CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
"WE ARE FOUR FOOLS."
For upwards of two hours they forced their way through the thick scrub,but success did not crown their efforts--did not even wait upon thesame. Once or twice a rustle and a scamper in front announced thatsomething had got up and broken away, but whatever it was, owing to thethickness of the bush and the celerity with which it made itself scarce,not one of the hunters could determine--being unable so much as to catcha glimpse of the quarry. At length, wearied with their failure toobtain sport under abnormal difficulties, they gained the edge of theriver, and there, upon a patch of smooth greensward beneath the coolshade of a cliff, they decided to off-saddle and have a snack.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Hoste, looking complacently around. "This is alovely spot for a picnic. But wouldn't John Kafir have us in a holejust, if he were to come upon us now?"
"We are four fools," said Payne sententiously.
"We are," growled Carhayes. "You never said a truer word than that.Four damned fools to think we'd get a shot at anything in a strip ofcursed country we've been chevying niggers up and down for the last sixweeks. And as the idea was mine, I suppose I'm the champion fool of thelot," he added with a savage laugh. "We haven't fired a shot thisblessed morning, and have had all our trouble for nothing."
This was not precisely the reflection that Payne's words were intendedto convey. But he said nothing.
"I'm not sure we have had our trouble for nothing," put in Eustace."It's grand country, anyhow."
It was. Magnificent and romantic scenery surrounded them; hugeperpendicular krantzes towering up many hundreds of feet; piles uponpiles of broken rocks and boulders, wherein the luxuriant and tangledvegetation had profusely taken root; great rifts and ravines, coveredwith dense black forest, and the swift murmuring current of the riverjoining its music with the piping of birds from rock and brake.
But the remark was productive of a growl only from Carhayes. He had notcome out to look at scenery. They had had enough and to spare of thatduring the campaign. He had come out to get a shot at a buck, andhadn't got it.
Pipes were lighted, and the quartette lounged luxuriously upon thesward. The frowning grandeur of the towering heights, the golden glowof the sunlight upon the tree-tops, the soft, sensuous warmth of thesummer air, the hum of insects, and the plashing murmur of the river,unconsciously affected all four--even grumbling, dissatisfied TomCarhayes.
"Whisht!" said Payne suddenly, holding up his hand to enjoin silence,and starting from his lounging attitude. The others were prompt tofollow his example.
"What's the row, George?" whispered Hoste below his breath. "Hearanything?"
For answer Payne waved his hand again and went on listening intently.
Up the sunlit river came a sound--a sound audible to all now, a soundfamiliar to all--the tread of hoofs upon the stones, of unshod hoofs.Mingling with this were other sounds--the low murmur of human voices.Water, as everybody knows, is a great conductor of sound. Though morethan half a mile distant, they recognised the deep tones and inflectionsof Kafir voices, whose owners were evidently coming down to the river onthe same side as themselves.
From their resting place the river ran in a long, straight reach.Peering cautiously through the bushes, they were able to command this.Almost immediately several large oxen, with great branching horns,emerged from the forest, and, entering the water, splashed through tothe other side. They were followed by their drivers, three nakedKafirs, who plunged into the river in their wake, holding their assegaishigh over their heads, for the water came fully breast-high. They couldeven hear the rattle of the assegai hafts as the savages climbed up theopposite bank, laughing like children as they shook the water drops fromtheir sleek, well-greased skins. They counted thirteen head of cattle.
"A baker's dozen, by Jove! Stolen, of course," whispered Hoste."_Allamaghtaag_! if only we had known of that before we might have goneto _voer-ly_ [Waylay] that drift, for it must be a drift. We might havebagged all three niggers and trundled the oxen back to camp. A fullspan, save three. Suppose they've eaten the rest. That'll be oneapiece--the _schelms_!"
"It isn't altogether too late now," said Carhayes. "I smell some funahead. Let them get up over the rise, and then we'll go down and lookif their spoor seems worth following."
"And what if they are only the advance guard of a lot more?" suggestedHoste.
"They are not," was the confident reply. "There are too few beasts andtoo few niggers. I tell you there's some fun sticking out for us."
Quickly the horses were saddled. A high, bushy ridge precluded allchance of their presence being discovered by the three marauders as soonas the latter had crossed the river, and it certainly had not beendiscovered before. Then, having allowed sufficient time to elapse, theyforded the river and rode forward on the other side, so as to convergeon the spoor leading up from the drift below.
