Chapter Twelve.
In search of water.
After the fatigue and anxiety they had gone through, it was not long before Denis and Percy began to feel excessively drowsy.
“Take care you don’t fall off, Percy,” said Denis; “or let your gun drop either. I’ve fastened mine to my neckerchief, and I’d advise you to do the same.”
“I have jammed myself and my gun between two branches, so that there is no chance of falling,” answered Percy; “but I’ll make fast my ostrich eggs, for I would not lose them on any account, lest we should have to breakfast off that horrible snake.”
“Little chance of that,” murmured Denis. “By to-morrow morning there won’t be a scrap of it left.”
Denis said this in a very drowsy tone. His eyes were fixed on the fire, which seemed to him sometimes to flare up with unusual brightness, then to flit about, then totally to disappear, for the best of reasons, his eyes were closed. Percy was also just going off, when his ears were assailed by a hideous uproar of shrieks and howls and barks.
Looking out from his leafy covert, he could see a number of creatures moving about in the direction of the spot to which the body of the snake had been dragged. He guessed what they were, and was very thankful that he and his companion were safe up the tree.
“Do you hear those brutes, Denis?” he asked; but there was no answer. He could see the place where he supposed his friend lay, but could not reach him. At first the dreadful idea occurred that he might have fallen off, and he was about to crawl along the branch to feel for him, when the light from the fire flickered on one of his arms, and he knew that he must be fast asleep. He had not the cruelty to awaken him, and indeed after he got accustomed to the hideous chorus raised by the hyenas and jackals, his own eyes began to close. He could just make out Fangs by the light of the fire, crouching down close to the trunk, and every now and then giving vent by a low growl to his anger as he watched the savage creatures devouring the snake on which he had intended to breakfast.
Percy had scarcely shut his eyes, when he was startled by hearing a terrific roar, and looking towards where the hyenas and jackals had been holding their revels, he saw them scampering away in every direction, while the glare of the fire fell on the head and shoulders of an enormous lion. The king of brutes, however, looked disappointed at finding only a few scraps of a mangled snake, instead of the repast he expected, and not deigning to touch the leavings of the jackals, he advanced a short distance towards the tree. Afraid to approach nearer the fire, he stopped and began to roar loudly.
“Roar away, old fellow,” cried Percy. “You’ll not get hold of us.”
That was true enough so far as he and Denis and Raff were concerned, but the case was very different with regard to poor Fangs. Between him and the lion there was only a small fire, which the latter might spring over at a single bound. He prudently neither barked nor growled, but shrank closer and closer to the trunk, while the lion stood within a dozen yards of him, every now and then uttering a terrific roar.
To Percy’s surprise, Denis slept on in spite of the roaring. He was probably dreaming about it, but it had not the effect of awakening him. Percy thought of shooting the lion and trying to save Fangs, but found that he could not fire without changing his position, and he was afraid, in attempting to do so, that he might fall to the ground, he therefore contented himself with watching the lion. The animal evidently suspected that there was something up the tree, and having roared for some minutes, he began to circle round it, keeping, however, at a respectful distance. Would Fangs escape his scrutiny? Percy could no longer see the dog, for the fire was getting low, and he was concealed by the roots. Presently there was the sound of a rush, of a heavy blow struck, but not a growl nor a cry was heard, and then the lion bounded off with something in his mouth.
No sooner had he gone, than the hyenas and jackals came back, but they too in a short time, having probably finished the snake, also took their departure. Percy had too much reason to fear that poor Fangs had become the prey of the lion; but his thoughts began to wander, and overcome by fatigue, he was soon fast asleep.
The night passed quietly by. Denis was the first to open his eyes. It was broad daylight. On looking up through the branches, he observed that the sky was completely obscured.
“Hallo! we must have had a long snooze,” he exclaimed. “Are you all right, Percy?”
“Somewhat stiff and sore, but I shall feel better when I have stretched my legs, I daresay,” answered Percy. “Dear me! the fire has gone out.”
“Then the sooner we get down and light it the better,” said Denis.
They descended from their roosting places, Denis carefully handing down the guns to Percy, who went first. They then helped Raff to reach the ground.
“Take care! I saw a lion close to the tree, just before I went to sleep, and he may perhaps be in the neighbourhood,” observed Percy.
“You dreamed about one probably, as I did,” said Denis, “and a fearful roaring I fancied he made.”
Percy assured him that he had seen a real lion, and described it so minutely, and the visit of the jackals and hyenas, that Denis was almost convinced. He was thoroughly so when, on looking towards the spot where the snake had been, he saw that not a particle of it remained.
“Hallo! what has become of Fangs?” he exclaimed.
“The lion, I fear, has carried him off,” answered Percy.
Of this there could be no doubt, for no trace of the poor dog could be discovered, except a few drops of blood close to the base of the tree where he had been lying down.
“The chances are, the lion has gone to a distance, and won’t come back at all events until we have lighted a fire,” observed Denis, as they set to work to collect fuel, when without loss of time they cooked another ostrich egg for breakfast. They then started on their tramp, fancying that, although there was no sun to guide them, they could easily make their way by continuing the same course as they had followed on the previous day.
After going a short distance, still unsuccessful in their search for water, Percy again suggested that they should keep to the right, so as to fall in with the waggon. To this Denis agreed, and they accordingly turned, as they supposed, to the east. As, however, there was no wind, they could not be certain that they were keeping in a direct line. Had there been any prominent objects by which they could steer, their minds would have been more comfortable on the subject. After going some distance, Percy declared that he thought they must be up to the course the waggon was to take. Seeing a tall tree a little distance ahead, they made towards it, and agreed to climb into the topmost branches, that they might take a look-out, hoping that they should see the waggon coming along. Percy, who was well accustomed to climbing, offered to mount the tree, while Denis took charge of his gun and one of the remaining ostrich eggs which he had carried. The tree was more difficult to get up than he had supposed, but he managed at length to reach a high bough, from whence he could obtain a wide view around.
“I can see nothing of the waggon,” he shouted. “The country looks everywhere equally arid and barren, except to the northward, and there I see some trees, which from their bright green hue must grow near water.”
“Well, then, come down, and we will make towards them,” said Denis; and as soon as Percy had descended, they set off in the direction he had indicated.
They were getting very thirsty. Had the sun been shining, they would have suffered even more than they did; but as it was, their throats were parched and dry, and they eagerly pressed forward, in the hope of speedily obtaining water.
Their disappointment was proportionally great when, arriving at the trees towards which they had been directing their course, no stream or pool could be found.
Percy, who had hitherto kept up bravely, threw himself on the ground, almost in despair.
“Oh, I am so thirsty! What shall we do?” he cried.
“I’ll tell you what we must do—get up and push along,” answered Denis. “I fancy that I see some more trees, much greener than any we have yet passed, and the chances are we shall find water near them.”
Percy, thus encouraged, got up. He had no wish to give in as poor Gozo had done. It was very trying, but the lads had stout hearts, and kept up bravely. They reached the trees at last, once more to be disappointed. Accompanied by Raff, who was suffering as much as they were, they ran here and there, attracted by a shrub looking fresher than usual, then by a depression in the ground.
Percy, who had gone some distance, shouted, “Hurrah! here are signs of water.”
