Nick started back at the unexpected reply. “Who’d have thought that?” he exclaimed. “I should just as soon have expected to have heard Lion talk English.”
“Well, it wasn’t very good English,” remarked Warley, “but it was as much to the purpose as if he had been Lindley Murray himself. I suppose the first thing is to comply with his request. I have got a biscuit in my pocket, which I brought away from the boat I dare say he can eat that.”
“Not a doubt of it,” said Nick; “and I guess he’ll soon dispose of this slice of steinbok too. The worst of it is, that I had meant it for my own supper. But one can’t let the poor wretch starve.”
“We’ll all contribute something,” said the doctor, “and make him out a sufficient supper, I have no doubt. He mustn’t eat very much at a time. But the first thing is to carry him to some sheltered place, where we can make him up a comfortable bed. He must have a long rest before he will be good for anything.”
“Carry him, hey!” cried Nick doubtfully, as he contemplated the prostrate figure of the Hottentot; who, for one of his race, was unusually tall and large of frame. “How are we to do that, I wonder? He weighs twelve stone, I’ll go bail for it, if he weighs an ounce, and we don’t happen to have a horse and cart convenient.”
“We can manage it easily enough,” was the answer; “our guns and these thongs will make a very tolerable stretcher. Draw the charges first, though. It wouldn’t be safe to carry the guns loaded.”
Ernest complied, and then the doctor set about the construction of his litter. He first fastened a rifle and a gun together, reversing the direction of the barrels, so as to form a kind of staff out of them, about six feet long, with the stocks at the two ends. The other rifle and gun were then secured after the same manner, and thus the poles of the stretcher were formed. They were then tied together, about two feet apart from one another, by half a dozen thongs. The machine was now placed on the ground, and the Hottentot laid on the thongs. Then the stocks at one end were raised, and laid on the doctor’s shoulders, who bent on one knee and stooped as near to the ground as he could. The other two ends were next placed in like fashion on the shoulders of Ernest who had put himself into the like attitude. Frank and Nick now took their stations in the middle of the litter, each placing one shoulder under the pole. Then Lavie gave the word and they all rose together.
“Capitally managed!” exclaimed the doctor approvingly. “Now step all together, and we’ll have him under the shelter of the trees in less than a quarter of an hour.”
They moved off, walking quickly and steadily, and in less than the time named by Lavie, approached the friendly cover of the thicket. As they came near, a steinbok which had been feeding apparently under a tree, bounded out of the covert, passing within twenty yards of them.
“Alas! alas!” exclaimed Nick, “there goes our supper that should have been! That is the worst of doing a good action! One is sure to be punished for it!”
“Well, Nick, I don’t know about that,” said Warley. “If we hadn’t gone to look after the Hottentot, I don’t think we should have seen anything of the steinbok. He wouldn’t have come anywhere near us, I expect.”
“No, you may be sure of that,” observed the doctor, as they lowered their burden to the ground, and laid him on some soft grass under the shade of a large mimosa. “And what is more, I doubt whether our good action will not be rewarded in this instance. Look here, the steinbok was feeding on this melon, when we startled him. See the marks of his teeth, and here are the stalks of one or two others which he has eaten. I noticed these melons as I went by, but I was afraid to meddle with them, as I had never seen any exactly like them, and some melons in this country are more or less poisonous. But the steinbok wouldn’t have eaten them if they hadn’t been wholesome food, and so we may venture on them too. I have no doubt we shall find them very refreshing.”
Frank and Nick accordingly began pulling them up, while the surgeon applied himself to the restoration of his patient, who was still lying in a half-conscious state. But the cool air and soft bed, together with the restoratives, which from time to time were applied, presently brought him round, and he was able to eat as much food as was judged good for him. After partaking of this and another draught of cold water, he fell into a sound sleep, which seemed likely to last for several hours.
“It is still early in the afternoon,” remarked the doctor, as they sat down to their dinner of steinbok and melons, the latter of which proved most delicious; “it is still quite early, and I don’t suppose we can have gone more than a dozen miles since breakfast. Nevertheless, I think we must remain here. This poor fellow isn’t well enough to be left yet, though he may be to-morrow morning.”
“No, we can’t leave the poor wretch,” said Warley, “particularly after what he told us about the Bushmen. They may be lurking about somewhere in the neighbourhood, and may pounce upon him again, and he wouldn’t be able to escape them in his present weak state.”
“Eh, what!” exclaimed Gilbert, jumping up in great alarm at this suggestion. “The Bushmen lurking about! The bloodthirsty savages! They’ll be seizing us and burying us up to the chin perhaps, and then making a cockshy of our heads! Are the guns loaded again, Frank?”
“Long ago, Nick,” was the answer. “Ernest loaded them, while you and I were gathering melons. I saw him doing it, and I don’t think the Bushmen are very likely to trouble us. They have a most wholesome terror of European weapons, and more particularly of firearms, if all that I have heard is true. I think we had better try if we can’t kill one or two of these grey parrots, as you yourself, if I don’t mistake, were suggesting, just before the snake showed itself.”
“I have no objection, Frank,” returned Nick, somewhat reassured. “To be sure these Bushmen can’t very well be as bad as the snakes; and if one makes up one’s mind not to trouble one’s self about the one, one need not trouble one’s self about the other.”
“All right, Nick,” said Wilmore. “Now then, about these parrots. They’re very shy chaps, and will keep out of shot, if they can; and we mustn’t throw away powder by firing, unless with a pretty safe prospect of bringing one down. I think I’ll creep round, and hide behind that big trunk yonder. Then you shy a stone up into the tree in which they are sitting, and they’ll most probably fly out into the open, and give me a good shot.”
Wilmore and Gilbert conducted their joint manoeuvres with so much skill, that before supper-time, half a dozen good-sized parrots had been bagged, and their flesh when boiled was pronounced by all to be excellent. After supper the doctor informed the party that Omatoko, as he called himself, had now quite recovered his senses, and had held a long conversation with him; the particulars of which he was ready to communicate, if they wished to hear it. “Hear it? to be sure we do,” said Nick. “I’ve been longing to learn all about it, and if I had had any idea that he would have been able to talk, I shouldn’t have gone out parrot shooting.”
“You wouldn’t have understood what he said,” observed Lavie. “He told his story in Dutch. His knowledge of English was very small when he came to try it. He says he belonged to a tribe that formerly lived a good way to the south of this—not far from the mouth of the Gariep, I fancy, from his description. There were a good many farms belonging to Dutch owners in the neighbourhood; but Omatoko’s was a powerful tribe, and they seem for a good many years to have lived unmolested by their European neighbours. But about fourteen or fifteen years ago, some Englishmen—traders probably sent by some commercial house—landed near their village, and offered them more liberal terms for their skins and ivory than the Dutch had allowed. Finding the trade profitable, the English returned in the following year, and by-and-by ran up a few huts, where they carried on what promised to be a very lucrative business. It was from them that Omatoko picked up the few words of English which he knows, and he appears to have contracted a great liking for them.”
