by H. C. Adams
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
MISSION TALK--IMPENDING DANGERS--AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND--KOBO'S STORY--MAOMO'S DESIGNS--DE WALDEN'S RESOLVE--A NIGHT EXPEDITION.
Time passed on: the summer heats gradually gave way to the coolertemperature of autumn, and that too began to pass into winter, andnothing had been heard of Lavie or his guide. It had been calculatedthat it would take them fully two months to reach Cape Town; but therethey would be able to obtain horses, which would so greatly shorten thereturn journey, that ten or eleven weeks might be regarded as theprobable period of their entire absence. But March was exchanged forApril, April for May; June succeeded May, and July, June; and stillthere came no tidings of the travellers. The boys grew anxious, andmight have become seriously alarmed, if it had not been that they foundso much to interest and employ them, that they had no time for indulgingmorbid fancies.
All the four whites occupied one large hut, some five and twenty feet incircumference, and provided with mats, karosses, and all the otherfurniture of a Kaffir dwelling-house, so as to render it a verycomfortable residence. They also took all their meals together, whichwere provided at the cost of the whole tribe, and prepared for them byKobo and Gaike, the two attendants chosen for them by Chuma. But beforemany weeks had passed, they had separated, by common consent, into twopairs; De Walden and Ernest being almost continually together, and Frankand Nick Gilbert taking up with one another, as a matter of necessity.
Warley was deeply impressed by the character of the new friend he hadfound. De Walden's devoted self-surrender, his resolute anduncomplaining spirit under the most trying hardships, his cheerfulness,and even joyousness, while enduring what would have broken most men'sspirits altogether, were the very ideal of which Ernest had dreamed, butnever expected to realise.
"Did you make many converts among the Hottentots?" he asked one day. "Iremember hearing you say your mission, as a whole, had not succeeded;but I suppose you made converts here and there?"
"I cannot say I ever made one."
"Not one! And yet you were going back to them again!"
"Certainly. Why not?"
"Rather, `Why?' I should have been inclined to ask."
"Why? because God has commanded that the Gospel should be preached toall nations, and that command stands good, whether they will hear, orwhether they forbear. It is our business to do His work, and His tolook after the result."
"And you would not consider that a man's life was wasted, if he passedhis whole life as a missionary, without making one convert?"
"No more wasted than if he had made ten thousand. Look here, Ernest.You have never seen a coral island, I suppose?"
"No," said Warley; "I have read about them, but I have never seen one."
"You have read about them? Then you know that the coral insects labouron, generation after generation, under the water, raising the reefalways higher and higher, till it reaches the high-tide level at last."
"Yes, that is what I have read, certainly."
"For generations, then, upon generations, the work of the insect waswholly out of human sight. Ernest, was their work in vain? Did notthey help to build up the island as much as those whose labours could beclearly discerned?"
"You are right," said Warley. "One soweth, and another reapeth."
"Yes, and both will rejoice hereafter together; claiming, under God, thework between them. The work of the missionary--of the earlymissionary--may seem to man's eyes as nothing, but it is merely out ofman's sight. He is building up Christ's kingdom, as the coral insect,far down below, builds up the reef; and will, unknown though he be now,have equal honour hereafter with those whom the world now accounts itsgreatest benefactors."
Many such conversations as these were held between the two friends--as,notwithstanding the disparity of their years, De Walden and Ernest mightbe called--and every day the bond between them grew stronger. Togetherthey visited the Kaffir huts, and held long talks with the occupants;who were never unwilling to discourse on the subject nearest to DeWalden's heart, little as they might be inclined to hearken to histeaching. He was, however, not without hope that he had succeeded inmaking some impression. More than one man resorted secretly to him toask explanations of difficulties, which, it was plain, had been weighingon their minds; more than one woman attended the prayers, which weredaily offered to the God of the Christians in the white man's hut, inspite of Chuma's interdict Maomo heard of it, and it roused still morefiercely his jealousy and alarm. He was, as has already been intimated,partly a deceiver, and partly a dupe. He knew that many of hispretensions were simply impostures; but he did believe in the existenceof Evil Spirits, and their power to injure men. Such doctrines as thosepropounded by De Walden, must needs, he thought, be in the highestdegree distasteful to them; and they would visit the land with the mostterrible plagues, if the people fell away from the faith of theirfathers.
He continually beset Chuma, therefore, with entreaties to put down theevil, before it reached any greater height. He reminded the chief thathe had already forbidden De Walden, or the "White Lie-maker," as he waswont to call him, to teach the people his new and dangerous creed. Hiscommands had been openly disobeyed, and he must now enforce severepenalties against him, or suffer the most terrible consequences himself.Chuma listened, but made evasive replies. His own mind was in a stateof doubt on the subject. He was incensed by the Englishman's obstinaterefusals to comply with his orders, and had begun to doubt whether hereally did possess the presumed supernatural powers. If that shouldindeed be the case, he would make short work with him. At present,however, he was not convinced that this was the case, and he hadresolved to defer any action until his mind was made up.
