,” observed Percy.
“I fear not,” answered Denis. “If so, it would not be alone. It has been separated from the herd; and see, there are some creatures chasing it. They are wild dogs; you can just distinguish their heads moving along the grass in single file; the leader is close at the heels of the poor wildebeest.”
As the dogs came nearer, a whole line amounting to several score could be seen, following exactly one behind the other. Presently the leader took a leap, and alighted on the haunches of the affrighted gnu. Another and another followed, until, borne down by numbers, the gnu was dragged to the ground.
By this time Denis and Percy were near enough to fire with effect. Denis knocked over one of the dogs, and the rest, frightened by the report, turned tail and scampered off. The lads rushed forward, eager to obtain some of the flesh of the gnu. The animal was already dead, so they were saved the trouble of shooting it. They at once cut off some slices, while the two dogs, who had refused to remain with Gozo, ate a hearty meal.
“We must take some of this back to the poor fellow we left under the tree,” said Denis.
Percy agreed; and much revived themselves, they set off by the way they had come. They hurried on, hoping to find Gozo still alive. As they approached they shouted out to give him notice that they were coming. The dogs on this ran forward; but as they got near to the spot, stopped and gazed towards it, and then came back.
“What can have happened?” asked Percy. “Surely Gozo cannot have died during the short time we have been absent, yet otherwise the dogs would have remained.”
They hurried on to find Gozo lying at full length where they had left him. His eyes were open, but staring meaninglessly. Denis called him by name. He made no reply. He lifted his hand, it felt cold and clammy, and fell as he let it go; his heart had ceased to beat. Notwithstanding this, he pressed some of the juice from the flesh they had brought, into his mouth. They lifted up his head, they rubbed his feet, but all in vain. They saw with sorrow that they had been too late to save him. To remain longer would be useless, and already the journey back had occupied some time.
“We must hurry on to save our own lives,” said Denis; “if we don’t find water in an hour or two, we shall be badly off indeed.”
They therefore left the body of the Kaffir where it lay, his rifle by his side, but they wisely carried off his ammunition, in case their own should run short. Sometimes they thought they saw shrubs which could only grow near water, but on getting up to them they were disappointed at not finding the slightest signs of moisture. Although the flesh of the gnu had greatly revived them, still in a short time their thirst returned. They pressed onward as before, the dogs ranging on either side, apparently aware of what they were in search of, or prompted by instinct to look out for themselves. Still there were no signs of water. They went on for fully an hour more, during which time they could have got over only between two or three miles, for they could not walk very fast.
They had gone some way farther when Percy caught sight of some objects moving over the plain, now stopping, now going on again.
“They are small animals of some sort,” said Denis, to whom he pointed them out. “We must try and get near them without putting them to flight. Depend upon it they are not likely to be far from water.”
There were some bushes at a little distance, to which the lads made their way, in order to get near the creatures without being seen.
“Why, I believe they are baboons!” cried Denis; “the Kaffirs call the creature the chacma. They are hunting for babiana root, which is always full of water. We can drive them off just as they have begun to dig, and before they have got hold of the roots we shall secure as many as we want for ourselves. Had we seen them only a few hours ago, poor Gozo’s life might have been saved.”
They were now getting near to the bushes, and the baboons, being very busy, had fortunately not perceived them. They crept on cautiously until they had got within fifty yards of the animals. There were a couple of dozen at least. Some had got hold of roots which they were eagerly eating, others were busily digging away in the sand. The lads had some difficulty in keeping back the dogs; for as soon as they saw the baboons they made efforts to rush at them, and very probably would have suffered severely in consequence.
“Now,” whispered Denis, “I see three or four have been digging away not far off, evidently expecting to find roots. In a few seconds we’ll fire, then shout, and let slip the dogs.”
They did as he proposed. The baboons, frightened at the unusual sounds, and seeing the unknown creatures coming towards them, scampered off as hard as they could go. Denis and Percy rushed forward to the holes which the baboons had made, and digging eagerly with their hands, each of them soon came to a root, and rubbing off the sand which adhered to the outsides, put them to their mouths. Perfectly refreshing and cool was the pulpy substance, full of the purest water. The dogs eagerly gobbled up the portions they threw away. They went to another and another hole, in each of which a root was found. The effect was almost instantaneous; they at once felt refreshed and strengthened. Having satisfied their own thirst, they found two more roots, which they gave to the dogs; but the baboons had already extracted the roots from the other holes, and after searching for some time they could find no more. Although they themselves felt revived, they did not forget the object of their expedition, and resolved to continue on; but it occurred to Denis that as the baboons had come to the place to obtain roots, it was not likely that they would find any water in the neighbourhood.
“That makes it more important that we should push on as fast as possible,” said Percy; “but I say, Denis, do you think there’s any chance of our getting back to the waggon to-night? It is already late.”