Denis hurried to the spot. The ground sloped down to where Percy was standing, looking into a deep basin or hollow. The bottom was moist. They both jumped down, digging away with their hands. Though the sand was wet, no actual water could they see. They somewhat allayed their burning thirst by putting the moist sand to their mouths. The appearance of the moisture encouraged them to hope that they might get to good water at last. Still they dug and dug with the same result as before. At length Denis stopped.
“The sand is getting drier instead of moister, and I am very much afraid that this is merely a hole once full of rain, which being low down and sheltered has not been dried up by the sun.”
Percy agreed with him, and all they could do was to suck some of the still moist sand, and to place it on the back of their necks, which gave them temporary relief. It was very evident that all their labour had been in vain.
“It cannot be helped,” cried Denis. “Forward is the word, and on we must go. Perhaps before long we shall find another hole with water at the bottom, or some more roots, though unless some baboons help us, I don’t know how we shall discover them.”
“I wish that we could feel a little more certain we are going in the right direction,” observed Percy. “If the sun would but come out, I should be more happy in my mind on that score.”
The clouds, however, hung as thickly as before from the sky. Had they sent down their contents, the wanderers would have been relieved from the burning thirst from which they were again suffering.
Although there was no sun, the air was hot and oppressive, and they began to feel much fatigued from their long tramp. Still they felt that it would be folly to halt while they had strength left to go on. So they pushed forward mile after mile. Denis declared that he was certain they were going in a north-westerly direction, from the appearance of the bark on the trees, which on that side was dry and perfectly free from moisture, while on the other, whence the rain generally came, here and there a few fungi and a little moss could occasionally be discovered. Percy did not like to express doubt about the correctness of his friend’s opinion, but he was not convinced that he was right.
Another night was approaching. Percy, less inured to fatigue than his companion, felt that unless he could obtain water and rest, he could scarcely hope to live through it. Still he struggled on, Denis doing his best to encourage him.
“Lean on my shoulder, and let me carry your gun,” he said; “you’ll get on better then; and when we camp, and you have had another ostrich egg, you’ll find your strength restored.”
“If I can manage to eat it,” murmured Percy, “but I much doubt whether I can get even that down my throat.”
“Never fear; I see some thick bushes, and I fancy some rocks beyond. We’ll camp there, if you find yourself unable to go farther; and we shall have plenty of fuel for our fire, and who knows but that we may find water?”
Denis said this in a no very confident tone, for he was almost beginning to despair of discovering what they were so eagerly in search of. Still he hoped that rest and food, and the cooler air of night, might restore Percy, and that they might push on for another day, at all events.
Raff continued creeping after them, the very picture of misery, his tongue hanging out, and his head down. Every now and then he would look up to their faces in the most piteous manner, as if to ask when they were going to find water. The poor dog was suffering from hunger as well as thirst; for although he had licked the ostrich egg shells clean, he had got but little nourishment out of them. At last the bushes seen in the distance were reached, and Percy, sinking on the ground, declared that he could go no farther.
“Well then, we will camp here,” said Denis; “and while you rest, I’ll collect some wood for our fire.”
Raff crouched down by the side of Percy, though his eyes followed his master while he was employed as he proposed. He was not long in collecting a sufficient supply of sticks to commence a fire.
“I’ll get more while the egg is cooking,” he said, throwing down the bundle. The fire was soon burning up brightly, and an egg was put on. Percy had just strength enough to watch it, while Denis collected some more sticks. He then came and sat down by the side of Percy, to whom he kept talking, while he stirred the egg. “I think it must be done now,” he said. “Come, eat away, old fellow, and you’ll soon be yourself again.”
“It’s water I want! it’s water I want!” murmured Percy.
“But as we haven’t water, the egg is the next best thing you can take,” said Denis, helping him.
But poor Percy could scarcely gulp it down. All the time Raff was looking up as much as to say, “I wish you’d give me some of that; I’d eat it fast enough.” Denis could not resist the imploring looks of the poor dog, and gave him a portion of his own share.
The usual noises of the African wilds were absent,—not even the note of a bird was heard. Suddenly Denis lifted his head in the attitude of listening.
“Hark, Percy!” he said. “I heard a peculiar murmur. Yes, I am nearly certain it is the sound of falling water. Do you listen.”
“I pray Heaven that you are right. I think so,” said Percy.
“Well, then, do you stay here by the fire, and I’ll go and look for it alone, if you are not able to come with me,” said Denis. “Keep your gun on the cock, and your eye about you, in case any brute of a lion or leopard should come near, though I don’t suppose there’s much chance of that.”
Percy tried to rise, but declared his inability to move farther, so Denis set off. The moment Raff saw him going, he crawled after him. Denis had taken both his own and Percy’s water bottle. No sooner had he got round the clump of bushes than he saw before him some rocks, beyond which the ground rose, covered with shrubs, extending away to a considerable distance; but no signs of water could he perceive. He stopped and listened. The same sound as before reached his ears. He could not be mistaken. He went on, until, to his unspeakable joy, he saw a spring of bright sparkling water rushing out of the cliff, falling from rock to rock, but instead of forming a rivulet, it was almost immediately lost in the sand, of which the bottom of the gully was composed. There was one part, however, which he could reach by climbing without much difficulty. Poor Raff, who had followed him thus far, was unable to get up to it, and looked wistfully at him, evidently entreating to have some given him without delay. Denis, having quenched his own thirst, filled the water bottles, and then, looking down at poor Raff, he filled his hat also, and brought that to the dog, who quickly lapped up the contents. Losing as little time as possible, he hastened back to Percy.
“Hurrah!” he exclaimed, as he came in sight of the fire, “I’ve got some water. You’ll soon be all to rights, Percy.”
But Percy did not reply; his heart sank. Could anything have happened? He rushed forward. Percy lay gasping on the ground. He lost not a moment in lifting his friend’s head, in moistening his lips, and then pouring some water down his throat.
Percy at length opened his eyes, and said, “Thank you, thank you; oh, how delicious!”
Denis gave him another draught of water. “There, now I think you can eat some more egg,” he observed. “I propose that we cook the last one. We are sure to fall in with game. If we take plenty of food now, we shall the better be able to go in chase of it.”
At last Percy sat up and managed to eat the remainder of the first egg cooked, and some of the other; then he took another draught of water. He felt that he could drink any quantity of that. It was now too late to continue their journey; indeed, Denis had only time to collect a further supply of sticks before darkness came on. They made up the fire in a semi-circle, and lay down as close to it as they could venture to do without risk of burning themselves, hoping thus to be secure from the attacks of wild beasts, while Raff took a post near them, to act as sentinel.
Poor Percy was soon fast asleep. Denis did his utmost to keep watch; but he also, having made up the fire, soon dropped off. He had been asleep some time when he was aroused by hearing Raff growl and bark. He started up and looked about him, but could see nothing. Indeed, the fire had burned so low, that its embers cast but a faint light to a short distance. Fortunately, he had reserved some sticks, which he immediately threw on the fire. As they burned up, he took another look round, when he saw the dim outline of some animal passing by. Whether a lion, leopard, or hyena, he could not make out. Percy was sleeping so soundly, that he did not like to awaken him; but he determined not to go to sleep himself again if he could help it.