Meanwhile Frank and Nick went out almost every day with their guns,under the tutelage of Kobo, a middle-aged, strongly built Bechuana, intowhose charge Chuma had consigned them. The missionary was jealouslywatched, not only by the chief's servants, but by those of Maomo also.He was never allowed to leave his hut, unless accompanied by at leastone man, and never to leave the village at all, except by the chief'sexpress permission, and under the escort of three armed men. But theboys were not so carefully looked after. Chuma contented himself withwarning Kobo, that if at any time they were not forthcoming, he wouldhave to pay the penalty with his own life. The boys knew this as wellas Kobo, and promised him that they would make no attempt at escape,even if a favourable opportunity should offer; and the Bechuana, strangeto say, seemed quite contented with their assurance. He went out withthem into the bush, sometimes to a considerable distance, allowing themto take their firearms, and carrying no weapon himself, but a lighthatchet, which would have been of no service to him at all, in event ofany hostile movement on their part, nor did he ever seem to entertain asuspicion that could mean treachery towards him.
"He's a good fellow, this blacky," remarked Nick one day, as they haltedunder the shade of a large oomahaama, to rest an hour or two beforereturning home from one of their shooting excursions. "He's a goodfellow, not suspicious of every word one says, or of the meaning ofevery act one does. He really has some notion of honesty. More's thewonder!"
"Yes," answered Frank; "I should like to ask him where he got it from,only I suppose he wouldn't understand one."
"Oh yes, Kobo would--understand very well," said Kobo, joining in thelads' conversation, in broken, but very intelligible English.
"Hallo, hey, what!" exclaimed both the boys, half starting up withsurprise. "What! you understand English, Kobo?" added Frank. "How inthe world did you learn it?"
"And why in the world didn't you tell us long ago that you understoodit?" subjoined Gilbert.
"Kobo keep it secret--chief not know--prophet not know," answered Kobo."Kobo tell white boys, not black man."
"Do tell us, then, Kobo," said Nick, whose interest had been keenlyawakened. "You may trust us to keep whatever we may hear to ourselves,if you desire it."
Kobo assented readily enough. It was plain that he was anxious, forso
me reason of his own, that they should learn his history, and had beenawaiting his opportunity of telling it. We shall not follow the brokenEnglish of his narrative, but relate it in our own words.
Kobo had been born and reared in the Bechuana village where he was stillliving; but when a lad of twelve or thirteen years old, had incurred thechief's displeasure for some boyish offence, and to escape thepunishment incurred by it, fled from the kraal and took refuge in avillage lying at a considerable distance from his own people. He hadnot been there many months, when the village in which he was living wasattacked by a commando, and with the usual consequences. All the maleswho had reached puberty and the elder women, were shot or cut down; thegirls and children carried off into bondage.
Kobo's fate had at first been very doubtful. He was just on the veryverge of what was considered manhood, and the sword of more than oneDutchman was raised to cut him down. But he was, luckily for himself,rather short of stature, and it was ultimately resolved that he shouldbe spared. He was taken to the southern part of the colony, and becamethe slave of a Dutch farmer residing near Oudtshoorn. Here he remainedfor several years, until he had quite grown to manhood. According tohis own statement, which it would be reasonable to receive with somedegree of caution, he was treated with the utmost injustice and crueltyby his masters--ill-fed, overworked, and kicked and cuffed without anyreason, whenever his employers chanced to be out of temper.
But there was no remedy for his wrongs. It was in vain to appeal to thelaw, which would hardly entertain his complaint at all, and would havedone nothing to protect him, even if he could have made out his case.To have offered resistance would have been the extremity of folly, as itwould only have brought down increased suffering upon him; and to haveattempted escape, would have been almost certain death. It was a longdistance to the border of the Bechuana country; and the fiercebloodhounds kept by the whites would have overtaken and torn him topieces, before he could have gone the twentieth part of the way. Therewas nothing for it but to bear it patiently.
It chanced that there was a man residing in Oudtshoorn, who was ofEuropean, but not Dutch, descent. He was believed to be an Englishman,who for some unknown reason had chosen to leave his own country. Hetook some notice of Kobo, whose appearance and manner pleased him; andgradually the Bechuana confided to him his history, the cruel hardshipshe endured, and the anxious longing which possessed him to regain hisfreedom. Andrews, as the Englishman was called, listened attentively tohis story, and then advised him to wait patiently for a few weeks more,when an opportunity he desired might present itself. Andrews was asecret agent of the English Government, and knew that an army and fleetwere soon going to be sent out to attempt the seizure of the Dutchcolony. If this should prove successful, he would be able to help Koboeffectually. The Bechuana followed his advice; and one evening, towardsthe end of December, received an unexpected visit from his Englishfriend, who was mounted on a strong Cape horse, and led another by thebridle.
