companions wereto travel.
Under each cart was slung a strong "witte els" [a soft, tough wood] box,containing axes, hammers, saws, and other tools, a supply of nails andscrews, straps and buckles, a small coil of "half-inch," and some stoutcord and twine; so that in the event of a break-down, repairs might beexecuted on the spot Major Flinders and his faithful henchman PatrickKeown had travelled too much in South Africa to think of starting on along journey without being prepared for emergencies.
As the crow flies, the distance from Mossel Bay to Ralfontein was rathermore than one hundred and eighty miles, but by road it was nearer twohundred and fifty. The journey there was to be got over as rapidly aspossible without unduly pressing the teams, and there were to be nounnecessary stoppages by the way. The return journey would be a muchmore leisurely affair, for it was the Major's intention to ride fromRalfontein to Rondebosch, a distance of at least three hundred and fiftymiles (instead of returning to Mossel Bay, and from thence by sea toCape Town), and to take his own time on the road, so as to bring homehis equine purchases in good condition.
For the first two or three days after leaving Mossel Bay our travellershad an easy time and were not called upon to rough it in the smallestdegree. The road they followed--one of the best in the colony--ledthrough a beautiful fertile district, studded with prosperous-lookingfarm-houses around which vineyards and orange groves flourished inwonderful luxuriance. At these farms they were lodged and entertainedwith a hospitality worthy of the patriarchal ages, so that, as yet,there was no "camping out."
Soon, however, the country presented a wilder, but no less beautifulaspect, the road became a mere track, and our friends found themselvesjourneying across tracts of rough, uncultivated land, through woodedvalleys and steep rocky defiles, aglow with the brilliant crimson andamber blossoms of the aloe; here for miles they did not meet a humancreature, or see a house of any description, and the silence of thesevast solitudes grew almost oppressive.
On the evening of the fourth day they arrived at a romantic spotfive-and-twenty miles from any civilised habitation--the nearest being aGerman mission station at Ryk's Drift--and here the Major decided tooutspan, beneath the shade of a fine tope of trees, near to a "donga,"or dry watercourse. It was a most suitable halting-place! A tiny"spruit," or streamlet, trickled amidst the reeds and boulders that layall along the "donga," and crossing the track close by the "bivouac,"formed a shallow, but clear pool, at the foot of a grassy eminence,which was topped by a thicket of silver trees, aloes, and floweringshrubs.
On every side the various tribes of the vegetable kingdom throveluxuriously, perfuming the air; whilst in the distance the foliage andcoppice presented a thousand lively and variegated tints most pleasingto the eye.
The mules having been knee-haltered and turned out to graze, undercharge of the Hottentot, Black William, the Major and his companions setto work to light a fire and put the camp-kettle on to boil, and beforelong they were discussing some excellent broiled venison and ship'sbiscuit, washed down by copious draughts of black coffee.
"This is what I call uncommonly jolly!" exclaimed Tom as they sat roundthe camp fire after supper; "ever so much better than putting up at afarm-house."
"But how will you like taking your turn of `sentry-go' to-night, MasterTom?" asked Patrick Keown.
"Ah, to be sure!" put in the Major. "Two hours at a stretch, you know,Tom; and we shall expect you to be on the `_qui-vive_;' no sleeping onyour post, young man!"
"No fear of that, father," retorted the boy with a good-humoured laugh."But I say, do you really think there's any likelihood of our beingattacked?"
"Well, it is within the bounds of possibility that some wild beast mighttake a fancy to one of the mules, or a roving Bushman or Hottentot toour rifles," was his father's reply; "so it will be best to keep anight-watch."
"I suppose there are no lions in these parts?" inquired George Weston.
"I should think not, George," answered Major Flinders. "There is nodoubt that they, and many other savage beasts, have retreated before theprogress of European colonisation, and are now very rarely to be seen,except further north and east. Still they are not extinct, even in thisdistrict."
"Plenty lion in Bosjesman's country," observed Black William; "an' deyterrible savage dere too! Eat up poor black mans, like de silver jackaleat missis' chickens; but dey seldom touch de white mans. Tink de blackmoch nicer."