“Of course he did,” said Frank, “old England against the world!”
“With all my heart, Frank,” rejoined the doctor, “only the English are not always remarkable for making themselves popular. Well, the trade went on increasing, until it roused the jealousy of the Dutch. They didn’t fancy not being able to buy hides and tusks at the old prices, and besides, were jealous of the English attempting to settle in the country.”
“Ay, to be sure,” said Warley, “the time you speak of must have been a year or two before the conquest of the colony by our troops.”
“Just so, Ernest, and for some years previously to that there had been a feeling of uneasiness in the colony, that the English were meditating some attempt upon them. That is one of the things that induces me to believe the Hottentot’s story. Well, the Dutch in the fourth year after the appearance of the strangers, got together what they call a commando in these parts—”
“I know what that is,” interposed Wilmore. “I heard my uncle talking about it with some of the passengers. They get all the Dutchmen in the neighbourhood together, as well as some troops from the government, and make a raid on some unlucky Hottentot village—kill all the men, make slaves of the women and children, seize the cattle and goods of the natives, and burn the houses.”
“That’s what you call a clean sweep,” observed Nick.
“Yes, no doubt. But it’s shockingly cruel and wicked,” exclaimed Warley. “I should think you must be overstating the matter, Frank.”
“I am afraid he is not,” said Lavie. “That is very much what they were wont to do at commandos, as I had good grounds for knowing while I was living at Cape Town. They had a great deal of provocation, no doubt. The boors’ cattle was continually being stolen, and could very seldom be recovered. And it was next to impossible to prove the theft against any tribe in particular—”
“But that would not justify them in burning and shooting right and left, without any inquiry,” rejoined Warley. “I could not have believed that any Christian people—”
“Well, Ernest, I am inclined to go a long way with you on this subject, though I differ somewhat,” said the doctor, “but we have no time to discuss it now. Well, the Dutch commando attacked Omatoko’s village by night and burnt it, as Frank says, to the ground. Probably all the other results of which he spoke would have ensued, if the English had not heard the firing, and come up to the rescue.”
“I hope they peppered the Dutchmen properly,” cried Nick.
“Well, they seem to have made a good fight of it; but the Dutchmen were ten to one, and the Hottentots very little good. The upshot was that a large part of the tribe escaped, and the rest, together with the survivors of the English, surrendered themselves at discretion. Omatoko was one of those made prisoners, and he was for eight years in the service of a boor. He was pretty well treated; for the colony was all that time in the hands of the English, and they wouldn’t allow any cruelties to be exercised against the slaves. But two years ago the Cape was given back to the Dutch, and they began the old system again as soon as they were in possession. Omatoko and one or two others made their escape some twelve months ago; and he went back to his tribe, who are living, he says, at no great distance from this. The Dutch, he declares, have been trying to seize or kill him ever since—”
“Whew!” exclaimed Nick. “What, did those Dutch beggars bury him in the well after that fashion, then? Well, I always thought the Dutch to be brutes, but I never could have believed—”
“Stop that, Nick,” interposed Frank. “Have you forgotten that the Hottentot himself told us that it was the Bushmen who buried him?”
“Oh, ay, to be sure, I had forgotten that,” said Gilbert. “Go on, doctor. Did the Dutch send a commando after him?”
“Omatoko says that the Dutch had given up their system of commandos for several years, and could not easily organise them again, but they employed the Bushmen to seize any of the fugitives, and paid a large price for every one brought in.”
“But if that is true, what made the Bushmen bury Omatoko in that way, instead of carrying him to the Dutch to claim the reward?” asked Warley. “I must say, Charles, that sounds very suspicious.”
“So it did to me, Ernest,” said Charles; “but the Hottentot answered me, readily enough, that the Dutch would have paid the same sum for a runaway’s head, as they would if he had been brought to them alive. He declared that the Bushmen hated him, for having repeatedly escaped them, and for having several times requited their outrages in kind. He said they meant to have left him in the well, to die of cold and hunger; after which they would have cut off his head and carried it to the nearest Dutch village.”
“Well, that might be true, I suppose,” said Wilmore.
“Yes, I think so. The story hung well together. I could detect no flaw in it.”
“Did you ask him whether he would act as our guide to Cape Town?” inquired Ernest.
“Yes, and he said he would; but we could not go the way I had proposed, along the course of the Great Fish or Koanquip rivers. He knew them both perfectly, so he affirmed; but neither route would be safe. We must go still further eastward—into the Kalahari in fact—he told me.”
“What is the Kalahari?” asked Frank.
“A vast sea of sand,” said Lavie, “extending for more than four hundred miles, from the borders of Namaqua-land to the country of the Bechuanas. There is not, so far as I know, a single river, lake, or even fountain, to be found in the whole region.”
“What on earth are we to go there for?” cried Gilbert. “We should soon die of hunger or thirst, or heat!”
“Well no, not that,” said the surgeon. “A great part of the sand is covered with dense scrub, which affords something like shade, and though there is neither river nor pool, yet if you dig down a few feet you will generally find a supply of water. Life may be sustained there; indeed, tribes of Bushmen and Bechuanas are to be found in most parts of it. But I should think it was the most miserable dwelling-place to be found on the face of the earth.”
“Well, then, why are we to go there?” repeated Nick, irritably.
“Omatoko says it will not be safe, for the present at all events, to journey southward. It seems that the Dutch are expecting a new attempt of our countrymen to seize the colony, and their fear and anger are so greatly roused, that they would certainly imprison, and probably kill, any Englishman who at the present juncture fell into their hands. I really think he is likely to be right in what he says. When I left England two months ago, there was a good deal of talk about taking possession of the Cape Colony again.”
“But granting that we must not venture south, why need we bury ourselves in a sandy desert?” persisted Gilbert. “Omatoko proposes to take us some distance into Kalahari, because his tribe is at present living there. When they were driven by the Dutch from their own homes, they retired some few miles into the desert and built a new village, where they have been living ever since. He promises us a friendly welcome from his tribe, and advises us to remain with them until we can learn what is the precise state of things between the English and Dutch. If no attack is made by our government, the hostile feeling will gradually subside, and we may safely pursue our way as at first proposed. If an attack is made, and the colony again taken possession of by the British arms, we can travel to Cape Town, though it would be wise to follow a different route. That is the substance of what Omatoko advises.”
“And you are inclined to trust him, Charles?” said Warley, interrogatively.
“I am in two minds about it,” replied Charles. “Part of what he says I know to be true, and everything is consistent with truth. Still his anxiety to get back to his own tribe is suspicious. He has let fall, unconsciously, some hints of his burning desire to be avenged forthwith on the enemies who had so nearly put him to a cruel death; and if he were to conduct us to Cape Town, he would have to put off the gratification of his revenge for many months at the least; and perhaps before his return, the tribe he longs to punish will have moved hundreds of miles away.”