Raff had ceased growling, so he concluded that the animal, frightened by the flames, had gone off. He hoped that it would not return. Had he not been aroused at the moment by his faithful dog, he and his companion might have lost their lives, and he felt grateful for their preservation. He husbanded the remaining sticks with care, for he was afraid that they might not hold out until the morning, and he employed himself by stirring up the embers when they grew dim, and raking them together. At length the sticks were exhausted. He dared not move from the camp to collect more; indeed, he would have had to go to some distance, as he had already picked up all those near at hand.
The fire grew dimmer and dimmer, until at last but a faint semi-circle of embers remained. Shortly afterwards, however, he became aware by seeing shrubs and rocks, which he had been hitherto unable to distinguish, that the light of day was returning, but the clouds still hung so densely around the horizon, that he was unable to ascertain the direction of the east. This he had hoped to do, that they might with greater certainty direct their course. At last the light became sufficient to enable them to proceed. He called Percy, who at once got up, saying that he was greatly refreshed and ready to go on as well as ever, though he wished they had another ostrich egg on which to breakfast.
“We can’t eat our loaf and have it too,” answered Denis, “but I hope we shall have something as good.”
They first made their way to the fountain, where they refreshed themselves with a draught of pure water, and having given as much to Raff as he could drink, they filled their water bottles, washed their faces and heads, and then pushed on, their spirits cheered with the hope of soon obtaining some game, and of falling in with the waggon before the day was over.
They trudged on, and although they saw some animals in the distance, they could not get near enough to distinguish what they were. It showed them, however, that there must be water in the neighbourhood, and they hoped therefore before long to come upon it. Percy had for some time been walking with much less elasticity than when they first started. At last he proposed that they should stop and eat the remainder of the biscuit they carried in their pouches. Having a good supply of water, they could now swallow it, which they could not have done on the previous day. They made towards a tree which would afford them shade, and on reaching it sat down and took their frugal breakfast, but poor Raff had to go without any, as Denis knew that it would be folly to give him any of the biscuit, which would not have satisfied his hunger. Again they went on, looking out anxiously for the tracks of the waggon wheels, or other signs which might indicate that their friends had been that way. Denis at last had to confess that he felt somewhat anxious. The day wore on, and though very thirsty, they husbanded their water for fear of not finding any before night.
They were almost in despair of falling in with game, when they caught sight, issuing from behind a wood in the distance, of a troop of pallahs coming in their direction. Looking about eagerly for some cover behind which they could conceal themselves, until the pallahs came near, they observed a thick bush a short distance ahead; they made for it, and got under cover, they hoped, without having been seen. The animals moved slowly along, feeding as they came. When within a hundred yards of the bush, they turned aside, to the bitter disappointment of the young hunters.
“We must be after them,” said Denis; “and if we can still find cover, we may get near enough to have a shot. Come, let us put our best feet forward. Stoop down as low as you can. Heel, Raff, heel!” he whispered to his dog, who was too well-trained to disobey him, and kept close behind him.
The pallahs kept moving on, sometimes slowly, at other times much faster. Percy felt but little able to follow, though he did his best. On and on they went. Before them they saw a grove of tall trees, towards which the pallahs were directing their course.
“The chances are there’s water not far off, and if the animals go down to drink we shall have a good chance of shooting one,” whispered Denis.
The pallahs reached the wood, but stopped to graze outside it. This enabled Denis and Percy to creep up towards it, at a part some distance from where they were feeding. They thus hoped, by making their way through the wood, to be able to get near enough to the animals to obtain a good shot. They had cautiously crept on for some way when Percy stopped, and seizing his companion’s arm, pointed up to the branch of a tree under which they were about to pass. There, extended at its full length, ready for a spring, lay an enormous leopard. Its eyes were turned away from them, watching the pallahs. They stepped cautiously back, having no doubt that had they attempted to pass under the bough, the leopard would have been down upon them, and probably killed both, as they were close together. They retreated behind a tree, where they stood watching for what would next occur. Denis well knew that should they wound the leopard, and not kill it, it would become a terrible foe.
The pallahs, unsuspicious of danger, at last moved towards the tree, several entering the wood almost together. One approached the fatal bough. Like a flash of lightning, the leopard sprang upon the unfortunate creature, and in an instant it lay dead, struck down by its powerful claws.
“Now is our time,” whispered Denis: “let us fire together; I’ll aim at the leopard’s head; do you fire at its shoulder, and then, without stopping to see if we have killed it, we’ll retreat behind the tree and reload.”
The plan was perfectly carried out. Before the smoke cleared away they had sprung back to their places of concealment, and had begun rapidly reloading. The instant Denis was ready, he cautiously stepped out from behind the trunk.
“Hurrah!” he shouted. “We did better than I expected.”
There, within twenty yards, lay the leopard and the deer, both dead. Under other circumstances they would have been eager to possess themselves of the leopard’s skin, which was of considerable value, but as it was they were far more anxious to obtain a supply of meat. They therefore set to work to cut off as much as they could carry from the pallah, without stopping to skin or disjoint it, while Raff enjoyed an abundant meal from the pieces which his master threw to him. The rest of the pallahs had taken to flight.
“We must remember this spot; and if we find Hendricks before long, he will be glad to send for this skin, supposing it is not torn to pieces in the meantime by the rascally hyenas and jackals.”
After the excitement of the chase, they were tempted to stop and take a draught of water, which nearly exhausted their stock. Anxious to obtain a fresh supply, they made their way through the forest in the hope of coming across a stream, towards which they supposed the pallahs had been bending their steps.
“There’s the water!” suddenly exclaimed Denis; “I see the animals drinking at it.”
The animals were there, but as the young hunters approached they took to flight. Having meat enough, they did not feel justified in firing a shot after them.
On reaching the spot, great was their disappointment to find that although there had been a little water, the pallahs had drunk it almost dry, while the remainder had sunk through the bottom, in which their feet had trampled. Not a drop could they obtain.
The wood formed an oasis in the wilderness; for farther on the country assumed the same barren, arid aspect as before.
“We must either go back to the fountain we left this morning, or push our way over this stony ground as fast as we can,” said Denis.
“Let us go on,” answered Percy; “we may find water again before long, or may fall in with the waggon.”
“Then I vote we fortify ourselves first with some meat,” said Denis; and collecting some wood, they speedily had a fire lighted, and some of the venison roasting before it.
Eager to prosecute their journey, after a short rest, they again set off. Night overtook them, however, and they had only just time to reach some bushes, which afforded but slight shelter and a scanty supply of firewood, before darkness came on.
They laboured in collecting sticks as long as the light lasted, and then, having made up their fire, cooked and eaten their supper, and drunk the remainder of their water, they lay down close to it, fatigue preventing them from troubling their minds as to what might happen during the night.
Chapter Thirteen.
The journey continued.
Overcome by fatigue, both the young hunters fell fast asleep. Watched over by a merciful Providence, no savage animals came near them. Not a growl or bark did Raff utter during the night; and when morning broke, Denis, who was the first to awake, was somewhat dismayed to find that the fire had completely gone out. He was not long in scraping the ashes together, and with the remainder of the sticks he had gathered relighted it and put on some venison steaks to cook.
