The Settler and the Savage

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  SHOWS THE PLEASURES, PAINS, AND PENALTIES OF HOUSEKEEPING IN THE BUSH.

  "Don't you think this a charming life?" asked Mrs Brook of Mrs Merton,who had been her guest for a week.

  Mrs Merton was about thirty years of age, and opinionated, if notstrong-minded, also rather pretty. She had married young, and hereldest son, a lad of twelve, had brought her from her husband's farm,some three miles distant from that of Edwin Brook.

  "No, Mrs Brook, I don't like it at all," was Mrs Merton's emphaticreply.

  "Indeed!" said Mrs Brook, in some surprise.

  She said nothing more after this for some time, but continued to ply herneedle busily, while Mrs Scholtz, who by some piece of unusual goodfortune had got Junkie to sleep, plied her scissors in cutting out andshaping raw material.

  The two dames, with the nurse and Gertie, had agreed to unite theirpowers that day in a resolute effort to overtake the household repairs.They were in a cottage now, of the style familiarly known as "wattle anddab," which was rather picturesque than permanent, and suggestive ofsimplicity. They sat on rude chairs, made by Scholtz, round a roughtable by the same artist. Mrs Brook was busy with the rends in a bluepilot-cloth jacket, a dilapidated remnant of the "old England" wardrobe.The nurse was forming a sheep skin into a pair of those unmentionableswhich were known among the Cape-colonists of that period by the name of"crackers." Mrs Merton was busy with a pair of the same, the knees ofwhich had passed into a state of nonentity, while other parts wereapproaching the same condition. Gertie was engaged on a pair of socks,whose original formation was overlaid by and nearly lost in subsequentdeposits.

  "Why do you like this sort of life, Mrs Brook?" asked Mrs Mertonsuddenly.

  "Because it is so new, so busy, so healthy, so thoroughly practical.Such a constant necessity for doing something useful, and a constantsupply of something useful to do, and then such a pleasant feeling ofrest when at last you do get your head on a pillow."

  "Oh! it's delightful!" interpolated Gertie in a low voice.

  "Well, now, that is strange. Everything depends on how one looks atthings.--What do _you_ think, Mrs Scholtz?" asked Mrs Merton.

  "I've got no time to think, ma'am," replied the nurse, giving the embryocrackers a slice that bespoke the bold fearless touch of a thoroughartist. "When Junkie's not asleep he keeps body and brain fullyemployed, and when he is asleep I'm glad to let body and brain alone."

  "What is your objection to this life, Mrs Merton?" asked Mrs Brook,with a smile.

  "Oh! I've no special objection, only I hate it altogether. How is itpossible to like living in a wilderness, with no conveniences aroundone, no society to chat with, no books to read, and, above all, no shopsto go to, where one is obliged to drudge at menial work from morningtill night, and one's boys and girls get into rags and tatters, andone's husband becomes little better than a navvy, to say nothing ofsnakes and scorpions in one's bed and boots, and the howling of wildbeasts all night? I declare, one might as well live in a menagerie."

  "But you must remember that things are in a transition state just now,"rejoined Mrs Brook. "As we spread and multiply over the land, thingswill fall more into shape. We shall have tailors and dressmakers totake the heavy part of our work in this way, and the wild beasts willretire before the rifle and the plough of civilised man; no doubt, also,shops will come in due course."

  "And what of the Kafirs?" cried Mrs Merton sternly. "Do you flatteryourself that either the plough or the rifle will stop their thievishpropensities? Have we not learned, when too late--for here we are, andhere we must bide,--that the black wretches have been at loggerheadswith the white men ever since this was a colony, and is it not clearthat gentle treatment and harsh have alike failed to improve them?"

  "Wise treatment has yet to be tried," said Mrs Brook.

  "Fiddlesticks!" returned Mrs Merton impatiently. "What do you callwise treatment?"

  "Gospel treatment," replied Mrs Brook.