“And what do you advise that we should do?”
“I am inclined to follow his suggestions. If his tale is true, we should be running into the face of the most imminent peril by following the route I had marked out. And even if it is false, we shall probably not be delayed very long at the Hottentot village. His measures will be taken, I doubt not, promptly enough, and then he will be at liberty to attend to our affairs.”
“You think, in fact, that he really means friendly by us, though he may care more for his revenge than our convenience.”
“Just so, Ernest. His gratitude is, I believe, quite sincere.”
“Then I agree with you that we had better do as you advise. What do you two say?”
“I am of your opinion,” said Wilmore.
“And I don’t see what else is to be done,” added Gilbert.
“That’s agreed, then,” said Lavie. “And now, there is another thing. He says it won’t be safe for us to sleep under these trees, even though we light a fire, and keep it up all night. It seems that the neighbourhood abounds with beast of prey. Indeed, if Omatoko is to be believed there would be a considerable risk of our being devoured by a lion or tiger—”
“Tiger!” repeated Warley. “There are no tigers in this country surely.”
“Not the animal strictly called the tiger,” returned the surgeon; “that is not found in South Africa at all, or indeed anywhere, I believe, except in Bengal. The beast they name the tiger here, is the leopard; but he is quite fierce and savage enough. I should observe that the leopard is not the only animal miscalled in this country. They talk of the wild horse, the camel, and the wolf, as abounding here. But none of these are to be found. What they mean are properly the zebra, the giraffe, and the hyena. But to go on, Omatoko says we must either keep watch, all of us, with our guns all night—”
“I say, bother that,” broke in Nick; “a fellow can’t do without sleep.”
“Or else,” resumed Charles; “we must climb into trees and sleep there.”
“Well, we can do that,” said Frank; “that is, we four can. But how about this Hottentot? He is in no case to climb a tree, I judge, much less to stick in one all night.”
“And how about Lion?” added Gilbert. “He is a worse climber still, I expect.”
“Omatoko advised us to cut down a lot of young pines that are growing in a thicket close by, and lay them across two of the lower branches of the largest tree we can find. There are several acacias of immense size about here. A sort of floor will thus be formed, where we can all sleep safely. The branches would probably be not more than six feet from the ground, so that both the Hottentot and Lion might easily be handed up.”
“But these leopards can climb, can’t they?” suggested Frank. “We should be safe from lions or rhinoceroses no doubt, but not from leopards, or bears either, if there are any about here.”
“I don’t think any bears are to be found hereabouts. No doubt panthers and leopards can climb trees, but remember, they could only get at us by walking along the bough on the end of which our platform rests, or by dropping down from a higher limb. Lion would be sure to rouse us before they could accomplish either feat, and they would be easy victims to our rifles.”
“That’s true,” said Wilmore. “Well, then, do you three fall to work on the job, while I roast some parrots for to-morrow’s breakfast.”
They began the task accordingly. The doctor took his axe; and in half an hour had cut down a great number of stout firs about twenty feet long, and thicker round than his arm. These were brought up by Warley and laid across two of the lower branches of one of the giants of the forest, forming a tolerably flat stage some nine feet square. No fastening was required for the firs, their own weight and the shape of the branches, which bent slightly upwards at the ends, rendering them quite secure. Next, armfuls of dry grass and moss were handed up to form beds for the party; and then came the more difficult task of hoisting Omatoko to his place. This engaged the united strength of the doctor, Warley, and Wilmore below, while Nick, standing on the platform, received him from their hands. But the strength of the Hottentot was in some measure restored, and he was able to render some help himself, which greatly facilitated the job. As soon as Omatoko had been consigned to his bed, Lion was in like manner passed up; but he was by no means so conformable as his predecessor had been, and if anybody but Frank had had charge of his head and shoulders, they might have found their undertaking an unpleasant one.
However, in process of time he was got up, and secured by a thong to one of the poles in the centre of the platform. The guns came next, and lastly their owners. It was quite dark before their arrangements were completed, and before ten minutes had elapsed, the whole of the party were fast asleep.
The sun was high in the heavens before any of the party were roused from their slumbers. Then the doctor was the first to wake up, and his thoughts were at once turned to his patient. He was pleased to find him in a most satisfactory condition. His skin was cool, and his pulse, though still low, was steadily recovering its tone. As for Frank and Ernest—they had no sooner opened their eyes, than they hurried off to the pool, which lay two or three hundred yards off, to enjoy a refreshing bath. They were followed shortly afterwards by Lavie and Omatoko, the latter having contrived to descend from his bedchamber by the help of the doctor’s arm, and to walk, though very slowly, as far as the waterside.
Having completed their ablutions, the lads set about preparing the breakfast; which, it was agreed, was to be eaten under the shade of the acacias.
“I think Omatoko must be mistaken about the wild animals,” observed Frank. “I slept as sound as a top, and so did Lion; and if there had been any of his namesakes about, or tigers either, he would have been pretty sure to give us notice.”
“You forget how tired we were, Frank; Lion as well as ourselves,” said the doctor. “Unless they made a very great uproar we should probably not hear them.”
“What does Omatoko say?” suggested Warley. “Does he think there were wild beasts about?”
The Hottentot nodded. “One, two lion,” he said, pointing to some footprints in the short grass round the pool. “One, two lion; many tigers; one rhinoceros.”
“Is that the spoor of a lion?” asked Warley with much interest, as he stooped down and examined the footprints. “How can you tell it from that of a large tiger?”
“You may always know the spoor of a lion by the marks of the toe-nails,” said Lavie; “they turn in, whereas those of other feline animals project. Yes, that is a lion’s spoor, sure enough, and those broad deep prints are as plainly those of a rhinoceros, and a pretty large one too. And there are plenty of others besides, which I am not sure of. Omatoko was certainly right. It was quite as well that we did not bivouac by this pool.”
Breakfast was now announced, and the party gathered round the eatables, when it was for the first time noticed that Nick was not present.
“I suppose he is still asleep,” said the surgeon. “I called to him to come and help me to get Omatoko down, but I got nothing but an intelligible growl at first, and then a sleepy assurance that he would be sure to be in time for breakfast.”
“No, he is not the fellow to miss that,” remarked Frank. “He must be very sleepy indeed, before he’ll go without his victuals. Depend upon it he will be here in a minute or two.”
Half an hour however passed away, and the meal was quite completed, and still no Nick made his appearance.
“Go, and look after him, Frank,” said the doctor, “while I consult with Omatoko as to what ought to be done next. We can’t afford to lose time, if it should be thought better for us to move.”
