'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

  AT SWAANEPOEL'S HOEK.

  Several months had gone by.

  The war was nearly over now. Struck on all sides--decimated by theterrible breech-loading weapons of the whites--harried even in theirwildest strongholds, their supplies running low, their crops destroyed,and winter upon them--the insurgent tribes recognised that they wereirretrievably worsted. They had no heart for further fighting--theirprincipal thought now was to make the best terms they could forthemselves. So all along the frontier the disheartened savages wereflocking in to lay down their arms and surrender. Those who belonged toindependent tribes in the Transkei were treated as belligerents--andafter being disarmed were located at such places as the Governmentthought fit. Those who were British subjects, and whose locations werewithin the colonial boundaries, such as the Gaikas, Hlambis, and asection of the Tembus, were treated as rebels and lodged in gaol untilsuch time as it should please the authorities to put them on their trialfor high treason, treason, felony, or sedition, according to their rank,responsibilities, or deeds. Still the unfortunate barbarians preferredto discount the chances of the future against present starvation--andcontinued to come in, in swarms. The gaols were soon crammed tooverflowing; so, too, were the supplementary buildings hired for theemergency.

  Not all, however, had preferred imprisonment with plenty to liberty withstarvation. There were still armed bands lurking in the forest recessesof the Amatola, and in the rugged and bushy fastnesses beyond the Kei.While most of the chiefs of the colonial tribes had either surrenderedor been slain, the head and Paramount Chief of all was still at large."Kreli must be captured or killed," was the general cry. "Until this isdone the war can never be considered at an end." But the old chief hadno intention of submitting to either process if he could possibly helpit. He continued to make himself remarkably scarce.

  Another character who was very particularly wanted was Hlangani, and forthis shrewd and daring leader the search was almost as keen as for Krelihimself. Common report had killed him over and over again, but somehowthere was no satisfactory evidence of his identification. Then a wildrumour got about that he had been sent by his chief on a mission toinvoke the aid of the Zulu King, who at that time was, rightly orwrongly, credited with keeping South Africa in general, and the colonyof Natal in particular, in a state of uneasiness and alarm. But,wherever he was, like his chief, and the "bold gendarmes" of theburlesque song, he continued to be "when wanted never there."

  All these reports and many more reached Eustace Milne, who had taken noactive part in frontier affairs since we saw him last. He had even beensounded as to his willingness to undertake a post on behalf of theGovernment which should involve establishing diplomatic relations withthe yet combatant bands, but this he had declined. He intended to dowhat he could for certain of the rebels later on, but meanwhile the timehad not yet come.

  Moreover, he was too happy amid the peaceful idyllic life he was thenleading to care to leave it even for a time in order to serve apotentially ungrateful country. And it was idyllic. There was quiteenough to do on the place to keep even his energetic temperament active.The stock which had constituted the capital of their common partnershipand had been sent to Swaanepoel's Hoek at the outbreak of the warrequired considerable looking after, for, owing to the change of_veldt_, it did not thrive as well as could be wished. And then theplace afforded plenty of sport; far more than Anta's Kloof had done.Leopards, wild pigs, and bushbucks abounded in the bushy kloofs; indeed,there were rather too many of the former, looking at it from the farmingpoint of view. The valley bottoms and the water courses were full ofguinea-fowl and francolins, and high up on the mountain slopes, the vaalrykbok might be shot for the going after, to say nothing of a plentifulsprinkling of quail and now and then a bustard. Eustace was oftenconstrained to admit to himself that he would hardly have believed itpossible that life could hold such perfect and unalloyed happiness.

  He had, as we have said, plenty of wholesome and congenial work, withsport to his heart's content, and enjoyed a complete immunity from careor worry. These things alone might make any man happy. But there wasanother factor in this instance. There was the sweet companionship ofone whom he had loved passionately when the case was hopeless and shewas beyond his reach, and whom he loved not less absorbingly now thatall barriers were broken down between them, now that they would soonbelong to each other until their life's end. This was the influencethat cast a radiant glow upon the doings and undertakings of everydaylife, encircling everything with a halo of love, even as the very peaceof Heaven.

  Not less upon Eanswyth did the same influences fall. The revulsionfollowing upon that awful period of heart-break and despair had givenher fresh life indeed. In her grand beauty, in the full glow of healthand perfect happiness, no one would have recognised the white, strickenmourner of that time. She realised that there was nothing on earth leftto desire. And then her conscience would faintly reproach her. Had shea right to revel in such perfect happiness in the midst of a world ofsorrow and strife?

  But the said world seemed to keep very fairly outside that idyllicabode. Now and then they would drive or ride into Somerset East, orvisit or be visited by a neighbour--the latter not often. The bulk ofthe surrounding settlers were Boers, and beyond exchanging a fewneighbourly civilities from time to time they saw but little of them.This, however, was not an unmixed evil.

  Bentley had been as good as his word. His wife was a capitalhousekeeper and had effectively taken all cares of that nature offEanswyth's hands. Both were thoroughly good and worthy people, ofcolonial birth, who, by steadiness and trustworthy intelligence, hadworked their way up from a very lowly position. Unlike too many oftheir class, however, they were not consumed with a perennial anxiety toshow forth their equality in the sight of Heaven with those whom theyknew to be immeasurably their superiors in birth and culture, and towhom, moreover, they owed in no small degree their own well-being. Sothe relations existing between the two different factors which composedthe household were of the most cordial nature.