When sufficiently done, he roused up Percy, who was greatly astonished to find that night had passed away. They did not fail to return thanks to God, who had taken care of them during the hours of darkness; for they felt, as any persons with the least sense of religion in them must have done, how utterly helpless they were under such circumstances. “Oh, how I wish I had some water!” poor Percy kept saying, as he tried to get down the meat. They neither of them could eat much, and Raff came in for a larger share than he would otherwise have obtained.
The clouds had cleared away, a bright sun was shining. According to their calculation, they had hitherto succeeded in keeping the course they had intended. The country to the east, however, looked so barren and uninviting, that they agreed to travel northward, where there appeared to be a better prospect of obtaining water, without which they could not hope to get on. As the sun rose in the sky, the heat became more and more excessive. Not a breath of wind cooled the atmosphere, and they consequently suffered more than ever from thirst. As before, poor Raff crawled along at their heels, with his tongue hanging from his mouth. In vain they looked out for trees of sufficient height to afford them shade.
“It won’t do to stop here,” said Denis, whom no suffering could daunt; “the faster we move, the better chance we shall have of finding water.”
Percy agreed with him, and did his best to push on. The same rocky ground, with shrubs growing amidst it, appeared ahead. At last they saw before them a clump of mimosa bushes.
“Oh, do let us rest there for a short time,” exclaimed Percy. “I think I shall then be able to get on better. I am keeping you back, I know, but I cannot help it.”
“Don’t let that trouble you. I feel pretty tired myself,” answered Denis; and they directed their course towards the bushes.
Their meat was rather high by this time, but they had no inclination to eat, and were too tired to collect wood for a fire. Percy threw himself on the ground in the shade, where Raff had already lain down. Denis seated himself by his side. He had scarcely been there a moment, when he started up, whispering—
“I hear some animal moving on the other side of the wood. It may be a deer, and I must not lose the chance of killing it.”
He stole cautiously among the bushes, endeavouring to discover the animal he fancied he had heard. He had got a hundred and fifty yards or so from his friend, when what was his horror to see rushing towards him a huge black rhinoceros! The creature did not see him, and perhaps would not have observed Percy, had not Raff started up and begun barking furiously. This aroused Percy, who, getting on his feet, thus exposed himself to the view of the rhinoceros. He would have been more prudent had he remained perfectly quiet. The rhinoceros looked at him savagely, when Percy levelled his rifle, but instead of waiting till the animal had got near him, fired; the bullet grazing the creature’s head, excited its rage, and on it rushed, with its horn lowered, directly towards the hapless lad. In another instant that fearful weapon would have been plunged into his body. Denis trembled for the safety of his friend; for he knew, should he fire, that his bullet was more likely to wound him than the rhinoceros. Percy’s death seemed certain, when at that moment, bursting through the wood, a young Zulu warrior appeared, with rifle in hand, shouting and shrieking to attract the animal’s attention. This had the effect of making the savage brute turn its eyes towards him. He fired. The rhinoceros was still rushing on, when its knees bent, its head sank down, and its horn ploughed along the ground. In another instant it would have been up to Percy, had not the Zulu, bounding forward, seized him in his arms, and carried him a few paces from the spot where he had been lying, which the rhinoceros reaching, it fell over on its side, and lay motionless.
“Thank you, whoever you are,” said Percy. “You have saved my life; for the animal’s horn would have run me through, had you not come to my assistance.”
Though the Zulu might not have understood what Percy said, he comprehended by the tone of his voice that he was expressing his gratitude.
Denis in the meantime, dreadfully alarmed, was hurrying on, scarcely expecting to be in time to save Percy, when the Zulu made his appearance. At first he was unable to tell whether he came as a friend or a foe, until he saw him fire, and knock over the rhinoceros.
“Thank heaven, he is safe! But who can that be? What, Mangaleesu!” he exclaimed. “Thank you, my friend, thank you! You have indeed come at the right moment. We feared that you were among those slaughtered by Cetchwayo and his followers.”
This was said partly in Zulu, and partly in such English as the young chief understood. Denis had grasped his hand, and pressed it warmly to express his gratitude.
“I had a narrow escape; but I slew six of my pursuers, and got off free,” answered Mangaleesu. “I could not, however, make my way directly into Natal, as I had left my wife, when I joined Umbulazi, in a kraal, with some of her relatives in this direction. On reaching it, I hurried her away, for I knew that ere long our enemies would attack it. Scarcely had we concealed ourselves in the woods overlooking the kraal, when a party of Cetchwayo’s forces appeared, and burnt it to the ground, destroying all who remained within. We have since been journeying on, but have been compelled to proceed cautiously, for fear of being discovered; for, being known as opposed to Cetchwayo, I might have been captured, and delivered up to him.”
“And where is your wife?” asked Denis.
“She is in a cave at no great distance, where I placed her while I came out to hunt; for, as game has been scarce in the country through which we travelled, we have been sorely pressed for food; but now we have this rhinoceros meat, we will at once return to her, as she will be frightened at my long absence.”
Saying this, the chief, who had just placed Percy on the ground, commenced cutting through the tough hide of the rhinoceros, and was about to slice off some of the flesh, when, observing how ill Percy looked, he inquired what was the matter with him.
“We want water,” answered Denis; “and he will die, I fear, if it cannot soon be obtained.”
“I will at once fetch some for him then,” said Mangaleesu; and taking the two empty bottles, he started away in the direction of some rocks seen in the distance.
Percy continued murmuring, “Water, water!”
“It will come soon, and you’ll be all right, old fellow,” said Denis, sitting by his side, and supporting his head while he fanned his face.
Raff was, in the meantime, smelling round and round the rhinoceros, and would evidently have liked to get at the meat, but the tough hide resisted his efforts.
With deep thankfulness Denis observed Mangaleesu returning, this time accompanied by another person, whom he recognised, when they got nearer, as Kalinda. She seemed much concerned at seeing the condition in which poor Percy lay, and placing herself by his side, she fanned his face, while Denis poured the water down his throat. She continued tending him while he went to help Mangaleesu cut into the rhinoceros. A supply of meat was soon obtained, and Denis proposed to light a fire and cook it. To this, however, Mangaleesu objected.
“In this open spot we may be seen, for we cannot tell what enemies there may be in the neighbourhood,” he observed. “Let us at once move on to the place where I concealed Kalinda. It will hold us all, and we shall there be safer than we are here, while there is water at hand, and we can light a fire in a hollow, without risk of its being seen in the distance.”
It was very evident, however, that poor Percy, although somewhat revived, was utterly unable to walk. “Kalinda and I will carry him then,” said Mangaleesu, “while you take his gun.”
“But I cannot impose that task on you, for I ought to assist in carrying him myself,” said Denis.
“No, no, you are not strong enough; we will easily manage it.”
Mangaleesu and his wife set to work to construct a litter, which they quickly formed with some poles, and fastened together by creepers. They then placed Percy on it, and set off, stepping along at a brisk rate, showing that they considered him alight burden. Denis carried his gun; and Raff, to whom he had given some water, as well as an ample supply of meat, trotted after them perfectly revived. Reaching the rocks, they passed through a narrow defile, into which another smaller one opened, and at its farther extremity they came to some thick bushes, which Mangaleesu pulling aside, the mouth of a cavern was discovered.