Wilmore took up his gun accordingly, and walked off towards the tree where they had slept. The dense foliage almost entirely concealed the staging from sight: but as he drew nearer he was sensible of loud chattering and gibbering sounds, intermixed occasionally with shrill screams, which seemed to come from a great number of throats. Wondering what this could mean, he made his approach as noiselessly as possible, and climbing up to the top of one of the roots, which projected a foot or two upwards, he peered cautiously over the edge of the platform. A most extraordinary sight greeted him, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he restrained himself from bursting into a loud laugh.
Nick was seated in the middle of the stage, bareheaded and without shoes, and was gazing upward with a look of mingled alarm and annoyance, which seemed to the spectator of the scene irresistibly ludicrous. On the boughs immediately over his head, as far up as Frank could descry, a great number of baboons were to be seen, leaping from one resting-place to another, with hideous grimaces, and keeping up incessant and most discordant screams. The grotesqueness of their appearance was much increased by their having taken possession of such of Nick’s property as they had been able to lay their paws on. One wore the blue cloth cap, with the leather peak and white edging, which was a souvenir of Dr Staines’s establishment. Two more had possessed themselves, each of one of his shoes, which he had laid aside when he went to sleep; and were turning them over with an air of grave curiosity, as if to discover what their use might be. Another party had seized the knapsack, which had been pulled from under Nick’s head before he was fully awake. The contents had been divided between several old baboons, who had turned the various articles to all sort of strange uses. One was scratching his ear with Gilbert’s pipe; another had thrust its head into a stocking, and appeared to have some difficulty in getting it out again; a third was enveloped from head to foot in a cotton shirt, his head showing itself just above the collar; while a fourth was examining the contents of the flask, which it had contrived partially to open, and was making hideous faces over the taste of the gunpowder, of which it had swallowed a good spoonful. Nick had fortunately awoke in time to prevent the baboons from seizing his knife or gun. He now held the latter with a strong grip in both hands, and seemed disposed to discharge its contents at one of his assailants, if he could only make up his mind which to single out for attack.
“Don’t fire, Nick,” exclaimed Wilmore, as he noticed Gilbert’s demeanour. “You’d enrage them greatly, if you were to wound or kill any of them. They have been known to tear a fellow to pieces, who shot one of their number. They’re terribly fierce and strong, if they are provoked.”
“What am I to do, then?” returned Gilbert. “They’ve not only carried off my knapsack and pipe, but my hat and shoes too; and I can’t venture to walk a step in these parts without them.”
“The best way will be to scare them away,” suggested Wilmore, “if we could think of any way of doing it.”
“I’ll tell you,” cried Nick, catching a sudden inspiration. “Do you climb up into the tree on the other side. The leaves are so thick that these brutes won’t see you, and the branches are easy enough to climb. When you’re well up over their heads, let fly with your gun. I’ll do the same the moment afterwards, and between the two reports they’ll be so scared, I expect, that they’ll cut for it straightway.”
“Very well,” said Frank, laughing, “I’ve no objection. We can but try, any way.” He carefully uncocked his gun, and began mounting the branches as quietly as possible, while Nick distracted the attention of the monkeys, by shaking his fist at them, and pelting them with fragments of bark. Presently there came the double explosion, which fully answered his expectations. Uttering a Babel of discordant screams, they dropped their recently acquired treasures, and made off at the top of their speed, bounding from tree to tree till they were lost in the distance. Nick set himself to collect the various articles thus restored, and had nearly repossessed himself of all of them, when Frank descended from his elevation and joined him on the platform.
“You get into scrapes, Nick, more than most,” he said, “but you’ve a wonderful knack of getting out of them again, that’s certain. Well, come along, if you’ve got everything. The doctor is anxious to start, if this Hottentot chap will let us, and you’ve still your breakfast to get.”
“The Hottentot let us start this morning!” repeated Gilbert. “Not if he’s to go with us himself, to be sure! To look at him last night, he wouldn’t be fit to walk again this side of Christmas. Perhaps he expects us to carry him, as we did yesterday—do you really think that, Frank?” continued Gilbert, stopping short, and eyeing his companion with an expression of much dismay.
“No, I don’t,” returned Wilmore, again bursting into a laugh; “and if he did expect it, he’d find his expectations deceive him considerably. That’s what I expect, at all events.”
“Well, here we are,” said Nick, a minute or two afterwards, as they reached the post. “Well, doctor, I’m sorry to be late, but Frank will tell you that I have been in the hands of the swell mob, and have only just contrived to escape them.”
The doctor looked puzzled, but he had no time for explanations. “Eat your breakfast, Gilbert,” he said, “while we settle what is to be done to-day. I suppose we are all agreed that it won’t do for us to stop here longer than we can help. Now Omatoko is not able to travel very far, but he could walk a few miles if he went very slowly and had a rest every now and then. He thinks so himself, and wishes to start at once.”
“We could give him an arm by turns, if that was all; but the question is, Charles, could we reach any good halting-place?” suggested Warley.
“That’s just it, Ernest,” returned Charles. “Omatoko says that about four or five miles from this there is a place where we could stay two or three days, if necessary, and find plenty of food and water. It is a ruined kraal— destroyed by the Dutch, he says, many years ago, but some of the cottages are still in sufficient repair to shelter us.”
“Why shouldn’t we stay here?” asked Nick, with his mouth full of parrot. “This is a jolly place enough—fresh water, lots of melons and parrots, and they’re both of them capital eating. And a comfortable sleeping-place. If we must make a halt anywhere, why not here? It’s a capital place, I think, except for the baboons,” he muttered in a lower tone, as the recollection of his recent adventure suddenly occurred to him.
“Why shouldn’t we stay here?” repeated Lavie. “Well, I’ll tell you, Gilbert. It isn’t so much the wild beasts—though a place which every night is full of lions, rhinoceroses, and leopards doesn’t exactly suit anybody but a professed hunter—but there is the fear of the Bushmen returning to cut off Omatoko’s head, whom they will expect to find dead. And if they find him alive, it is most probable that they will do both him and us some deadly mischief. And they may be looked for to-day, or to-morrow, certainly. Besides—”
“There’s no need to say any more, I am sure,” broke in Gilbert. “I didn’t think of the Bushmen. Let us be off at once, I say. I’d rather carry the Hottentot on my shoulders than stay here to be murdered, probably, by those savages!”
“Well, I own I think the return of the Bushmen quite enough by itself,” said the surgeon; “but I ought to add that Omatoko thinks the weather is going to change, and there is likely before long to be a violent storm. None of you have had much experience of what an African storm is like. But I have had quite as much as I desire, and do not wish to encounter it, without a roof of some kind over my head! Well, then, if we are all ready, let us set out at once.”
The grove and pool were soon left behind. Omatoko stepped out valiantly, sometimes leaning on Lavie’s or Warley’s shoulder, and sitting down to rest, whenever a thicket of trees afforded a sufficient close screen to hide the party from sight. They noticed that before leaving any of these coverts, he anxiously scrutinised the horizon towards the north, and once or twice requested the boys to climb the highest tree they could find, and report whether anything was visible in the distance.