"Mount, Kobo," he said, "and ride with me. Your master is too muchfrightened by the news he has just received to think about you; and evenif he did try to catch you, he couldn't."
Kobo obeyed willingly enough. They rode through the whole of thatnight, and next morning arrived at a place where fresh horses had beenprovided. Continuing their ride with hardly an hour's delay, theyreached Simon's Bay, where an English fleet had just come to anchor.Andrew's first step was to have Kobo regularly rated as his servant.When the campaign was ended by the cession of the colony, they returnedto Oudtshoorn; where Kobo's former master was still residing, but hestood too much in awe of Andrews to claim his fugitive slave again.Kobo, who had become greatly attached to his English master, continuedfor several years in his service, until in 1803 the colony was handedback to the Dutch. When it became certain that the English Governmentwould take this step, Andrews advised Kobo to leave Oudtshoorn beforethe departure of the English troops. Van Ryk, his former master, hadalways looked upon him as his lawful property, of which he had beenviolently despoiled, and would inevitably claim him as soon as the Dutchpower was again established. Kobo's affection for Andrews would haveinduced him to remain and brave the hazard of this; but the Englishmanpointed out that he would not have the power of protecting him againstVan Ryk's claim, or against any cruel usage to which he would probablysubject him, and this would be worse pain to both than their separation.Kobo accordingly was conveyed by Andrews as far as the Gariep, wherethey took leave of one another, the Englishman returning to Oudtshoorn,and Kobo rejoining his tribe.
The latter, however, had kept the true history of his past life aprofound secret from his countrymen, passing off a plausible tale oflife among the Bushmen in its place. He was afraid that Van Ryk wouldoffer the Bechuana chief a large sum for his tradition, and he knewChuma's avaricious spirit too well to believe that he would refuse it.When he heard from De Walden of the reoccupation of the Cape by theEnglish, he was instantly seized with an anxious desire to return toOudtshoorn, and would have offered himself to Lavie as his guide, if ithad not been that he dared not betray his knowledge of the Englishlanguage. He would, however, in all likelihood, soon have left theBechuana village alone, if he had not conceived a liking for the Englishprisoners, and a desire to serve them in the danger which, as he couldplainly see, was threatening them. He was well acquainted with Maomo'scruel and vindictive nature. Several persons, towards whom the wizardhad conceived a hatred, had suffered the most terrible tortures anddeath through his machinations, and towards no one had he ever felt suchbitter enmity as towards De Walden.
This feeling had been increased by the failure of his schemes, thus far,to work the missionary's ruin. He had been hoping that the drought,which often visited the country during the summer months, would give himthe desired opportunity of either obliging De Walden to comply withChuma's entreaties to bring down rain by his incantations, or ofprovoking the chief's wrath to the uttermost by his refusal. But thesummer, to his infinite vexation, had been extraordinarily cool andgenial, showers falling at short intervals of one another; and causingabundance of grass and water. What was worse, he could see that Chumaattributed this exceptional season to De Walden's residence in thevillage. He was farther than ever therefore from accomplishing hisobject.
But he was not a man to be balked of his purpose; and Kobo, who hadwatched him narrowly, felt certain that he had some scheme on foot whichwould achieve the object on which his heart was set. He had been absentfor two or three days in the previous week, and when he returned therewas a look of triumphant malice in his face, which he tried in vain tohide. The only well-grounded hope they could have of escaping hismalicious designs lay in immediate flight. Chuma, as yet, wasfavourably disposed, and had taken no steps which would render flightimpossible. But this would not last long; and De Walden must take timeby the forelock, or it would certainly be too late.
Such was the substance of what Kobo imparted to the boys, and which theymade a point of laying before Mr De Walden immediately after his returnto their village.
The missionary listened attentively, and asked several questions as toKobo's sources of information, and the details of the plan of escape hehad suggested; but when these had been answered he refused to availhimself of the offer.
"I have little doubt," he said, "that Kobo in the main is right, if notin every particular, but it is my duty to remain here, and remain Imust, whatever may ensue. For the first time since my arrival inAfrica, I have a real, well-grounded hope of gaining a considerable bodyof converts to our faith. What will these think of me? What hope can Ihave of their remaining true to the creed they have half adopted, if Imyself am wanting to it? I am in God's hands, and I trust all to Him.But you, my dear lads--it is not _your_ duty to stay here, and encounterthis danger. You, indeed, Ernest--"
"Do you think _I_ could leave you?" interposed Warley reproachfully.