Denis looked at the sun, which was sinking towards the west.
“Faith! I was not thinking how time was passing,” he answered; “and, to say the truth, I’m pretty sure we shan’t get back, and we must make up our minds to camp out. If we keep up a good fire to scare away the lions and other savage beasts, there will be no danger and no great hardship.”
Percy, who did not like the thought of passing the night in the wilderness, proposed that they should strike away to the right, or about due east, in the expectation of falling in with the track of the waggon, which he hoped might have been able to move on. Denis was of opinion that there was no chance of their getting as far before nightfall, and that it was very possible the oxen might not have been found, or if they had been found, that they would have been able to make much progress towards the north.
“We shall be wiser if we continue our search for water, and look out for some food; for now—thanks to the roots—my thirst is quenched, and I am getting very peckish,” he added.
“So am I,” said Percy; “but I am too anxious to get back to the waggon to think much about my hunger.”
“You’ll not be so indifferent about food before long, let me tell you,” observed Denis. “You’ll then feel that you’d rather bring down a springboc, or gnu, or any other animal we may come across, than see the waggon moving ever so merrily along. I know what it is to be starving, and to feel that one’s life depends on bringing down the game one is chasing. Come, move on! we will keep our eyes about us on the chance of finding something to shoot. When the sun gets lower, we will look out for a clump of trees or bushes which will shelter our camp from the night wind, and give us fuel for our fire.”
“I would rather find a stream or water hole,” said Percy.
“So would I, provided we could afterwards get something to eat and fuel to cook it; but if not, we must make the best of circumstances. Many people have been in a worse situation than we are, so don’t let us begin to complain yet,” said Denis.
His indomitable spirits encouraged Percy, and they trudged on in the direction they were before going, looking eagerly about them, both for signs of water and for any animal which might appear near enough to give them a chance of shooting it. Denis was sure that Hendricks, should he find water, would at once set off on horseback in search of them in the direction he had desired them to take, and by his experience would quickly come upon their spoor and follow them up, or if he could not come himself, that he would send Umgolo. They were, of course, very sorry for the loss of poor Gozo, who would have been of great assistance both in obtaining food and searching for water, if any existed in the neighbourhood. Meantime the sun was sinking lower and lower, but neither game nor signs of water had they discovered. In vain Raff and Fangs ranged widely on either side of them, as eager as they were to find it.
Some way to the left there appeared a wood. The trees were not very high, but they would afford them the shelter and fuel they required, and Denis proposed that they should make towards them.
“It cannot be helped; we shall have to go without our suppers, I fear; but we must hope to find something for breakfast,” said Denis.
Percy groaned. He had become, as Denis guessed he would, very hungry, and the lower limb of the sun had almost reached the horizon. They knew that soon after it had set darkness would come on, when it would be difficult to select a suitable spot for camping, or obtain time for collecting fuel. They had not gone far when Percy exclaimed, “Hallo, what’s that? What an enormous bird!” And Denis, looking to the right, in which direction Percy pointed, saw an ostrich scampering away across the plain.
Both the dogs instantly started off in chase, but the ostrich quickly outstripped them; and Denis, fearing that they might lose themselves or get exhausted to no purpose, called them back.
“Did you mark the spot it started from?” he asked eagerly. “We must try to find it. The chances are it was sitting on its eggs, and if they are tolerably fresh, they will serve us for food and liquid too.”
“I think I can calculate the whereabouts of the place it rose from,” said Percy; and they hastened on, keeping a little apart, that they might be able to examine a wider extent of ground than if they had been together. Denis could see nothing like a nest, and he began to fear that the ostrich had been merely resting after being chased, and that their hunt would be fruitless.
“It can’t be helped; we must make for the wood, or we shall not be able to see our way,” he shouted to Percy.
Just then the latter exclaimed, “Hurrah! hurrah! five magnificent eggs!” and he held up one of them with both hands.
Denis hurried to the spot. There, sure enough, resting in the centre of a clump of dry grass, with otherwise very little protection, were four large white eggs besides the one Percy had in his hand, each large enough to afford a good meal to them both.
Their hunger would have prompted them then and there to sit down and eat the contents raw, but Denis wisely advised that they should restrain their appetites and hasten on to the clump of trees. They accordingly each secured two in their handkerchiefs and Percy carried the fifth in his hand.
Although the sun had sunk by the time they got close to the wood, there was still light sufficient to enable them to collect a supply of broken branches and leaves for their fuel.
“Take care that you do not catch hold of a snake, fancying you are about to pick up a stick,” cried Denis. “I nearly did so just now. Fortunately the creature wriggled off more frightened at me than I was at it.”
“You may trust me for that,” said Percy; “but what do you say, instead of sleeping on the ground, to climbing up into a tree? I see one with the branches sufficiently low to enable us to get into it without difficulty. We should at least be out of the reach of lions.”
