CHAPTER EIGHT.
HOW NATURE WAS STRONGER THAN TRAINING.
Days and days of steady travel, and the slowly gained miles mounted uptill they had journeyed far into the interior. Mr Rogers, yielding tothe importunities of his boys, had several times over been ready to cometo a halt; but the Zulu still pointed forward, and feeling that theremust be much truth in his declarations regarding the game country onahead, he was allowed to act as guide.
It was a long journey, but though they did not have much sport, it wasnot monotonous, for Mr Rogers was a good naturalist, and eager tocollect everything curious in beetle, butterfly, and bird, so that allhands were pretty busy from dawn to dark. Coffee and Chicory, afterthey had been taught not to pull off the feathers, became very clever atskinning birds, some of which had been denizens of the woods, some ofthe lagoons and marshes they had passed, and which were shot atdaybreak, or else after sunset, from amongst the great beds of reeds.Then if they were ducks, the bodies became occupants of the great pot;if they were not considered eatable they fell to the share of the dogs.
That great iron pot, which was always suspended from three poles overevery fire that was made, became an institution. The idea was takenfrom a hint given by a hunting-party, one of the gentlemen forming ittelling Mr Rogers that, upon returning weary and exhausted to camp,there was nothing so restorative us good rich soup. Consequently,whenever a buck was shot, great pieces of its flesh were placed in thepot, and allowed to stew till all their goodness was gone, when theblacks considered them a delicacy, the rich soup being the portion ofthe hunting-party.
Game was scarce, but they got a sufficiency of either small bok or birdsto supply their wants; and, whether it was the constant change, thefresh air, the rich meat essence which Dick partook of with avidity, orwhether it was a combination of the effect of all these, the change inthe boy was magical. He could take a long ride now without feelingweary, and wanting in appetite; he was ready to buckle to and help whenthe waggon was stuck, literally putting his shoulder to the wheel with awill, and in place of hanging back, he was now the first to spy outgame, and set off in chase, making Jack quite envious by coming back intriumph with a couple of springbok hanging from his saddle-bows, bothhaving had to succumb to his rifle.
But this was not to be borne; and Jack at once took Chicory into hisconfidence.
"I must shoot a springbok, Chick," he said. "Dick has shot two."
"Boss Jack shoot springbok to-morrow," said the boy, decisively; andsoon after daybreak roused his young master, and pointed out across theplain towards the rising sun.
"Bok," he said laconically; and while Jack was giving a finishing touchor two to his dress, the boy ran off, and began to saddle Stockings,having the little horse ready by the time Jack was prepared to mount.
The others were not awake, saving the Zulu and Dick, who had the morningwatch; so Jack got off unquestioned, and rode away in the directionpointed out by Chicory, whose dark eyes made out the presence of thelittle bok long before they could be seen by his young master, who beganto think that he had been deceived, and expressed his doubts upon thepoint.
But Chicory smiled, and laid his hand upon Jack's arm, pointing to wheresome shadow shapes of animals could be seen through the faint misthanging over a low clump of hillocks; and with a cry of joy the boypressed his horse's sides, and went off at a swinging canter, withoutdiscomposing Chicory in the least, for the boy held on to a strap at thepummel of the saddle as before, and there being no ant-bear hole in theway, or, the horse having learned better through his fall, they rapidlyneared the little herd, which began the antics peculiar to theseanimals, till the lad was getting close up, when they began to flee at atremendous rate.
Quick as thought, Jack had sprung from his saddle, and sent a bulletafter the herd; then another, and another; but all apparently withoutresult. Then disappointed and vexed, Jack turned to Chicory as if itwas his fault. But the boy had climbed an old ant-hill, and waswatching the flying herd with his eyes shaded by his hand.
"One down--two down," he cried, sending joy through Jack's breast; for,on galloping after the herd, it was to find one bok lying dead, andanother so badly wounded that it became an easy capture.
It was with no little importance then that Jack rode back with his twobok, ready to receive the congratulations of his father, for hismanifest improvement in handling his rifle, and in hunting the bokaccording to the accepted plan.
At last their guide, after looking-on with something almost superciliousin his face at this, to him, puny style of hunting, and contentment withsuch small game as birds, springbok, and the like, announced that thenext day they would be entering upon what he termed his hunting country.
The travellers had now reached a more rugged tract of land, scored withdeep ravines, along which, at some time or another, small rivers musthave coursed, while now the narrow stony tracks were found convenientfor waggon tracks, though often enough the way was cruelly difficult,and all had to set to and clear a passage for the wheels by bodilyremoving some of the worst of the stones.
There was no hesitation or hanging back at such times, for all had toset to, even Dinny playing a pretty good part, considering that heabhorred manual labour.
Quite a change seemed to have come over the General, as Dick aptlydubbed their Zulu guide; for though he gave way in everything connectedwith the management of the waggon, and was exceedingly respectful to MrRogers, no sooner did any hunting matter come to the front, or aquestion of the best direction to take, than he seemed to take the leadas if in spite of himself.
At first Mr Rogers felt annoyed, and ready to put the man down; but ina very short time he saw that the Zulu's sole thought was for thesuccess of the expedition, and that his actions were the natural resultsof his former life; for, savage though he was, and servant to thisexpedition, he had been a prince in his own tribe, and a leader amongstthe people.
The night was coming on fast, when one day, after a long and weary trek,the heavily-laden waggon was approaching a belt of elevated forest-land,where the General had assured Mr Rogers they would find water.