  There had been some delay in settling up Tom Carhayes' affairs--in fact,they were not settled yet. With a good sense and foresight, ratherunexpected in one of his unthinking and impulsive temperament, poor Tomhad made his will previous to embarking on the Gcaleka campaign.Everything he possessed was bequeathed to his wife--with no restrictionupon her marrying again--and Eustace and a mutual friend were appointedexecutors.

  This generosity had inspired in Eanswyth considerable compunction, andwas the only defective spoke in the wheel of her present greathappiness. Sometimes she almost suspected that her husband had guessedat how matters really stood, and the idea cost her more than oneremorseful pang. Yet, though she had failed in her allegiance, it wasin her heart alone. She would have died sooner than have done sootherwise, she told herself.

  Twice had the executors applied for the necessary authority toadminister the estate. But the Master of the Supreme Court professedhimself not quite satisfied. The evidence as to the testator's actualdeath struck him as inadequate--resting, as it did, upon the soletestimony of one of the executors, who could not even be positive thatthe man was dead when last seen by him. He might be alive still, thoughheld a prisoner. Against this view was urged the length of time whichhad elapsed, and the utter improbability that the Gcaleka bands, brokenup and harried, as they were, from point to point, would hamperthemselves with a prisoner, let alone a member of that race toward whichthey had every reason to entertain the most uncompromising andimplacable rancour. The Supreme Court, however, was immovable. Whenhostilities were entirely at an end, they argued, evidence might beforthcoming on the part of natives who had actually witnessed thetestator's death. That fact incontestably established, letters ofadministration could at once be granted. Meanwhile the matter must bepostponed a little longer.

  This delay affected those most concerned not one whit. There was notthe slightest fear of Eanswyth's interests sufferin
g in the able handswhich held their management. Only, the excessive caution manifested bythe law's representatives would at times communicate to Eustace Milne avague uneasiness. What if his cousin should be alive after all? Whatif he had escaped under circumstances which would involve perforce hisabsence during a considerable period? He might have gained the seashore, for instance, and been picked up by a passing ship bound to somedistant country, whose captain would certainly decline to diverge manydays out of his course to oblige one unknown castaway. Such things hadhappened. Still, the idea was absurd, he told himself, for, even if itwas so, sufficient time had elapsed for the missing man, in these daysof telegraphs and swift mail steamers, to make known his whereabouts,even if not to return in person. He had not seen dim actually killed inhis conflict with Hlangani--indeed, the fact of that strange duel havingbeen fought with kerries, only seemed to point to the fact that nokilling was intended. That he was only stunned and disabled whendragged away out of sight Eustace could swear, but why should thatimplacable savage make such a point of having the absolute disposal ofhis enemy, if it were not to execute the most deadly ferocious vengeanceupon him which lay in his power? That the wretched man had beenfastened down to be devoured alive by black ants, even as the pretendedwizard had been treated, Eustace entertained hardly any doubt--wouldhave entertained none, but that the witch-doctress's veiled hint hadpointed to a fate, if possible, even more darkly horrible. No, afterall this time, his unfortunate cousin could not possibly be alive. Theactual mode of his death might forever remain a mystery, but that he wasdead was as certain as anything in this world can be. Any suspicion tothe contrary he resolved to dismiss effectually from his mind.

  Eanswyth would often accompany her lover during his rides about the_veldt_ looking after the stock. She would not go with him, however,when he was on sporting intent, she had tried it once or twice, but thebucks had a horrid knack of screaming in the most heart-rending fashionwhen sadly wounded and not killed outright, and Eustace's assurance thatthis was due to the influence of fear and not of pain, entirely failedto reconcile her to it. [A fact. The smaller species of antelope herereferred to, however badly wounded, will not utter a sound until seizedupon by man or dog, when it screams as described. The same holds goodof the English hare.] But when on more peaceful errand bent, she wasnever so happy as when riding with him among the grand and romanticscenery of their mountain home. She was a first-rate horsewoman andequally at home in the saddle when her steed was picking his way alongsome dizzy mountain path on the side of a grass slope as steep as theroof of a house with a series of perpendicular _krantzes_ below, or whenpursuing some stony and rugged bush track where the springy _spekboem_boughs threatened to sweep her from her seat every few yards.

  "We are partners now, you know, dearest," she would say gaily, when hewould sometimes urge the fatigue and occasionally even the risk of theselong and toilsome rides. "While that law business still hangs fire thepartnership can't be dissolved, I suppose. Therefore I claim my rightto do my share of the work."

  It was winter now. The clear mountain air was keen and crisp, andalthough the nights were bitterly cold, the days were lovely. The skywas a deep, cloudless blue, and the sun poured his rays down into thevalleys with a clear, genial warmth which just rendered perceptible thebracing exhilaration of the air. Thanks to the predominating _spekboem_and other evergreen bushes, the winter dress of Nature suffered butlittle diminution in verdure; and in grand contrast many a statelysummit soared proudly aloft, capped with a white powdering of snow.

  Those were days of elysium indeed, to those two, as they rode abroadamong the fairest scenes of wild Nature; or, returning at eve, threadedthe grassy bush-paths, while the crimson winged louris flashed from treeto tree, and the francolins and wild guinea-fowl, startled by thehorses' hoofs, would scuttle across the path, echoing their grating noteof alarm. And then the sun, sinking behind a lofty ridge, would flinghis parting rays upon the smooth burnished faces of the great red cliffsuntil they glowed like molten fire.

  Yes, those were indeed days to look back upon.