His strength and confidence alike seemed to improve as the day advanced. About twelve o’clock they made what was to be their long halt, in a patch of scrub which sprung apparently out of the barren sand, though there was neither spring nor pond anywhere to be seen, nor even any appearance of moisture. They had progressed about four miles in something less than five hours, and were now, Omatoko told them, hardly a mile from their destination. He pointed it out indeed in the distance—a rocky eminence, with a patch of trees and grass lying close to it. But the party had not been seated for ten minutes, and were still engaged in devouring the melons they had brought with them, when their guide again rose and advised their immediately resuming their journey.
“What, go on at once?” exclaimed Gilbert. “Why, what is that for? I am just beginning to get cool—that is, as cool as ever I expect to be again. If we have only a mile to go, we had surely better walk it in the cool of the evening than under this broiling sun.”
“Must not wait,” said Omatoko. “Storm come soon—not able go at all.”
“The storm! Do you see any signs of one, doctor? I don’t.”
“Yes, I see signs; but I own I should not have thought it would break out for some hours. But the changes of the atmosphere are wonderfully rapid in this country, and I have no doubt the Hottentot is right. Will it be on us in another hour, Omatoko?”
“Perhaps half an hour, perhaps three-quarters,” was the answer.
“Half an hour! We must be off this minute, and move as fast as we can. Here, Frank, Ernest—hoist Omatoko on to my shoulders; I can carry him for a quarter of a mile, any way, and that will be ten minutes saved.”
“And I’ll take him as far as I can, when you’ve done with him,” added Warley, “and so, I doubt not, will the others. Lift him up. There, that’s right. Now step out as fast as we can.”
By the time that the doctor’s “quarter of a mile,” as it was called—though it was in reality nearly twice that distance—was completed, the signs of the approaching hurricane began to gather so fast, that even the most unobservant must have perceived them. The clouds came rapidly up, and gradually hid the rich blue of the sky. The light breeze which had stirred the foliage of the few trees which rose above the level of the scrub, gradually died away, and a dead, ominous calm succeeded. Warley, to whose back the sick man had now been transferred, hurried on with all the speed he could command, and rapid way was made. Every minute they expected the rain to burst forth. The black clouds which hid the horizon, every other minute seemed to be split open, and forked flashes of fire issued from them. Presently there came a furious rush of wind, almost icy cold—the immediate precursor of the outburst.
“We close by now,” exclaimed Omatoko, as he was transferred from Ernest’s shoulders to those of Frank. “Not hundred yards off. Turn round tall rock by pool there. Kraal little further on.”
They all ran as fast as their exhausted limbs would allow. The corner was attained, and there, sure enough, some forty or fifty yards further, were the ruins of a number of mud cottages thatched with reed. They were, for the most part, mere ruins. The walls had been broken down, the thatch scattered to the four winds. Some one or two, which had stood in the background, immediately under the shelter of a limestone precipice, had retained their walls, and some portions of the thatch unhurt. But one hut only, which stood in a corner under a sloping shelf, presented the spectacle of a roof still firm and whole. Frank hurried along the narrow defile leading to this cottage, putting out all strength to reach it. He was only a few yards from it, when the tempest at last broke forth in all its fury. The wind swept down with a force, which on the open plain no man or horse would have been able to stand against. The hail, or rather the large lumps of ice into which the rain was frozen, rattled against the rocks like cannon balls against the walls of a besieged fortress, and the sky grew so dark, that it was with difficulty that the travellers could discern each other’s features. But they had reached the friendly shelter of the cottage, and that was everything. For two hours the fury of the elements beggared all description. The rain, which after a quarter of an hour or so had succeeded the hail, seemed to descend in one great sheet of water, converting the path along which they had travelled not half an hour before, into a foaming torrent, bearing trees and stones before it. One flash of lightning succeeded another so rapidly that the light inside the cottage was almost continuous. Lavie looked several times anxiously at the thatch overhead, which could not have resisted the deluge incessantly poured upon it, if it had not been for the shelving rocks which nearly formed a second roof above it. As it was, not a drop penetrated, and when the raging of the wind and the deluge of rain at last subsided, not one of the party had sustained any injury.
The Hottentot had been laid on a heap of reeds which blocked up one corner of the hut, having been driven in there apparently at one time or another by the wind. He had been at first somewhat exhausted by the speed at which he had been carried for the last half mile or so, but he seemed quite restored before the storm had ceased. He now directed the boys to go out and gather some wild medlars, which he had noticed growing on a tree at no great distance from the rocky defile where they had turned aside from the main path, declaring them to be excellent eating. He also requested them to bring him a straight branch, about three feet long, from a particular tree which he described, and a dozen stout reeds from the edge of the pool. Out of these he intended, he said, to make a bow and arrows, by means of which he would soon provide the party with all the food they would require.
“Three feet long?” repeated Gilbert. “You mean six, I suppose.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said the doctor, who had overheard the request. “The bows of all these tribes are not more than three feet in length. I have seen several of them. It is wonderful to see with what force and accuracy they discharge their arrows, considering the material of which they are made. I had better go with you, I think. I know exactly the tree and the size of the bough required.”
Lavie, Wilmore, and Gilbert accordingly set out, leaving Warley to attend to Omatoko, and make the hut as comfortable as he could for a two days’ halt there. Lion also remained behind. As soon as his companions were gone Ernest set about his task.
“There are no chairs or tables to be had in these parts,” he thought. “We must sit on the ground when we do sit, and take our meals off the ground, when we take them. All that can be done is to strew the floor with rushes and grass, which will do also for beds at night I suppose everything outside is soaking wet, and won’t be dry enough for our purpose until it has had a good baking sun upon it for several hours. But the stuff we found in here was quite dry, and perhaps there may be some like it in the other huts. If not, I shall have to cut some from the edge of the pool, I suppose, and lay it out to dry.”