"I will not ask you to do so," answered the missionary, claspingErnest's hands as he spoke; "but you two--
"
"We too will not leave you," broke in Frank. "I know I speak for Nickas well as myself. We will all stay and endure whatever may chancetogether. I will tell Kobo so forthwith."
He sought out the Bechuana accordingly, and acquainted him with theresolution to which all the party had come, adding however, that theywould all keep Kobo's secret most inviolably, and if any occasion shouldarrive when his services might be required for an attempt of the kindsuggested by him, they would at once apply to him to help them.
"Meanwhile," he said, "Kobo, let us have plenty to employ our time andthoughts. It will never do for us to sit down and brood over ourtroubles; we should go mad, I expect. Look here, didn't you tell usthat the spoor of some elephants had been seen yesterday or thismorning, at a short distance from this?"
"Great many elephant in bush," said Kobo; "six, seven, big bulls, twentycows, not three miles away. Not go away to-day, perhaps not to-morrow."
"Do you hear that, Nick?" said Wilmore. "We had better set out thefirst thing in the morning, hadn't we, and try to get a shot at one?"
"White boys see them to-night, if they like," said Kobo. "See here.Kobo love white boys because they English. He wait here till they readyto run away. Then he run with them. Meanwhile they shoot, hunt, fish.Chuma not suspect they mean to run."
"All right, Kobo," said Nick. "You're a brick, if you know what thatmeans, though you have been baked pretty black in the kiln. Well, letus set off at once. Where do you propose that we should pass thenight?"
"Bavian's Pool, Master Nick; three miles from here--beautiful pool,sweet water, steep rock overhang it, too steep for beasts to climb, nottoo steep for us. There we sleep among bushes; animals come down todrink by moonlight; buffalo, gnu, zebra, giraffe, lion, rhinoceros, allsorts of beasts--elephant come too--"
"And we can shoot at them from the rock, hey?" interposed Nick.
"No, not shoot from rock. Elephant not come near enough, and light bad;but we track them when they leave waterside, and get good shot inmorning."
"All right, Kobo. How soon ought we to set out?"
"Three hours past noon, now. Get to pool at five. We start in an hour,say."
"In an hour; very good. Let us go and say good-bye to Mr De Walden andErnest, Frank, and get the guns."
"Done with you," said Frank. "Shall we ask Ernest to come with us? Wehave had very little of his company for a long time past, and I think hewould enjoy this. You know how anxious he always was to come upon aherd of elephants, all the time when we were travelling through thecountry where they are said sometimes to be found. He is a good fellow,and I don't like to lose sight of him so entirely."
"I agree with you, that he is a good fellow," said Nick,--"a deal betterfellow, for the matter of that, than I am. But I am afraid there is notmuch chance of his making one of our party. There has been a change inhim ever since that escape of his from the big snake; and since he hasfallen in with Mr De Walden, he has been so taken up with him that hecan think of nothing else. But we can ask him, certainly."
But on reaching the hut they perceived at once that it would be no useto make any such suggestion--for the present, at all events. The twofriends were on the point of repairing to the house of one of theirconverts, who had sent to them a message, entreating their immediatepresence. One of the calamities, which the Bechuanas dreaded beyond allothers, had just befallen him. It had been known for some time past,that a disease, nearly resembling that which has visited Europeancountries of late years, was raging among the herds belonging toneighbouring tribes, and more particularly the Basutos. It was regardedwith the utmost terror by all the races inhabiting Southern Africa, whomit deprived not only of all their wealth, but of their very means ofsubsistence. They were wholly unacquainted with any means of dealingeffectually with it; indeed, for the most part, they attributed itentirely to the agency of malignant Spirits; and its appearancegenerally threw them entirely into the hands of the pretended prophets.In the present instance they had felt tolerably secure that it would notvisit the Bechuana village, the summer having been exceptionallyhealthy. But that morning, two oxen had suddenly been seized with thesymptoms which were only too well-known. The owner, who had unboundedfaith in the missionary's powers, had sent at once to him entreating hishelp; and he and Warley were just setting out to render what assistanceit might be possible to give.
"Poor beggars!" exclaimed Nick. "It will be a bad job for them if theydo lose their cattle, seeing that is pretty well all they have. Shallyou be able to do anything for them, sir?"
"I am afraid very little," said the elder man. "I have fallen in withthe disease more than once during my residence in this country, and havehardly ever known a case of cure, when it has once fairly taken hold ofan animal But we will do our best. Good night, lads I hope you may havea pleasant day's sport. If it hadn't been for this, I should have likedErnest to have gone with you. As it is, I shall want his help."