"Here it is--as plain as mud," said Carhayes, bending over in his saddleto examine the ground, which, dry and sandy, showed the hoof-prints andfootmarks so plainly that a child might have followed them. "They arewell over the rise by now, and the way isn't so rough as I expected.Our plan is to make straight for the top of the hill. We can't get upmuch quicker than they can, I'm afraid, unless we want to blow ourhorses, which we don't. But once we are up there we shall find it allopen _veldt_, and all we've got to do is to ride them down in the open,shoot the niggers, and head the stock back for the river again. Anyonepropose an amendment to that resolution?"
"We are four fools," said Payne laconically, knocking the ashes out ofhis pipe and pocketing that useful implement.
"_Ja_! That's so," said Carhayes, joining heartily in the laugh whichgreeted this remark. "And now, boys, are we on for the fun, that's thequestion?"
"We just are," cried Hoste, whose dare-devil recklessness was akin tothat of Carhayes. The other two acquiesced silently, but as they caughteach other's glance, a curious satirical twinkle lurked in the eyes ofboth men.
"A case of the tail wagging the dog," presently whispered Payne toEustace. "Two wise men led by two fools!"
The track, rough and stony, took longer to follow than they hadexpected. Moreover they had to exercise extreme care, lest the clink ofthe hoof-stroke of a shod horse perchance stumbling on the rocky wayshould be borne to the quick, watchful ears of those they werefollowing. At length, however, the brow of the ridge was gained, andthere before them lay a rolling expanse of open country, yet not so openas Carhayes had predicted, for it was pretty thickly dotted with mimosa,and the grass was long, coarse, and tangled, rendering rapid ridingdangerous in parts.
Suddenly they came right upon a kraal nestling in a mimosa coveredvalley. Three old hags were seated against one of the beehive shapedhuts, otherwise the place seemed quite deserted. No children were to beseen--not even a half-starved cur skulking around--and of men or cattlethere was no sign. The spoor they were following had grown veryindistinct, and here seemed to split up into several directions.
The old women, frightful, toothless crones, all wrinkles and flaps,showed no signs of alarm at this unexpected appearance of the invadingwhite men. On the contrary, they began to abuse them roundly in ashrill, quavering treble.
"Macbeth _in excelsis_!" murmured Eustace at sight of them.
"Stop that cackling, you old hell-cats!" said Carhayes with a growl likethat of a savage dog, as he drew his revolver and pointed it right atthem, a pantomime which they thoroughly understood, for theirhigh-pitched abuse dropped to a most doleful howl. "Here, Eustace. Youcan patter the lingo better than any of us, and I haven't the patience,damn it! Ask these old rag bags which way the fellows with the oxentook."
"We know nothing about men or oxen," came the prompt and whimperingreply.
"You do know. Tell us quickly!" repeated Eustace warningly.
Sullenly the first disclaimer was reiterated.
A furious expletive burst from Carhayes.
"We can't lose an
y more time being fooled by these infernal old hags!"he cried. "If they don't tell us before I count five I'll put a bulletthrough each of them. Now--_Inye_--_zimbini_--_zintatu_..." [One--two--three.]
"Hold hard, don't be a fool," warned Payne. "The shots are bound to beheard."
"So they are. I know a better trick than that." And striking a matchCarhayes walked his horse up to the nearest hut. This was sufficient.The old crones shrieked for mercy, while one of them quavered out:
"Ride that way, _abelungu_!" [White men] pointing in a direction theyhad not intended to take. "But you will have to ride far--very far."
Believing they had inspired sufficient terror to insure the truth ofthis information, and furiously cursing the time wasted in eliciting it,Carhayes crammed the spurs into his horse's flanks and started off at agallop, followed by the other three. But the old crone's statementproved correct. A couple of miles further the tracks, which had beenmore or less scattered and indistinct, converged into one broad spoor.Another ridge, then down into a kloof, and up the other side. Then, asthey gained the brow of yet another ridge, an excited ejaculation burstfrom the lips of all four. Nearly a mile in front, stringing up a long,gradual acclivity, trotted the thirteen oxen, urged forward by threenatives.
"Hurrah! Now we'll cut 'em out!" yelled Carhayes, as they dashedforward in pursuit. The Kafirs, loath to abandon their spoil untilabsolutely forced to do so, redoubled their efforts, as with loud shoutsand waving karosses they strove to accelerate the pace of the alreadyoverdriven animals.
"We'd better risk a long shot," shouted Hoste, as it became apparentthat the pursued were very near the top of the rise, and in anothermoment would be out of sight. "There may be a lot of bush, on the otherside, and we may lose them."
"No. Better not lose time or distance," said the more prudent Payne."We'll have 'em directly."
'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War Page 22