He took Lavie’s hatchet, and went into the nearest hut, the roof of which had been broken in in one or two places, but was still tolerably sound. He saw, as he stepped through the doorway, that he had not been mistaken about the reeds. A large heap had been lodged in one corner by the wind, and seemed to be quite dry. He stepped forward, and laying down his hatchet, gathered up a large armful. In so doing, he trod upon what appeared to be the end of a log: but his foot had no sooner touched it, than it was drawn away from under him, and a sharp hiss warned him that he had disturbed some enemy. At the same instant he felt a strong pressure round his legs and waist, and perceived that he was enveloped in the coils of a large serpent, which was rapidly winding itself round his chest. A moment afterwards, the flat diamond-shaped head came in sight, the eyes glaring fiercely at him, and the slaver dropping from the open jaws. Ernest’s arms were happily free, and he availed himself of the circumstance with the cool promptitude of his character. He glanced for a moment at the hatchet lying on the ground a few feet off; but he felt that it would be impossible for him to stoop to pick it up. It must be a struggle of muscle against muscle. Thrusting out his right hand, he grasped the snake by the neck, at the same time shouting aloud for help. The creature no sooner felt its antagonist’s grasp, than it turned its head, endeavouring to bite. Finding itself unable to seize Ernest’s hand, it drew in its folds, aiming at his face. The lad in an instant found that his muscular power was not nearly equal to that of his enemy. He seized hold of his right wrist with his other hand, throwing the whole power of his frame into the effort, but in vain. Slowly, inch by inch, his sinews were compelled to yield. Inch by inch the horrid fangs came nearer and nearer to his face. With the strength of despair he contrived to keep the reptile at bay for a few minutes longer; but his powers were fast failing him, and he expected every moment to feel the sharp teeth lacerating his flesh. Suddenly a shock seemed to be communicated to the monster’s frame. The terrible grip of the folds relaxed, and the threatening head drooped lax and powerless. Ernest cast his eyes downwards, and perceived that the mastiff had seized the tail in his strong jaws, and had almost bitten it in two. The muscular force of the serpent was paralysed by the wound, and Ernest had no difficulty in disengaging himself from the folds, and flinging them—a helpless and writhing mass—on the ground. Then, catching up the hatchet, he struck off the head, just as Omatoko hobbled up, leaning on a stick, from the adjoining hut.
“Very big snake,” was his comment, “bad poison too. Lucky him no bite white boy, or him dead for certain. Lucky, too, big dog near at hand. Never see bigger snake than that. Him seventeen—eighteen foot long! Big dog just come in time, and that all!”
Meanwhile Warley, who had partially recovered his senses, after bathing his face and hands in the fresh water, was returning heartfelt thanks to Heaven for his narrow and wonderful deliverance from the most dreadful death which the imagination of man can picture.
Warley was still resting, half sitting, half kneeling, on a large stone by the side of the pool, when the sound of voices was heard, and Lavie came up, accompanied by the two boys. They were all evidently in high spirits. The doctor carried over his shoulder the carcass of a goat, which was large and heavy enough to give him plenty of trouble; and Wilmore and Nick each led a young kid by an extempore halter of rushes. The pockets of all three were distended by a goodly heap of wild medlars, which, in accordance with Omatoko’s suggestion, they had gathered, and which they had found extremely refreshing.
“Hallo, Omatoko!” shouted Gilbert as they approached the pool. “Just come here and take charge of this chap, will you? You are more used to this kind of thing than I am. He has done nothing but attempt to bolt the whole way home. I suppose we must eat up the old lady first, otherwise I should suggest that this fellow should be roasted for supper, if only to make sure that he won’t run away again.”
The Hottentot came out from the hut as he spoke. “One, two, three goat,” he said, “dat good, plenty food, all time we stay here.”
“Ay, ay,” said Nick, “they say it is an ill wind that blows no one good; and the hurricane we had an hour or two ago, is, I suppose, a case in point. Any way, it was obliging enough to blow down a big tree, which fell upon the goat there, and finished her outright. She’s a trifle old and tough, I expect; but she’ll make first-rate mulligatawney soup nevertheless; and there will be her two kids, as tender as spring lamb, into the bargain. It makes one’s mouth water to think of them. And, then, there’s those medlars—but, hallo! I say, Ernest, what is the matter? Why, you look as pale and weak as if you were just recovering from a typhus fever. What’s befallen you?”
“I have had a very narrow escape from a most terrible death, Nick,” returned Warley, gravely, “and my nerves haven’t got over it.”
“Hallo! what?” again exclaimed Gilbert. “Escape from death, do you say? Why, what has happened?”
“Just go in there—into that hut to the right, and you’ll see,” was the answer.
Lavie and Wilmore had by this time learned the main outline of what had occurred, from the Hottentot, and they all went into the cottage to examine the remains of the great snake.
“A proper brute, that,” observed Gilbert, as they stood by the side of the reptile, which had by this time ceased to wriggle. “That is the biggest snake I ever came across. There’s his head gone, and a bit of his tail; but I don’t think what remains can be less than twenty feet. Lion, old fellow,” he continued, caressing the dog while Frank patted his head, “you did that well, and shall have a first-chop supper.”
“We can ascertain its length exactly,” said Lavie; “I have got a yard measure here; and here too is the remainder of the tail. Stretch the body straight out, Frank, and I’ll soon tell you the measurement.”
The serpent was accordingly measured, and was found to be some inches more than nineteen feet long.
“What kind of snake is it?” asked Frank, when this point had been determined.
“A python, or boa-constrictor, no doubt,” answered the surgeon; “they give them other names in these parts, but that is the creature. No other description of serpents that I ever heard of attempts to crush up its prey by muscular pressure.”
“But serpents which do that are seldom or never venomous, are they?” inquired Wilmore.
“I believe not,” answered Lavie, “but that point has been disputed. Omatoko calls the reptile an ‘ondara,’ and insists upon it that its bite is not only poisonous, but causes certain death. It may be so. It is evident that it would have bitten Ernest if it could; and serpents that are devoid of venom do not often bite. Well, I suppose now that we have done measuring the snake, we may throw him away. The Hottentots, I believe, eat their flesh. But I conclude none of us have any great inclination to make our dinner off him.”
“No, thank you, sir,” said Frank, “not for me.”
“Nor for me either, doctor,” cried Nick. “I think I’d rather go without food for a week. Here, Ernest, old fellow—you had better go and lie down a bit. You look as if you were having it out with the python still.”
Warley was too unwell to rejoin the party all that day and the next. The shock he had undergone was a very severe one; and would in all likelihood have prostrated any one of his companions for a far longer period. He lay under the shade of the trees on the soft grass the whole day, neither speaking himself nor heeding the remarks of others. Always inclined to be serious and thoughtful, this incident had had the effect of turning his mind to subjects for which his light-hearted companions had little relish, and which Lavie himself could hardly follow. Even when he resumed the old round of occupations, as he did in the course of the third day, Frank and Nick noticed a change in him, which they could not understand.
Meanwhile Omatoko’s bow and arrows proceeded rapidly, and were completed on the morning of the third day. Their construction was a great puzzle to the English lads. The bow was a little less than three feet long, and perhaps three-quarters of an inch thick—neatly enough shaped, and rounded off, but looking little better than a child’s toy. Omatoko had strung it with some sinew from the carcass of the goat. He had looped this over the upper end of the bow, and rolled it round the other in such a fashion that by merely twisting the string like a tourniquet, it might be strung to any degree of tension. The arrows too were wholly different from any they had ever seen. The strong reeds brought from the edge of the water had been cut off in lengths of about two feet. At one end the notch was inserted; to the other a movable head, made of bone, was attached, which stuck fast enough to the shaft during its flight through the air, but which became detached from it as soon as it was fixed in the body of any animal. These bone-heads, Omatoko told them, were always dipped in some poison, which caused even a slight puncture made by them to be fatal. The entrails of the kaa, or poison grub, were considered the most efficient for this purpose; but this was not to be met with at all times or in all places, and the juice of the euphorbia or the venom of serpents was sometimes substituted. In the present instance he meant to steep the bone-heads in the poison of the ondara, which he had carefully preserved. Omatoko assured them that when they set out for his village (as they probably would on the following day), they would soon have an opportunity of testing the efficiency of his weapons, and laughingly challenged them to a trial of skill between his bow and arrows and their guns.