“Yes, I agree with you it will be the safest place, although not the most comfortable, and we must remember to carry our guns with us, or we may chance to be besieged there as I once was,” answered Denis, coming along with a bundle of sticks. “We’ll light our fire first, and cook an egg. If that is the tree you propose, let us pitch our camp beneath it;” and he threw down the sticks, while Percy hastened to bring those he had collected and left at a little distance.
“Holloa! I saw one of the branches move in a curious fashion,” he exclaimed, looking up at the tree in which they proposed to form their resting-place for the night.
“A branch! why that’s a boa or snake of some sort, big enough to eat us both up, if so disposed,” cried Denis.
They had fortunately not gone sufficiently close to enable the creature to spring down upon them, or the consequences might have been serious.
“We must dislodge that fellow, if we are to get up the tree,” said Denis, raising his rifle. “I can see his head.” And he fired.
The huge snake gave some convulsive struggles, trying to coil itself round and round the branch, but its folds speedily relaxed, and its head hung down towards the ground, still it clung on by its tail, the folds of its huge body twisting and writhing in a manner truly terrific as seen in the dim light beneath the deep foliage of the tree.
“We must put a stop to that fellow’s performances, or he may be doing us some mischief still,” cried Percy; and raising his rifle he fired. In a few seconds down fell the big snake to the ground; its tail, however, still kept moving, and Denis, who had reloaded his rifle with small shot, stepping forward, discharged it at the tail end of the body. The effect was instantaneous—its struggles ceased—the huge snake lay dead.
“I only hope there may not be more up the tree. You see we might have been in as much danger among the branches as on the ground,” said Denis.
They both looked up, going round and round the tree, but could discover nothing moving, so they came to the conclusion that the boa had been its only occupant.
“It won’t be pleasant to have this fellow close under us, as the hyenas and jackals will to a certainty collect to feast off him before long,” said Denis. “We must drag him off as far as we can. To be sure, if we hadn’t found the ostrich eggs, we should have been thankful to get some steaks off him; as it is, we may as well cut a few for ourselves, in case the eggs should not be as fresh as we might desire; while Raff and Fangs will have no objection to as many as we like to give them.”
“You don’t mean to say that we may have to eat some of that horrible snake!” cried Percy.
“I mean to say it is possible that we may be very glad to eat a good junk of it,” answered Denis. “We may fancy all the time that we are banqueting on a magnificent sturgeon.”
“Oh, do let us get the fire lighted first, and cook an egg,” cried Percy. “Without food I am sure I could not drag that snake a dozen feet.”
To this Denis agreed. Having match-boxes in their pouches, they quickly lighted their fire, but they had to wait till some ashes were formed before they could begin to cook one of the eggs. In the meantime Denis cut some slices from the thicker part of the snake’s body, and some hunches which the hungry dogs very speedily disposed of. He then began to drag it away, but alone he could scarcely move it, so that Percy, in spite of his hunger, was obliged to assist him. They did not get far, however, but hurried back, pretty well exhausted, to cook the eggs they were longing for. Denis performed the operation in a scientific manner, by making a small hole at one end, and then putting in some pepper and salt which they had brought with them, and stirring the inside about with a stick till the egg was cooked. It was soon done in this fashion; and greatly to the satisfaction of Percy, who dreaded having to sup off the snake’s flesh, it was found to be perfectly sweet. Although they had no water, they were able from the liquid nature of the egg to eat a small portion of the biscuit they had in their pouches. The meal greatly restored their strength, as well as Percy’s spirits.
Having made up the fire to give them light, they dragged the body of the snake still farther from the camp. Denis was inclined to remain under the tree, where he could stretch himself at full length on the ground. Percy entreated him to come up into the branches.
“But supposing we were both to go to sleep, and the fire was to go out, and a lion was to come prowling this way, what would become of us?” asked Denis. At last he agreed to do as Percy wished, and making up the fire so as to give them plenty of light, they climbed into the tree with their guns and four ostrich eggs.
“We must get up the dogs also, or some wild beast or other may carry them off,” said Denis. “Come along, Raff, old fellow, catch hold of this;” and Denis, leaning down from the lowest branch, held out his handkerchief, which Raff, clearly understanding what he was to do, caught hold of, and was quickly hauled up. Nothing however would induce Fangs to follow his example, and at last they were compelled to abandon the attempt to get him up, he having evidently made up his mind to pass the night at the foot of the tree—probably that he might enjoy at his leisure a further meal off the snake. Greedy Fangs, like many human beings, influenced by sinister motives, he was doomed to suffer severely for his folly.
They soon selected for themselves and Raff three tolerably secure places among the forked branches, where they hoped to be able to pass the night, if not in a very comfortable manner, at all events without the risk of being pounced upon by a hungry lion.