"Find them more _gamey_, I presume," was Mr Weston's sotto voce remark.
"I have heard several curious instances of the unwillingness of lions toattack a white man, especially if he shows a bold front," said theMajor, refilling his pipe; "and I will relate one that I can vouch for.During the expedition against the Fitcani tribe in '28, I had attachedto my troop as volunteers two Cape Dutchmen--Hendrik and Gert Eoos.You'll recollect them, Patrick?"
"Shure I do, sorr," replied the ex-rifleman. "Hendrik Eoos saved meloife at Schepers Drift, but I nearly broke me heart thrying to kape himclane! He and his brother were the bravest and dhirtiest men I ivercame across!"
"Well," continued the Major after one or two draws at his long Dutchpipe, "the brothers Roos were renowned as mighty hunters, and it wassaid that they had killed upwards of thirty lions in their time, to saynothing of other big game. But you know that `the pitcher that goes toooften to the well runs a good chance of getting smashed,' and MasterHendrik Roos on one occasion went very near proving the truth of the oldproverb. He was hunting alone in the wilds when suddenly he foundhimself face to face with an enormous lion, who, so far from retiringbefore the white man, seemed determined to dispute with him the right ofway. Hendrik dismounted, threw his reins over his arm, and, waitinguntil the lion was within twenty paces and couched and in the act ofspringing, took careful aim at his forehead, but the moment he pressedthe trigger his horse started, the reins broke, and, worse than all, hisbullet missed its mark!
"The lion bounded forward, and at a few paces' distance confronted theintrepid hunter, who now stood defenceless--his `roer' [smooth-bore gunfor big game] empty, his horse fled; but he showed no sign of fear.
"Man and beast stared hard at each other for some little time, and atlength the latter slowly retired backwards, whereupon Hendrik began toreload his gun. At this movement the lion growled and came forwardagain. The hunter stood stock-still, motionless as a statue, and againthe lion retired. Once more Hendrik attempted to ram home his bullet,and once more his formidable adversary advanced, growling ominously.Hendrik fixed his eyes upon him, and the lion seemed confused--haltedfor a moment, and stood lashing his flanks with his tail, growling allthe while; then of a sudden, unable to face any longer the stern gaze ofthe man, the savage beast turned about and fairly took to his heels; andso Hendrik Roos was saved."
"Well, he _was_ a plucky chap!" exclaimed Tom. "I wouldn't have stoodin his shoes for something!"
"You see that this Dutch hunter possessed an intimate knowledge of thenature of the animal he was pitted against; and knowledge is power,"observed Mr Weston. "But, talking of wild animals, I remember that itwas not very far from Mossel Bay that I fell in, for the first and lasttime in my life, with a wild elephant. It was in '16, just before I`shipped the swab,' and I was then acting third `luff' of the _Phaeton_.We had been on the Cape station a few months, and our skipper had beenordered round to the Knysna to make a report as to the feasibility offorming a government ship-building establishment on the banks of theriver.
"Whilst there I went out duck-shooting with the purser, who had thereputation of being a thorough sportsman and an excellent shot. We wentsome miles up country, and I soon found that my shipmate, though acapital shooter, was a precious bad hitter; and got through a largeamount of ammunition in a very short time with no appreciable results.
"Well, after blazing away half the day without bagging a single bird, wecame to a large pool of water surrounded with very high grass (some ofit quite ten feet in height) and abounding with wild ducks and geese.
"`Now's our c
hance, Wraggles!' I exclaimed, bringing my fowling-pieceto the shoulder. `Let fly into the middle of them!'
"Bang! bang! went our guns, and at least one duck fell a victim to ourunerring aim.
"But ere we could secure the butchered birds the welkin rang with anawful roar, and the whole pool was in a state of commotion. The nextmoment an enormous elephant rushed from out the grass, trumpeting loudlyand striking the grass with his trunk.
"Neither the purser nor I had ever seen a wild elephant before, and wehad no wish for a nearer inspection; so, leaving our slaughtered ducksto their fate, we took to our heels and never stopped until we
The War of the Axe; Or, Adventures in South Africa Page 7