On the following morning accordingly they resumed their route. Each of them carried some of the flesh of the kids, a dozen medlars, and a melon. It was found that the strength of the Hottentot was now so far restored that he could keep up with the usual pace at which the others walked, and only required a rest of half an hour or so, every two or three miles. They accomplished about a dozen miles that day; and at nightfall had reached a wide stony plain, covered here and there with patches of grass, but entirely destitute of shrub or tree. Omatoko pointed out a place where a deep projecting slab of rock, resting on two enormous stones, and bearing a rude resemblance to a giant’s chimney-piece, afforded as convenient a shelter for the night as might be desired. It would effectually protect the party from rain and wind, nor was there the least fear of wild animals, as none were ever known to come within two or three miles of the spot, there being neither pasturage nor water.
“No water,” repeated Frank, “that’s rather a doubtful advantage, isn’t it? What are we to drink, I wonder?”
The Hottentot only grinned in reply; and disengaging the knife which always hung at Nick’s girdle, began grubbing in the ground among the stones. In a few minutes he dug up several round, or rather spherical roots, two or three feet in circumference. These he cut open with the knife, displaying the inside, which had a white appearance, and was soft and pulpy. The boys had no sooner applied this to their lips than they broke out into exclamations of delight. “That’s your sort,” exclaimed Nick; “it’s like a delicious melon, only it’s twice as refreshing.”
“Omatoko, you’re a trump,” cried Frank. “You’d make a fortune, if you could only sell these in Covent Garden market. Nobody that could get them would ever drink water again.”
“What are they called, Charles,” asked Warley. “Are they to be met with elsewhere in South Africa, or only here?”
“The root is called the ‘markwhae,’ I believe,” answered the doctor, “and it is to be found in almost every neighbourhood where there is a want of water. It is another of those wonderful provisions of Divine Wisdom for the wants of its creatures, with which this land abounds. In some parts, such of the wild animals as are herbivorous, are continually digging up and devouring these roots. Vangelt told me that he once came upon a tribe of Hottentots which subsisted entirely without water, the succulent plants supplying even the cattle with sufficient liquid.”
“Well, that is very wonderful,” said Frank. “I declare I feel more refreshed by that one root, than if I had drunk a pailful of water. Are there any more of these roots on the way to your village, Omatoko?”
“Omatoko’s village, one, two days away. No roots, plenty water,” returned the Hottentot. “Well, that will do as well, I suppose. But this is a thing worth knowing, if one should find one’s self in a place where there is no water.”
The next day at sunrise they resumed their way, and made their mid-day halt on the skirts of a dense growth of mingled aloes and underwood, which was scarcely anywhere more than five feet in height. Here they sat down by the side of a spring, which gushed forth from a limestone rock into a small natural basin, whence it spread itself in all directions, sustaining a rich emerald carpet for a few feet round, but soon disappearing in the sand.
“Plenty of visitors here at night,” remarked Warley, gazing curiously round him on the numerous footmarks of all shapes and sizes, with which the borders of the spring were indented. “It must be a curious sight to witness such an omnium gatherum. Only I suppose the more timid animals make sure that the lions and leopards are well out of the way, before they venture here themselves.”
“Of what creature is that the spoor?” asked Frank, pointing to a broad, deep mark, much larger than the rest. “That is the track of some beast which I do not recognise.”
“It is not the track of a beast,” said the surgeon. “Unless I am mistaken, that is the spoor of the ostrich—is it not, Omatoko?”
“Ya, ostrich—plenty ’bout here. See yonder.” He pointed as he spoke to a distant part of the bush, where the heads of a troop of ostriches might be seen as they stalked easily along, browsing as they went.
“Eh, ostriches! You don’t mean it,” exclaimed Frank, starting up in great excitement. “I never saw an ostrich. I want to see one beyond anything! Couldn’t we shoot one, Charles? Are they quite out of shot?”
“Much too far to make it worth while trying,” said Lavie. “But we might bring one or two down by a stratagem, perhaps. If you four spread yourselves in all directions to the right yonder, and drive them this way, I could hide behind the rock there and bring one down as they went past. Couldn’t that be managed, Omatoko?”
“One, two, three, four drive ostrich this way. Omatoko kill one, two—with bow and arrow. Omatoko no miss.”
“What, do you think your bow and arrow better than Charles’s rifle?” exclaimed Nick; “well, that is coming it strong, anyhow.”
“I tell you what,” said Warley, “this will be a famous opportunity for you to have the match out for which you were so anxious the other day. You and Charles shall both hide behind the rock there, and Frank, Nick, and myself will fetch a compass and drive the ostriches past you. Then we shall see which will take the longest and truest shot. What do you say, Charles?”
“I have no objection, I am sure,” said Lavie, laughing; “only I hope the trial won’t go against me. It would be most ignominious to be beaten by a bow and arrows. I should never hear the last of it, I expect!”
“Don’t be afraid, Charles, there’s no fear of that,” returned Warley, reciprocating the laugh. “Well, now let us be off. If you’ll take the right side, Nick, and you, Frank, the left, I’ll take the middle, and we’ll come upon them all together. Lion had better stay here.”
The three lads set out accordingly, creeping noiselessly through the cover of the scrub, at a distance too far for even the quick-eared ostriches to perceive them, until they had all attained their appointed places. Then they advanced on the birds, shouting and hallooing, and waving sticks over their heads.
The ostriches instantly took to flight after their fashion, skimming along with expanded wings, and covering twelve or fourteen feet at every stride. They passed the rock behind which the two marksmen were concealed, at a speed which would have far outstripped the swiftest racehorse at Newmarket. But as they darted by, there came the crack of the doctor’s rifle, and at the same moment Omatoko’s arrow leaped from his bow. Both missiles hit their mark, but with a different result. Charles’s bullet struck the bird he aimed at just under the wing; the shot was mortal, and the ostrich staggering forward a few paces fell dead to the ground Omatoko’s arrow pierced his quarry through the neck, and the barbed point remained in the wound, rendering death equally certain, but not so speedy. Perceiving that the ostrich did not fall, Lion sprang after it, heedless of the doctor’s order to him to return, and a sharp chase began. The ostrich would speedily have distanced its pursuer, if it had not been for the pain and exhaustion of the wound it had received, and the effect of the poison, which had now begun to work. The dog soon began to gain ground, and presently came up with the fugitive; which turned to bay at last in the agony of its rage and fear. Lion had never been trained for the chase of the ostrich, which can only be approached with safety from behind. As he came bounding up, the bird kicked at him, throwing its leg forward as a man does, and with such tremendous force that the mastiff fell to the ground on the instant, bleeding and stunned, if not dead. Then the wounded bird staggered away into the scrub, its strength and courage giving way more and more every moment.