“Here no one is likely to find us, and if they do we can defend ourselves against greatly superior numbers,” said Mangaleesu. “Your friend therefore can remain in safety until he has recovered and is able to proceed on his journey.”
The cavern was dry and of considerable height, so that a fire could have been lighted within; but as the smoke would have been annoying, Denis suggested that they should light it outside, as the neighbouring bushes afforded plenty of fuel. This was soon done, and the rhinoceros meat put on to cook.
Mangaleesu and his wife, not being very particular as to its being well done, were soon able to commence supper. Denis preferred waiting a little longer, when he took some in to Percy, who was by this time well able to eat it. They pronounced it rather tough, but remarkably well flavoured; indeed, the rhinoceros being an herbivorous animal, its flesh is not to be despised.
As soon as the meat was cooked, the fire was put out. “We need not keep up one during the night,” observed Mangaleesu, “for no wild beast can make its way through the bushes which I will draw in front of the cave, and should any one come near, your dog will give us ample notice.”
Among the first inquiries Denis made of Mangaleesu was whether he had seen the waggon, or could in any way calculate how far they were from it. Mangaleesu replied that he had not seen it or fallen in with any tracks to show that it had passed in that direction. On learning whence they had started, he led Denis to suspect that he and Percy had wandered much farther to the north-west than they had supposed, and that they were not likely for several days to meet with the waggon, supposing it had moved on.
“There is, however,” he observed, “a white family living on the borders, the only one for many miles round, not more than two days’ journey from this. As soon as your friend has recovered his strength, if you start at daybreak, and walk on briskly, you may reach it on the evening of the second day. Kalinda and I will accompany you, and we will then go into Natal, and bid farewell for ever to Zululand.”
On telling Percy of the account given by Mangaleesu, he exclaimed, “Why that must be Falls Farm, where my father lives. I thought we were still a long way from it. How delightful! I wish that I could get up and set off immediately. I am sure by to-morrow morning I shall be strong enough.”
Denis was as anxious as his friend to start; for Percy had often spoken to him about Falls Farm and its inmates, and he thought that it would be very pleasant to spend a day or two with them. Hendricks, if he had recovered the oxen, was very likely to be there, or would arrive shortly.
Denis and Percy were thankful to be able to rest securely without the risk of being carried off by a lion or leopard, or trampled upon by an elephant or rhinoceros. A hunter in Africa has no easy time of it, either by night or by day. He has treacherous human foes and savage wild animals to contend with.
Although night had not commenced, Denis was glad to lie down by the side of his friend, so as to obtain a longer rest than he had enjoyed for many a night. Next morning Percy declared that he felt better, after he had had another meal off rhinoceros flesh and water. Still Denis saw that he was not at all able to walk far, and certainly not fit to attempt making a long journey. He persuaded him therefore to remain quiet, at all events for another day.
“I wish that we had something better than this rhinoceros meat,” said Denis to Mangaleesu.
“You shall have it,” was the answer; “but I must be cautious in going out, lest I fall in with any of my enemies. If I am killed, I will trust you to look after my wife. Let her accompany you to the farm, where I am sure the good white chief will take care of her, as he is kind, I am told, to all the people round.”
“I promise to do as you desire; but if there is any danger, it would be better not to go out,” said Denis. “We can rough it on the rhinoceros meat.”
Mangaleesu, however, observing that there would not be enough meat to last them another day, insisted on going out to find a deer or antelope.
Having closed the mouth of the cavern, and charged his companions not to venture forth, he set out. Denis and Percy passed their time mostly in sleep, to make up, as Denis said, “for their want of rest for so many days.” Kalinda sat watching them, having nothing else to do. A considerable part of the day had passed, and they began to grow anxious at Mangaleesu’s not returning.
Kalinda waited patiently, but she now frequently got up and went close to the mouth of the cavern, where she stood in the attitude of listening. Poor creature, she had long been accustomed to that state of anxiety, but now she had begun to hope that they would soon get across the border. They had taken into the cave a supply of water, and had cooked the remainder of the rhinoceros meat. As Mangaleesu did not return, the pangs of hunger compelled them to eat a portion, although they kept some in case he should come back without having succeeded in obtaining any game.
The day was drawing on when Kalinda, who was standing at the entrance, started and said in a low voice to Denis—
“He is coming!”
Presently the bushes were drawn aside, and Mangaleesu appeared, carrying a small antelope on his back. He looked tired and excited; and throwing the animal down, he hurriedly again closed the bushes, and sank exhausted to the ground.
“We must speak low, lest any one outside may hear us,” he whispered. “I have been seen and pursued, but eluded my enemies. They may not discover this retreat, for I pretended to go off in an opposite direction. As I came along I resolved that you, my young friends, should escape as soon as you can. If found with me, you may be killed; but if you are alone, should you be overtaken, and will explain where you are going, you will not be molested.” Such, at all events, was the meaning of what Mangaleesu said. “I would advise you to set off before daylight to-morrow morning,” he continued. “Make your way to the farm. With the directions I will give you, you will easily find it. You may very likely be seen and pursued: be not alarmed; invite these who overtake you to escort you to the farm.”
“But what will you and your wife do?” asked Denis.
“We will remain here in concealment until our enemies have grown weary of searching for us. I will watch them until I see them go away, and then we will set out and get across the border as fast as possible. The country is thinly peopled, so that we shall have no difficulty in escaping notice.”
Denis expressed his regret at having to go without his friends, but agreed that the plan would be the best to adopt.
Mangaleesu, before it grew dark, showed them the spring, and the direction they were to follow, and minutely described several points, so that they would run no risk of losing their way. The antelope meat was cut up, and a portion cooked at a fire kindled in the cave, which, though it created more smoke than was pleasant, was easily borne in consideration of the advantage obtained.
Mangaleesu and Kalinda, with the two white lads, sat round the fire, eating their supper of venison, washed down with cold water, and talking over in low voices plans for that future which it was very possible none of them might live to see. Raff, who formed one of the circle, watched them with the greatest gravity, as if he fully understood all that was said. They then lay down to seek the rest the two young travellers at all events so greatly needed.
The night passed quietly; and when they awoke, Percy declared that he was sufficiently strong to undertake a two days’ march, and having breakfasted, they set off, followed by Raff, a short time before daybreak.
Mangaleesu accompanied them some distance, to put them in the right way. They felt rather anxious about his getting back in safety to the cave.
“No fear,” he answered: “a Zulu can creep unseen where a white man would certainly be observed. Even if my enemies were near, they would not discover me; but they are some way from this, and you will, I hope, be a good distance on your road before they find you, so that they will not guess whence you set out.”
They shook the chief warmly by the hand, and again thanked him for the assistance he had rendered them. Scarcely had he left them a minute, when, as they looked round, they could nowhere see him.
They trudged on as fast as they could venture to go in the gloom of morning. When daylight broke, they increased their speed. Percy kept up bravely, and Denis declared that he had never felt in better trim for a long march. As they fell in with no hostile Zulus, they more than ever regretted that Mangaleesu and Kalinda had not accompanied them. From the rate they went they felt sure that they had accomplished half the distance. Having a supply of cooked meat, they agreed that it would be wiser to spend the night in a tree. As darkness approached, they looked about and found one with wide-spreading branches; into this they climbed.