  "Oh! come now, you know that _that_ has also been tried, and hassignally failed. Have we not heard how many hundreds of so-called blackconverts in this and in other colonies are arrant hypocrites, or at allevents give way before the simplest temptations?"

  "I have also heard," returned Mrs Brook, "of many hundreds of so-calledwhite Christians, whose lives prove them to be the enemies of ourSaviour, and who do not even condescend to hypocrisy, for they willplainly tell you that they `make no pretence to be religious,' thoughthey call themselves Christians. But that does not prove gospeltreatment among the English to have been a failure. You have heard, Idaresay, of the Hottentot robber Africaner, who was long the terror andscourge of the district where he lived, but who, under the teaching ofour missionary Mr Moffat, or rather, I should say, under the influenceof God's Holy Spirit, has led a righteous, peaceful, Christian life formany years. He is alive still to prove the truth of what I say."

  "I'll believe it when I see it," returned Mrs Merton, with a decisivecompression of her lips.

  "Well, many people have testified to the truth of this, and some ofthese people have seen Africaner and have believed."

  "Humph!" returned Mrs Merton.

  This being an unanswerable argument, Mrs Brook smiled by way of reply,and turned a sleeve inside out, the better to get at its dilapidations.Changing the subject, she desired Gertie to go and prepare dinner, as itwas approaching noon.

  "What shall I prepare, mother?" asked Gertie, laying down her work.

  "You'd better make a hash of the remains of yesterday's leg of mutton,dear; it will be more quickly done than the roasting of another leg, andwe can't spare time on cookery to-day. I daresay Mrs Merton willexcuse--"

  "Mrs Brook," interrupted Mrs Merton, with that Spartan-likeself-denial to which she frequently laid claim, without, however, theslightest shadow of a title, "I can eat anything on a emergency. Havethe hash by all means."

  "And I'm afraid, Mrs Merton," continued Mrs Brook, in an apologetictone, "that we shall have to dine without bread to-day--we have runshort of flour. My husband having heard that the Thomases have recentlygot a large supply, has gone to their farm to procure some, but theirplace is twelve miles off, so he can't be back till night. You won'tmind, I trust?"

  Mrs Merton vowed that she didn't mind, became more and more Spartanicin her expression and sentiments, and plied her needle with increaseddecision.

  Just then Gertie re-entered the cottage with a face expressive ofconcern.

  "Mother, there's no meat in the larder."

  "No meat, child? You must be mistaken. We ate only a small part ofyesterday's leg."

  "Oh! ma'am," exclaimed the nurse, dropping the scissors suddenly, andlooking somewhat guilty, "I quite forgot, ma'am, to say that master,before he left this morning, and while you was asleep, ma'am, ordered meto give all the meat we had in the house to Scholtz, as he was to beaway four or five days, and would require it all, so I gave him the legthat was hanging up in the larder, and master himself took the remainsof yesterday's leg, bidding me be sure to tell George to kill a sheepand have meat ready for dinner."

  "Oh, well, it doesn't matter," said Mrs Brook; "we shall just have towait a little longer."

  Nurse looked strangely remorseful.

  "But, ma'am--" she said, and paused.

  "Well, nurse!"

  "I forgot, ma'am--indeed I did--to tell George to kill a sheep."

  Mrs Brook's hands and work fell on her lap, and she looked from MrsScholtz to her visitor, and from her to the anxious Gertie, withoutspeaking.

  "Why, what's the matter?" asked Mrs Merton.

  "My dear," replied Mrs Brook, with a touch of solemnity, "George Dally,our man, asked me this morning if he might go into the bush to cutrafters for the new kitchen, and I gave him leave, knowing nothing ofwhat arrangements had been made before--and--and--in short, there's nota man on the place, and--there's nothing to eat."

  The four females looked at each other in blank silence for a fewseconds, as
the full significance of their circumstances became quiteclear to them.

  Mrs Merton was the first to recover.