The boys had no time to congratulate their friend on his victory, or even to examine the fallen ostrich. Their thoughts were wholly occupied with the disaster which had befallen Lion.
“Lion, Lion, dear old boy, how could you be so foolish?” exclaimed Frank, as he picked up the bleeding and insensible body of his favourite. “I am afraid he’s killed. That kick would have finished a horse, let alone a dog. What fearful strength those creatures must have! Oh, Lion, Lion, my poor old fellow! I’d rather have broken my leg any day than lost you.”
“Let me take a look at him,” said Lavie, who had now come up. “All depends on where the ostrich’s foot struck him. No, I don’t think he’s killed, Frank,” he added presently, after feeling the animal all over. “There are a couple of ribs broken, and a large bruise in the side, but that seems to be the extent of the casualty. I’ll set the ribs, and he must keep quiet for some days, and then I expect he’ll be right again.”
“Oh, I am so glad,” said Wilmore. “Yes, you’re right, Charles,” he continued, as the dog opened its eyes again and attempted to get up, but fell back on the grass with a low moan of pain. “Never mind, Lion, we’ll nurse you through it, old chap, won’t we?”
“Relieve each other in alternate watches, change bandages, and apply fresh lotion every three hours,” suggested Nick. “But with all possible respect for Lion, how are we to do that? Where are the bandages, and where the lotion? Nay, where is the hospital bed to which the patient is to be consigned?”
“Omatoko must put up a hut, and we must stay here until Lion can go with us,” said Wilmore gruffly. “If we could wait three days for a pagan Hottentot, we may wait as many, surely, for a Christian dog!”
“I don’t think you’ll get Omatoko to stay here for all the dogs that ever were whelped,” said Nick. “He’s in too much of a hurry to put salt on the tails of those Bushmen.”
“He must stay, and he shall!” returned Wilmore angrily; “I won’t have the dog thrown over. We are four, and he is only one. Stay he shall, I say.”
“Gently, Frank,” said the doctor. “I’m against throwing Lion over as much as you are, but I don’t see how we can stay here. The dog won’t be fit to walk—no, not a hundred yards—for this fortnight, and it would probably kill him, if he attempted it.”
“What’s to be done, then?” rejoined Frank shortly.
“Do as we did with Omatoko. Make a litter and carry him to the Hottentot kraal. It is not more than seven or eight miles, and we can relieve one another. Luckily he is not such a weight as Omatoko. I suppose that will satisfy you, won’t it?”
“Yes, of course, Charles,” said Wilmore. “It is very kind of you. I am afraid I was rather cross, wasn’t I? but you see—”
“All right, old fellow, I know you’re fond of Lion; so we all are, though perhaps not so fond. Do you go and cut some of the osiers there, Omatoko will soon make them into a basket, large enough to hold the dog, and we’ll carry it on a pole slung across our shoulders. Meanwhile I’ll dress the old fellow’s wounds.”
Omatoko proved to be as skilful a basket-maker as Lavie had predicted; and the party were making preparations for a start, when the Hottentot, who had just returned from the osier bed with a last supply of twigs, announced that there was a herd of noble koodoos about half a mile off, feeding on a patch of sweet grass. They were rare in that part of the country, and the best of eating. “Suppose we kill two, three, four of them; my people like them much. They come fetch them.”
“Two, three, or four,” exclaimed Frank—“who is going to do that? Why, these koodoos, if I have been told rightly, are the shyest of all the boks, and won’t let any one come near them. We might possibly get one shot, but certainly not more.”
“Me do it,” said the Hottentot; “no want help; white boy only sit still.”
There seemed no reason for refusing his request, and the boys, laying aside the various articles with which they had loaded themselves, watched his proceedings with a good deal of interest. He first took the knife, and going to the spot where the body of the ostrich was lying, passed it round the creature’s throat and under the wings, severing these parts from the rest of the carcass. He then slit open the long neck from top to bottom, removed the bones and flesh, and introduced in their place a strong stick, over which he neatly sewed up the skin again. He then cleared away in like manner the blood and the fat from the back and wings, and sewed another pad of skin under them. These preparations took a considerable time; but Omatoko assured the lookers-on that there was little fear of the koodoos leaving their present pasture for several hours to come at the least, unless they should be molested.
The Hottentot had now nearly done his work; his last act was to gather up in his hand some light-tinted earth, which was nearly of the same colour as an ostrich’s legs, and dipping it in water, besmeared his own supporters with it. Then taking his bow and arrows in one hand, and the back and neck of the slain bird in the other, he crept down into the bush. Presently the boys saw the figure of an ostrich appear above the shrubs and stalk leisurely along, pecking at the herbage right and left, as it advanced.
“That can’t be Omatoko, to be sure,” cried Frank in amazement; “that’s a real ostrich! Where can he be hiding?”
“He is waiting for the others,” said Warley. “See yonder, the whole flock are returning. Omatoko will no doubt slip in among them. We shall distinguish him, if we watch narrowly.”
It seemed as if Ernest was right. The ostriches came straggling back through the bush, and the one they had noticed first lingered about till they had overtaken him, when he accompanied them as they strayed on towards the koodoos.
“Do you see Omatoko?” asked Nick, as the ostriches and boks became mingled together.
“No, I don’t,” said Frank, “He can’t have come out yet. He is biding his time, I expect.”
At this moment there came a faint sound like the distant twanging of a bow, and one of the boks was seen to fall. The herd started and looked suspiciously round them; and the ostriches seemed to share their uneasiness. But there was no enemy in sight, and after a few minutes of anxious hesitation, they recommenced browsing. A second twang was succeeded by a second fall, and the boks again tossed their heads and snuffed the air, prepared for immediate flight. They still lingered, however, until the overthrow of a third of their number effectually roused them. They bounded off at their utmost speed, but not before a fourth shaft had laid one of the fugitives low. Then the lads, full of astonishment and admiration, came racing up, and Omatoko, throwing off his disguise, exclaimed exultingly—
“Two, three, four; Omatoko said ‘four.’ White boy believe Omatoko now!”
“He has you there, Frank,” said Nick, laughing; “but I must own I could not have believed it possible, if I had not seen it.”
“Live and learn,” said Lavie. “I had seen it before, or I might have been of your mind. Well, Omatoko, what now? We have stayed so long that. We shan’t be able to reach your village to-night, if we carry the dog.”
“Omatoko go alone. He bring men to-morrow; carry koodoo, dog and all.”
“Very good,” said the doctor, “and we’ll camp here. That will suit us all.”