“But I say, we must not run the risk of letting Raff be carried off as poor Fangs was; we must get him with us,” said Denis. “I cannot reach him as I did before with my pocket-handkerchief, but we’ll fasten our rifle slings together, and he’ll easily make his way up.”
This was done. Raff caught hold of one end; they hauled away, and he, helping himself up with his claws, was soon seated near them on the forks of a tree.
“But what if a leopard should think of coming up here, like the one we saw the other day!” said Percy.
“Raff will give us due notice,” answered Denis. “We’ll keep our rifles ready, and send him back again with a shot through his skull.”
Their beds were not very comfortable, but notwithstanding, knowing that Raff was keeping watch, they slept soundly till the next morning. Descending the tree, they breakfasted on the remains of their venison, and pushed forward, feeling in as good trim as they had when they started on the previous day.
Chapter Fourteen.
The first threatenings of danger.
A stream descending from the Drakensberg, that lofty range of mountains which runs across the whole of the south-eastern portion of the Transvaal, separates that province from the north of Zululand. The region is thickly wooded and picturesque, though in many places wild in the extreme, while the climate, from the elevation of the land, is pure and invigorating. The stream, after issuing from the mountain-side, increased by numerous feeders, rapidly assumes considerable proportions, and rushes on towards the edge of a precipice, over which it falls in masses of foam, to the depth of fifty feet or so, when it flows on towards the south in a more tranquil current, with a width which may well claim for it the title of a fine river.
“Those must be the mountains, and that must be the river, Mangaleesu told us we should see,” said Denis, as towards the end of the second day they stood on the height overlooking the valley into which they were about to descend.
“I have no doubt about it, from the description my brother Rupert has sent me,” answered Percy; “and I think we shall soon see Falls Farm, although on the opposite side of the river. From where we stand, it is hidden by the trees. Hark! I think I hear the sound of the falls. If we were more to the south, we should see them.”
“Well, then, let’s make haste, and we shall be able to get down to the bank before dark,” said Denis; “though how we are to cross is a puzzle.”
“Perhaps we shall see somebody, and get him to send a boat across for us,” said Percy. “Come along.”
They hurried forward, eagerly looking out for the house and the falls, which would assure them that they were not mistaken in their expectations.
“Yes, there are the falls,” cried Percy. “I see the water falling like a sheet of snow to the right, though it’s farther off than I supposed, and there’s a wreath of smoke rising above a clump on the opposite side, that must come from a house. Yes, hurrah! there’s no mistake about it. I see a verandah, or porch, peeping out on the slope of the hill.”
“All right. I congratulate you, Percy, as well as myself,” said Denis; “and now we must see how we can get across.”
They soon reached the margin of the river. It was apparently not very deep; but on the possibility of crocodiles existing in it, they were not inclined to attempt swimming across. Presently, however, they saw a person running along the bank. They shouted and waved to him. He saw them, and waved in return.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if that is my brother Rupert,” cried Percy, “though I shall not know him to a certainty, even when I see him close; it is so long since we parted.”
The person they had seen was lost to sight among the trees, but soon reappeared on board a boat, in which he quickly came paddling across.
“Who are you?” he asked, “though I am sure you are Englishmen.”
“Yes, I am Percy Broderick, and this is my friend Denis Maloney.”
“And I am Rupert Broderick,” said the person in the boat, leaping out, and shaking hands warmly with his brother and then with Denis. “I am delighted to see you, and so will father and mother be, and the girls. We were beginning to grow anxious about you. How have you managed to get here all alone? and what has become of Hendricks the hunter, with whom we understood you were coming through Zululand?”
“I’ll tell you all about it as we go along,” answered Percy. “I know Denis here is very hungry, and I confess that my joy in getting home has not quite taken away my appetite.”
“Well, get into the boat, and we’ll soon be at the house; it isn’t as grand a mansion as you might have expected to find, but it’s big enough to hold us, and a few visitors besides.”
They were soon across, Percy and Denis talking all the time, giving such bits of their adventures as they knew would be interesting to their hearer. No sooner did they land, than Percy set off running, eager to meet his father and mother and sisters.
“Stop, stop!” cried Rupert; “let me say that you are coming, or the sudden surprise may be too trying to our mother’s nerves.”
But Percy had been seen from the verandah, and a middle-aged lady and three young ones came rushing down the steps, followed by a tall, strongly built gentleman, who seemed well capable of wielding an axe or a broadsword, as occasion might require.
“Percy, Percy!” cried the lady. “I know you, my dear boy! It must be you. Say I am right!”
“Yes, mother, yes,” answered Percy, and rushing forward he was soon receiving affectionate embraces from his mother and sisters. His father was not long behind them, and then Rupert brought up Denis, who was received in the kindest manner, faithful Raff coming in for a share of their attention.
Another person soon appeared upon the scene. A gaunt woman, her grey hair destitute of cap, a red shawl over her shoulders, came rushing down the steps, a basting ladle in her hand, which she threw unconsciously to the ground, while she stretched out her arms as she gazed at Percy, and throwing them round him, exclaimed—
“Sure it’s Masther Percy himself come home at last. Welcome, welcome! It does my heart good to see you, although it’s a mighty outlandish country you’ve come to.”
“It’s home, however, Biddy, for I’m sure you must be Biddy Gillooly; though so many years have passed since you carried me in your arms, I remember you perfectly,” answered Percy, returning her embrace.
“Blessings on ye, Masther Percy, for saying that,” cried Biddy; “and who is the other young gintleman?”
“A countryman of yours,” answered Percy, introducing Denis. “He’ll be glad to have a talk with you about the old country, although he’s not seen much of it himself since he was a small boy.”
Biddy was delighted to find that Denis was actually born in her native village.
“Come, Biddy, the lads want supper as soon as possible, and the pots may be boiling over during your absence,” said Captain Broderick.
Biddy took the hint, and picking up her ladle, hastened back to her kitchen. As soon as the excitement of their first arrival was over, both Percy and Denis began to feel the fatigue of their long journey. Percy could scarcely keep his eyes open while he sat at table. Mrs Broderick advised that they should both go to bed, and they accordingly retired. Denis managed to attend to himself; but Percy could scarcely have got into his bed without the assistance of his mother and brother.
The next day Percy was unable to rise, and Denis did not turn out until the evening, when he declared that he felt sufficiently rested to start again, if it was necessary, although he had no wish to leave the farm. Percy was affectionately tended by his mother and sisters, and he assured them he hoped in another day or two to be all to rights. The three Miss Brodericks were very nice girls—Denis thought them especially so—but they were very far from being fine young ladies. Assisted by Biddy, their only domestic, they attended to all the household affairs, cooked and baked, milked the cows, made butter and cheese, fed the poultry, worked in the garden, but still found time to stitch, sew, and darn, and make their mother’s and their own dresses, as well as clothes for their father and brother, while they did not neglect the culture of their minds, aided by their father, who had brought a small library with him, which had been increased from time to time as he was able to obtain books from England. They were all cheerful and happy; but a shade of melancholy occasionally passed over the countenance of Mrs Broderick, as if her thoughts were reverting to some cause of grief during the past.