  "Now," said she, while the Spartanic elements of her nature becameintensified, "we must rise to this occasion like true women; we mustprove ourselves to be not altogether dependent on man; we must face thedifficulty, sink the natural tenderness of our sex, and--and--kill asheep!"

  She laid down the crackers on the table with an air of resolution, androse to put her fell intent in execution.

  But the carrying out of her plan was not so easy as the good lady had,at the first blush of the thing, imagined it would be. In the firstplace, like other heroes and heroines, she experienced the enervatingeffects of opposition and vacillating purpose in others.

  "You must all help me," she said, with the air of a commander-in-chief.

  "Help you to kill a sheep, ma'am?" said Mrs Scholtz, with a shudder,"I'll die first! I couldn't do it, and I wouldn't, for my weight ingold."

  Notwithstanding the vehemence of her protestation, the nurse stood byand listened while the other conspirators talked in subdued tones, andwith horrified looks, of the details of the contemplated murder.

  "I never even saw the dreadful deed done," said Mrs Brook, becomingpale as she thought of it.

  "Oh, mamma! much better go without meat; we could dine on cakes,"suggested Gertie.

  "But my love, there is not a cake or an ounce of flour in the house."

  "Women!" exclaimed Mrs Merton severely, "we must rise to the occasion.I am hungry _now_, and it is not yet noon; what will be our condition ifwe wait till night for our dinner?"

  This was a home-thrust. The conspirators shuddered and agreed to do thedeed. Gertie, in virtue of her youth, was exempted from taking anyactive part, but an unaccountable fascination constrained her to followand be a witness--in short, an accomplice.

  "Do you know where--where--the _knife_ is kept?" asked Mrs Merton.

  Mrs Scholtz knew, and brought it from the kitchen.

  It was a keen serviceable knife, with a viciously sharp point. MrsMerton received it, coughed, and hurried out to the sheep-fold, followedby her accomplices.

  To catch a sheep was not difficult, for the animals were all more orless tame and accustomed to gentle treatment by the females, but to holdit was quite another thing. Mrs Merton secured it by the head, MrsScholtz laid hold of the tail, and Mrs Brook fastened her fingers inthe wool of its back. Each female individually was incapable of holdingthe animal, though a very small one had been purposely selected, butcollectively they were more than a match for it. After a short struggleit was laid on its side, and its feet were somewhat imperfectly securedwith a pocket-handkerchief.

  "Now, ma'am," cried Mrs Scholtz, holding tight to the tail and shuttingher eyes, "do be quick."

  Mrs Merton, also shutting her eyes, struck feebly with the knife. Theothers, having likewise shut their eyes, waited a few seconds in a stateof indescribable horror, and then opened them to find that the Spartanlady had missed her mark, and planted her weapon in the ground! Sofeeble, however, had been the stroke that it had barely penetrated aninch of the soil.

  "Oh, Mrs Merton!" exclaimed Mrs Brook remonstratively.

  Mrs Merton tried again more carefully, and hit the mark, but stillwithout success.

  "It _won't_ go in!" she gasped, as, on opening her eyes a second time,she found only a few drops of blood trickling from a mere scratch in thesheep's neck; "I--I _can't_ do it!"

  At that moment the unfortunate animal suddenly freed its head from theSpartan matron's grasp. A sharp wriggle freed its tail and feet, and inanother moment it burst away from its captors and made for a shallowpond formed by Edwin Brook for a colony of household ducks.

  Roused to excessive indignation by the weakness and boastfulness of MrsMerton, Mrs Scholtz sprang to her feet and gave chase. The othersjoined. Hunger, shame, determination, disappointment, combined to givethem energy of purpose. The sheep rushed into the pond. Mrs Scholtzrecklessly followed--up to the knees--caught it by the horns, anddragged it forth.

  "Give me the knife!" she shouted.

  Mrs Merton hurriedly obeyed, and the nurse, shutting her eyes, plungedit downwards with a wild hysterical shriek.

  There was no mistake this time. Letting the animal go, she fled,red-handed, into the innermost recess of the cottage, followed by herhorrified friends.

