The War of the Axe; Or, Adventures in South Africa
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broughtthem to a green savannah, plentifully intersected by the spoor ofcattle; which showed Frank Jamieson that they were not any greatdistance from the kraal. Another half-hour's "heel and toe," and theparty came in sight of a cluster of ant-hills dotting a grassy slopeleading down to a small river, beyond which lay the kraal.
But it was not the sight of the native village that drew forth anexclamation of astonished delight from Frank Jamieson's lips!
No, indeed! He scarcely noticed the bee-hive-shaped huts, for his eagereyes were fixed upon a couple of large bullock-waggons outspanned on thebanks of the river.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
THE LAST.
The bullock-waggons which had attracted Frank Jamieson's attention, whenapproaching the kraal, belonged to a certain Mr Abraham Shipp, who wasengaged in the adventurous and not unprofitable occupation of tradingwith the natives in the interior of South Africa, bartering a greatvariety of British hard goods--principally of "Brummagem" manufacture--for elephants' tusks, valuable skins and horns, and ostrich feathers.Mr Shipp, after many months' sojourn amongst the up-country tribes, hadcome down south, and was now hastening on to Natal, where he hoped todispose of the ivory, skins, and plumes that he had collected, to someof the British and Dutch traders, who had branch houses in thefast-rising town of D'Urban, or else make arrangements to ship them offto Cape Town in one of the small coasting vessels plying regularly (moreor less!) between Port Natal and Table Bay.
But apart from his desire to "trade," Abraham Shipp had another and moreimportant reason for wishing to reach D'Urban as quickly as possible.
He had with him a sick companion, a young man of four--and--twenty,Oliver Maurice by name. Young Maurice was an Oxford man of good familyand fortune, but having "gone the pace" whilst at college, and plungedinto the dubious pleasure of what Captain Costigan was wont to call"poloit societee" with rather too much enthusiasm when reading for thebar, he had damaged his fortune and lost all taste for what is termed"life," and so came out to South Africa to seek enjoyment amidst "freshwoods and pastures new." Meeting with Abraham Shipp, Maurice hadarranged to accompany him on his trading expedition, but whilst upcountry far north of the Gareep River, he had been seized with sickness,and now it was only too evident that his days were numbered. Hesuffered no pain, but lay all day in one of the waggons in a state ofapathy. Still Mr Shipp clung to the hope that if Oliver Maurice couldonly be placed under a doctor's care he might "pull round."
Shipp, though somewhat brusque-mannered and rough-tongued, was a rightgood-hearted fellow, and when he heard Frank's story he at once proposedthat they should join company.
"Look you now, my lad," cried he, slapping Frank's shoulder with a handhalf as big as a fair-sized leg of mutton, "just you give up your madidea of tramping to Cradock, and make up your mind to come with me.Your chum can share the waggon with poor Noll Maurice; it's plenty bigenough for both, and they'll cheer one another up; and I've got a sparenag--rather a rum 'un, but I can see _you_ won't mind that!--which youcan ride. I'll find you in meat, baccy, and grog, and rig you out infresh togs into the bargain. We inspan at daybreak to-morrow, and Ihope to be at D'Urban by Tuesday week. Come now, what d'ye say?"
We need hardly add that Frank accepted this generous offer withouthesitation.
Early next morning Shipp's waggons were got on the move, and havingtaken a friendly leave of Ntlororo--upon whom Frank bestowedWaishlahla's gun and ammunition--the party left the kraal en route forNatal.
Oliver Maurice seemed very pleased to have Tom as his companion, andbefore they had known one another four-and-twenty hours they were onfriendly terms.
Maurice evidently felt a relief in having somebody with him in whom hecould confide, and he gave Tom a brief sketch of his short, but misspentlife.
"If I had only been a poor man I might have done better," said he oneevening--the day before they reached D'Urban. "But it is a true sayingthat money unfairly come by brings--"
"Unfairly come by!" ejaculated Tom. "You surely don't mean that you_stole_ it?"
"Not exactly, my dear fellow," replied the sick man, with just the ghostof a laugh. "But nevertheless, though _legally_ mine, the best part ofmy fortune should by rights have gone to another man. My father had adistant relative--a queer, crochety old fellow whom he had never seenand never wished to see--and this distant relative had an only son, alieutenant in the royal navy, who unfortunately--"
"Why!" interrupted Tom, a sudden light breaking in upon him, "you don'tmean Weston?"
"Weston was the name of my father's relative; and his son was dismissedthe service for striking his superior officer. Do you know anythingabout him?"
"I should think I did!" was Tom's reply; "why, my dear chap, Weston ismy father's partner, and Frank Jamieson's brother-in-law." Andthereupon he proceeded to give Maurice a full account of Mr Weston'shistory.
"I am glad to have the opportunity of making a restitution of thisproperty," said Maurice when Tom finished. "Ask Shipp to give you somepaper, and this very evening I'll draw up a will in Weston's favour,which, if I live to reach D'Urban, I will have put into regular legaljargon. I shall leave him every penny--no, I sha'n't though," he addedwith a faint smile; "I owe you something, Tom, and as I see that youfeel a tender interest in Miss Gracie Weston I shall leave her a shareof the property."
Poor Maurice was as good as his word; he reached D'Urban just in time todraw up a formal will, which was duly attested by the residentmagistrate, leaving his fortune to Mr Weston, with the exception of3000 pounds, which he settled on Miss Grace Weston. Two days later hebreathed his last, and after his funeral Frank Jamieson and Tom Flinderstook leave of Mr Shipp and embarked on board the _Mary Anne_ cutter,bound for Table Bay, where they landed after a rough passage of a week'sduration.
Our task is ended; but before parting we must ask our readers toaccompany us once again to Ralfontein, and to imagine that ten yearshave elapsed since our hero and his friend escaped from the Caffres.
Quite a large village has sprung up on the plateau in rear of the oldhomestead; a village in which may be counted four substantial houses,"standing in their own grounds," and one tiny wooden church.
On the fertile plains that surround the plateau hundreds of splendidcattle are grazing, whilst the meadows and inclosures nearer home areenlivened by young horses sufficient in number to furnish remounts forany light cavalry corps in the service.
The village is inhabited by the employes of "Jamieson, Flinders, andWeston," the largest and most successful horse-breeders and farmers inthe colony; and in the four substantial houses dwell the families ofMessieurs Tom Flinders, Frank Jamieson, George Maurice Weston, andRichard (commonly called Dick) Jamieson; the little church is "_served_"by the Reverend James Jamieson.
Major and Mrs Flinders reside in the old house with Mr Weston and hiswife.
And now let us lay down our pen, saying: "God save all this fayrecompagnie!"
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The End.