Captain Broderick had now been settled at Falls Farm about twelve years. He had selected it on account of the beauty of its situation and the fertility of its soil, but had not sufficiently considered at the time its distance from a market. He had been over-persuaded by the Boer, from whom he purchased it, that settlers would speedily gather round him, and that navigation would be established on the river, by which his produce could be conveyed southward. But neither of these expectations had been fulfilled. Having a small annual income, he had struggled manfully on, had got up a good house, had planted an orchard of fruit trees, and brought numerous acres under cultivation, while his herds of cattle and flocks of sheep and goats had greatly increased. He had done his utmost also to win the confidence and affections of the natives in his neighbourhood, who looked up to him as a counsellor and a friend, on whose assistance they could always rely. When they would work, and he had employment to give them, he justly paid them the wages he promised, which were equal to any they could obtain by going farther in search of them. While they were thus friendly and ready to protect him and his family, there were others at a distance beyond his influence, who were as savage as the generality of the Kaffir tribes, and addicted to predatory excursions on the property of their neighbours. The captain was an old soldier, and when building his house, had had an eye to its defence. He therefore had enclosed the acre or so of ground in which it stood with a high palisade, on the outside of which ran a deep ditch, and this could be filled by diverting a stream from the falls above, inaccessible to an enemy.
The stream served amply to irrigate the grounds and fields beyond, and neither did it nor the palisade appear to have been formed so much with the view of serving as a fortification, as for the object of preventing the inroad of elephants or other wild animals. The height, however, of the palisade was such that even a lion or leopard would have found it difficult to leap over. Within it could be penned also a considerable number of cattle and horses and sheep. The front was, however, left open, a drawbridge only crossing the moat; but materials for filling up the gap were kept stored on either side, so that in a few hours the whole circle could be completed. The planks were of such a thickness, that neither assegais nor bullets could pierce them, and certainly no force such as was likely to attack the farm would be provided with guns. Captain Broderick felt confident that he could rely, in case of an inroad, on the assistance of the neighbouring inhabitants, who would eagerly hurry to the farm for their own protection. Here and there were a few white settlers, but the greater number were Kaffirs, who did not owe allegiance to the monarch of Zululand. Had not Captain Broderick carefully studied the habits and customs of the natives, and ingratiated himself with them, he would have been unable not only to put up his house or the palisade, but even to have cultivated the ground, and found herdsmen for his cattle. He had two faithful followers, of whom a description will hereafter be given, as also three Hottentots, who lived in huts outside the farm; and he occasionally obtained the assistance of a couple of other white men; but the rest of the labour was performed by the Kaffir natives. Indomitable perseverance and energy had enabled him to overcome numberless difficulties, and had there been a market at hand, he would by this time have become a rich man. But the expense and loss of driving his cattle even to the nearest town was very great, and the profit very small after their arrival, while the trader who occasionally came that way could afford to give but low prices for animals which might never reach their destination.
Provisions, however, were abundant; and Captain Broderick and his son Rupert seldom failed, when they went out hunting, to return without a good supply of game, as they could always depend upon the assistance of the Kaffirs and any of the white settlers whom they invited to join them.
A couple of days had passed since the arrival of Percy and Denis, and they began to grow anxious at hearing nothing of Hendricks. It was difficult to account for his delay, unless he had lost so many of his oxen as to be unable to proceed with his waggon. This, however, was not likely. The natives were not hostile, as they were always glad to have traders come among them to purchase their produce, and from whom they could obtain the articles they required. The tsetse fly, although destructive in some parts to cattle, was not supposed to exist in the district through which he was passing, and although one or two of the animals might have been killed by lions, that would not have hindered him for any length of time, as he might easily have supplied their places, or travelled on with a smaller team. At last, Captain Broderick resolved to send out a couple of trusty men in the direction it was supposed Hendricks would come.
One of these, Conrad Vermack by name, whose chief characteristic was his intense hatred of the Zulus, had at one time possessed a farm of his own, but it had been destroyed by the savages while he was absent on a hunting expedition. He had returned to find his house burned to the ground, and his wife, five children, and two servants massacred. He had attempted to avenge their death, and had narrowly escaped with his own life. With three assegai wounds in his body, utterly ruined in purse, and his health broken, he had received shelter and kind treatment from Captain Broderick, who pitied his misfortunes. He had in time recovered his health, but had no desire or energy to attempt again setting up for himself, though offered some stock with which to commence. He declined the offer, saying that he would infinitely prefer devoting the remainder of his life to the service of one from whom he had received so many benefits; and he had thus remained on year after year, without changing his resolution, apparently contented, if not happy. In appearance he was unlike most of his countrymen. His figure was tall and bulky, his face long and rugged. A smile never illumined his countenance. A mass of long coal-black hair fell straight over his forehead and down his back, giving him a strong resemblance, except in colour, to a North American Indian. On all occasions he wore a short shooting jacket, his arms sticking considerably beyond the sleeves, while it was darned and patched in all directions, as were his trowsers, which had once been of blue cloth, but had been mended with pieces of so many colours that it was difficult to say what had been their original hue. Though Captain Broderick had given him a good suit which he wore on Sundays, and had offered him another instead of the one which has been described, he could never be induced to leave it off. He had worn a portion of it at his marriage, and he hoped to live and die in it, he said. He was a first-rate hunter, and was more frequently out with his gun than labouring on the farm, which was evidently not much to his taste, though when his services were absolutely required he worked as hard as any one, and amply repaid his host for the support he received.
The other man was a Kaffir, called Matyana. He belonged to a tribe almost exterminated by Dingan, the predecessor of Panda, and consequently hated the Zulus as much as did the Dutchman. Having made his escape from his enemies, though desperately wounded, he had been found by Captain Broderick in an apparently dying condition; but being carried to the farm, and carefully tended, he recovered. Although his people are generally supposed to be destitute of gratitude, he showed that he possessed that virtue by willingly remaining on with his protector, and rendering him all the service in his power.
Both these men, being well acquainted with the country, and thoroughly trustworthy, were selected by the Captain for the proposed expedition. They willingly undertook the duty, and set out well-armed and well mounted, promising to discover Hendricks and his party if they were still in the land of the living.
Denis begged to go with them, but Mrs Broderick interfered, declaring that he was utterly unable to undertake the journey; he indeed confessed to Percy that he scarcely felt up to a gallop, while he certainly was in no hurry to quit Falls Farm.
Percy agreed with him, and thought indeed that he showed his good taste in enjoying the society of his mother and sisters.
The young ladies found time, after the day was over, to play and sing and talk, although they had nothing to say about their neighbours, and especially to listen to the accounts Denis and Percy gave them of their adventures.
By the bye, the three fair daughters of Captain and Mrs Broderick, Helen, Rose, and Maud, ought before this to have been formally introduced to the reader. The eldest was about two-and-twenty, Rose was just eighteen, and Maud was a year younger than Percy. Miss Broderick recollected a great deal about England, and it is just possible might have preferred living there to existing in the wilds of Africa, at the same time that she was contented with her lot, which many young ladies would have thought a hard one.