  "Oh! what _have_ I done?" groaned Mrs Scholtz; burying her face in herhands.

  Mrs Brook and the others--all shuddering--sought to soothe her, and ina short time they regained sufficient composure to permit of theirreturning to the victim, which they found lying dead upon the ground.

  Having thus got over the terrible first step, the ladies hardenedthemselves to the subsequent processes, and these they also found moredifficult than they had anticipated. The skinning of a sheep they didnot understand. Of the cutting up they were equally ignorant, and aterrible mess they made of the poor carcass in their varied efforts. Indespair Mrs Brook suggested to Mrs Scholtz, who was now the chief andacknowledged operator, that they had better cut it up without skinning,and singe off the wool and skin together; but on attempting this MrsScholtz found that she could not find the joints, and, being possessedof no saw, could not cut the bones; whereupon Mrs Merton suggested thatshe should cut out four slices from any part that would admit of beingpenetrated by a knife, and leave the rest of the operation to beperformed by Dally on his return. This proposal was acted on. Four fatslices were cut from the flanks and carried by Gertie to the kitchen,where they were duly cooked, and afterwards eaten with more relish thanmight have been expected, considering the preliminaries to the feast.

  This was one of those difficulties that did not occur to them again. Itwas a preventable difficulty, to be avoided in future by the exercise offorethought; but there were difficulties and troubles in store againstwhich forethought was of little avail.

  While they were yet in the enjoyment of the chops which had caused themso much mental and physical pain, they were alarmed by a sudden cry fromJunkie. Looking round they saw that urchin on his knees holding on tothe side of his home-made crib, and gazing in blank amazement at thehole in the wall which served for a window. And well might he gaze, forhe saw the painted face of a black savage looking in at that window!

  On beholding him Mrs Merton uttered a scream and Mrs Brook anexclamation. Mrs Scholtz and Gertie seemed bereft of power to move orcry.

  Perhaps the Kafir took this for the British mode of welcoming astranger. At all events, he left the window and entered by the door.Being quite naked, with the exception of the partial covering affordedby a leopard-skin robe, his appearance was naturally alarming to femaleswho had never before seen a native of South Africa in his war-paint.They remained perfectly still, however, and quite silent, while he wentthrough the cottage appropriating whatever things took his fancy. Hewas the native whom we have already introduced as having been met byGeorge Dally, though of course the Brook household were not aware ofthis.

  A few other savages entered the cottage soon after, and were about tofollow the example of their chief and help themselves, but he sternlyordered them to quit, and they submissively obeyed.

  When he had gone out, without having condescended to notice any of thehousehold, Master Junkie gave vent to a long-suspended howl, and claimedthe undivided attention of Mrs Scholtz, whose touching blandishmentsutterly failed in quieting him. The good nurse was unexpectedly aided,however, by the savage chief, who on repassing the window, looked in andmade his black face supernaturally hideous by glaring at the refractorychild. Junkie was petrified on the spot, and remained "good" tillforgetfulness and sleep overpowered him.

  Meanwhile Mrs Merton swooned into a chair--or appeared to do so--andMrs Brook, recovering from her first alarm, went out with Gertie to seewhat the black marauders were about.

  They were just in time to see the last tail of their small flock ofsheep, and their still smaller herd of cattle, disappear into thejungl
e, driven by apparently a score of black, lithe, and naked devils,so ugly and unearthly did the Kafirs seem on this their first visit tothe unfortunate settlers.

  It was a peculiarly bitter trial to the Brooks, for the herd and flockjust referred to had been acquired, after much bargaining, from a Dutchfarmer only a few days before, and Edwin Brook was rather proud of hisacquisition, seeing that few if any of the settlers had at that timebecome possessors of live stock to any great extent. It was, however, asalutary lesson, and the master of Mount Hope--so he had named hislocation--never again left his wife and family unguarded for a singlehour during these first years of the infant colony.