As Percy was unable to walk any distance, on the evening of the day the men had been sent off to look for Hendricks, Rupert proposed to Denis to take him a row, and Maud, hearing of it, begged that she might go also. The boat was the same in which Percy and Denis first crossed the river. It was kept on the bank of the river, concealed in a thicket from the view of passers-by, a short way from the house. They had just reached the place where the boat was kept, and Rupert and Denis were busy preparing her, when Maud exclaimed, “There are two people on the opposite bank. They are natives, and are waving to us.”
Percy looking up cried out, “Yes, so there are, and they appear to me like Mangaleesu and Kalinda.”
The two natives continued to wave still more vehemently, occasionally looking behind them, as if they expected to see some one coming from that direction. They then both stepped into the water, about apparently to swim across.
Rupert and Denis on this made signs to them to wait.
“You remain here, Maud, with Percy,” said Rupert, as he shoved off the boat with his oar from the bank.
He and Denis rowed with all their might, for they saw that the natives were evidently in a great hurry.
“Yes, there is no doubt that the man is the Zulu chief who saved Percy’s life, and who helped us on our way, and that the other is his wife,” exclaimed Denis. “I would not have them on any account fall into the hands of their enemies, who would kill them to a certainty. Pull away! pull away!”
They quickly reached the opposite bank, when both Mangaleesu and his wife hurriedly stepping into the boat, sank down thoroughly exhausted.
“What has happened, my friend?” asked Denis.
“We are pursued by our enemies, and they will soon be here;” answered Mangaleesu. “Can the white chief give us shelter? or must we continue our flight? For myself I would not mind, but my wife is well-nigh exhausted, and I fear she would be overtaken.”
“You do not, either of you, look as if you were capable of continuing on much longer,” said Denis, as he and Rupert began to row back as fast as they could. “I am very sure that the white chief will protect you, especially when he hears that you saved his son’s life, and helped us both so greatly. I may say that, may I not, Rupert? I am sure that your father will protect them.”
“No doubt about that,” answered Rupert. “Pull away then; and if we can get them concealed in the house before their pursuers see where they have gone, it will save a great deal of trouble.”
There was not much time to settle any further plans before they reached the western bank. Immediately landing, they drew up the boat on shore, at a spot where she was completely concealed by the bushes.
Scarcely had they landed when a large body of Zulus were seen on the height of the opposite side of the river, waving their assegais, and rushing down as if they fully expected in a few minutes to come up with the fugitives.
“Come along, Mangaleesu. We must get into the house before those people out there see you,” cried Rupert, taking the chief’s hand.
Unfortunately they had an open space to cross. As they did so they were perceived by the Zulus, who broke into loud and savage shouts, which even at the distance they were off could clearly be heard.
“Don’t be afraid, Kalinda. They shan’t hurt you,” said Percy; “I am sure my father will not let them take you away.”
As they hurried on they saw the Zulus making signs to them to bring back the boat. It was evident that the savages had perceived how the fugitives had escaped them.
“You may beckon and shriek and howl as much as you like,” cried Rupert. “We are not going to allow you to murder these people if we can help it.”
Without paying further attention to the Zulus, they hurried on to the house, where they found Captain Broderick.
Percy at once introduced Kalinda and Mangaleesu to his father, telling him how much he and Denis were indebted to them.
“We come to crave your protection, O White Chief,” said Mangaleesu. “Our enemies are seeking our death, and if we are turned away I fear that we shall be overtaken.”
“I promise to afford it you, my friends,” said Captain Broderick. “They dare not drag you from my house by force, and I will not allow them to enter.”
“There is no time to be lost then, for they are very close to the bank,” said Rupert. “I will go and see what they are about.”
Captain Broderick led the chief and his wife into the house, while Rupert hastened to where he could watch the Zulus. They were doing as he feared they would; nearly half the band were already in the stream, stemming the current, shouting and shrieking, to keep away the crocodiles, while the other half were preparing to follow. The current was carrying them down, but not very rapidly, so that they would land at a point not far below that on the opposite bank from which they had started.
He at once returned to report what he had seen. Captain Broderick had by this time come back to the front of the house. There were fortunately two white men, as well as the Hottentots, and several faithful Kaffirs within call. He ordered Rupert at once to bring out the arms and put them into the hands of the Kaffirs, whom he knew he could trust. The white men had brought their rifles, and by the time the Zulus had landed, he had a dozen men, besides himself and Denis and his two sons, ready to defend those to whom he had promised protection, should their enemies attempt to take them. Having drawn them up on the inside of the moat in front of the house, he waited to see how the Zulus would proceed. As soon as they had landed and shaken themselves dry, they looked about as if expecting to see the fugitives; then guessing that they had taken shelter in the farm, they advanced towards it, until they came in sight of the force prepared to receive them. Their leader, a chief of some consideration, judging by the cow-tails hanging round his neck, and the feathers in his head-dress, advanced and began an address to Captain Broderick.
“The Zulus and the white men are brothers,” he said. “The enemies of the one are the enemies of the other. How comes it then that I see the white chief in arms against us? We have long been seeking one who is a traitor to his country, and who has defied our king Panda, the lion of the world, and I desire to know whether he is still flying across the country, or has been received into the house of our friend. If he has, we demand that he may be delivered up to us forthwith, to be treated as he deserves.”
Captain Broderick listened patiently until the chief had come to an end.
“I wish to be friends with the Zulus, as well as with all the people among whom I live,” said the captain. “I have no desire to protect any one because he is an enemy to the Zulus, but I cannot allow any injury to be inflicted on persons who have rendered essential service to those dear to me. There is no one in this house I can consent to deliver up to you, and therefore if you expect it you must go away disappointed. I have said it, it is useless to ask more.”
The chief, on hearing this, looked very angry, and muttered something which Captain Broderick could not understand. The Zulus appeared doubtful how to proceed; at length Captain Broderick spoke to them.
“To show you that I wish to be friends, if you are hungry, I will feed you,” he said. “You shall have a heifer, which I was going to kill to-night, but you must retire with it across the river, where you can feast as you desire.”
This promise had evidently a good effect on the Zulus. They saw, indeed, that they were not likely to gain anything by force from a white man, who was well prepared to repel it, and was not to be intimidated.
They accordingly shouted out, “Give us the heifer. We will go.”
On this Captain Broderick ordered one of the Hottentots to bring out the animal from a shed at a short distance off. The Hottentot obeyed the order with evident unwillingness; indeed, the poor animal seemed to know, by the way it walked, the fate prepared for it. As it approached, the Zulus rushed forward to seize it, for they considered it rather gained by their own prowess than as a gift.
“We take the heifer because we want food; but understand, we do not abandon the right of search for the fugitives who have rebelled and deserve death,” said the chief, turning to Captain Broderick.
Having thus delivered himself, he stalked off with his followers to the bank of the river, when, plunging in, they waded and swam across the stream, driving the heifer before them.
Rupert hurried down to watch them. They went on for some distance to a sheltered spot under the hill, where shortly a fire was seen blazing up, evidently for the purpose of cooking the heifer. As it continued burning brightly for some time after darkness had set in, there was no doubt that the Zulus were enjoying themselves, and intended to remain there till the morning. Captain Broderick was too well accustomed to Kaffir warfare to trust to them, and thinking it possible that they might attempt to surprise the farm during the night, he kept a vigilant watch, and ordered his little force to remain under arms until it was ascertained to a certainty that they had taken their departure from the neighbourhood.