It had been a toilsome day, hot and dusty, and at their midday restthere had been hardly a mouthful of herbage for the tired oxen, whilewater there was none. The contents of the two casks swinging behind thewaggon were jealously guarded for the travellers' use; but so miserabledid the cattle seem that the two boys asked their father to tap one ofthem for the oxen and horses.
"It will be but a taste a-piece," he said; "but perhaps you are right,boys."
Then the tap being set running, every ox and horse had a refreshingtaste, though it was hard work to get the pail away from each thirstymouth.
Then all through that long parching afternoon they had toiled on, withthe draught cattle growing more listless, the horses sluggish andrestless; and a general feeling of weariness seemed to have seized uponall.
The result was shown in the silence with which they progressed. Thedriver and foreloper ceased to shout and crack their whips; the Zulustrudged slowly on behind the waggon; and out of compassion for theirhorses, Mr Rogers and his sons walked beside the weary beasts.
"You are sure we shall find water at sundown?" said Dick to the General.
"Nothing is sure out in the wilds, young master," said the Zulu gravely."There should be water there. If there is not, we must trek on throughthe night, to the first river or spring."
"But will there be water there?"
"We shall be in the game country then, and I can soon find where thegame goes to drink, and can lead you there."
This was satisfactory, and they trudged on and on, with the landgradually rising, making the pull more heavy for the oxen, whose tongueswere lolling out, and whose efforts at last became so painful that MrRogers at once accepted his sons' proposal, which was that the horsesshould help.
A halt was called, and great stones were placed beneath the wheels tomake sure that there should be no running backwards on the part of thewaggon, and then
the tethering ropes were fastened to the horses'saddles; the Zulus and the boys took their head; the word was given tostart; the ropes that had been secured to different parts of the waggontightened; and though the horses could not pull as if they were properlyharnessed, the impulse they gave relieved the weary oxen, and after halfan hour's toilsome drag, the waggon was drawn to the top of the incline,and the travellers had the pleasure of seeing that a tolerably level waylay before them.
But there was no sign of water, and Mr Rogers looked serious as heswept the dimly seen country before him with his glass.
"Had we not better outspan here?" he said, "and let the oxen rest. Wecould start again at daybreak."
But the General shook his head.
"No, boss," he replied. "Let us go on. We may find water yet."
Mr Rogers gave way, and in a listless, weary fashion the heavy waggonwas dragged on.
"Oh, I am so tired," cried Jack; "and I'd give anything to be able towalk right into a big pond and drink, and soak myself outside. My skinfeels as if it was cracking."
"I'm very tired, too," said Dick; "but not so tired as I thought Ishould be. Why I must have walked twenty miles to-day. I wonderwhether that means that I am growing stronger."
"You need not wonder," said Mr Rogers, who had heard his words. "Youmay be sure, my boy. But how dark it is growing! There are the stars."
"What's the matter with the bullocks?" cried Jack suddenly. "Why,father, they're gone mad with thirst."
"Water," cried the General, pointing ahead. "They smell the water."
The sensitiveness was caught up by the horses, which, like the oxen,quickened their pace, craning with outstretched muzzles, their fineinstinct telling them that there was water on ahead, towards which theystruggled to get.
Great care was needed now lest the water should prove to be merely awell or pool, into which the bullocks would rush, muddying the water,and perhaps trampling one another to death in their efforts to reach therefreshing liquid. But strive hard as they would, it proved to beimpossible to keep the thirsty creatures back. The waggon had notproceeded so fast since they started; and the speed was growing greater,causing the great lumbering vehicle to rock and sway in a most alarmingfashion. If they had encountered a rock, however small, there must havebeen a crash. But as it happened, they came on very level ground,sloping gently towards the north.
Klipmann, the foremost ox, a great black fellow with long horns, hadproclaimed the find, and communicated the fact with a deep-mouthedbellow; and the next minute all was excitement and shouting, as thegreat waggon thundered and groaned along.
The first thing to be done was to detach the horses, which was no soonerdone than they seemed to take fright, and went off at a gallop into thegloom ahead; then, amidst the yells and shoutings of Peter and Dirk, whodanced about as if mad, efforts were made to check the oxen; but thepoor beasts were frantic with thirst, and any serious attempt to stopthem would have meant goring, trampling down, or being crushed by thewheels of the ponderous waggon.
The wild race lasted for a mile, during which every moment threatened tobe the waggon's last. The oxen lowed and trotted on, the waggoncreaked, and the loose articles rattled and banged together. Mr Rogersand his sons panted on at the sides, momentarily expecting to see it goover, and Coffee and Chicory, who had been very slow and silent forhours, whooped and yelled and added to the excitement.
"It's all over with our trip, Jack," panted Dick. "We shall have topick up the pieces to-morrow and go back."
"Wait a bit, and let's see. Why, what's the General going to do?"
For all at once the Zulu had darted on ahead after snatching a kiri fromChicory's hand, seized the foremost bullock, old Klipmann, by the horn,and, at the risk of being impaled or trampled down, he beat the stubbornbullock over the head with the club, and treating the other, itsyoke-fellow, the same, he forced them into taking a different course,almost at right angles to that which they were pursuing.
"Stop, stop!" roared Mr Rogers. "You will upset the waggon."
But he was too late. The course of the leading oxen being changed, theothers swerved round, giving such a tug at the dissel-boom that thewaggon's wreck seemed certain. The whole team taking, as it did, adifferent course, the waggon was dragged side-wise, and for a fewseconds tottered on its two nearside, or left-hand, wheels.
It seemed as if it must go over crash--that nothing could save it; andJack uttered a cry of dismay, and warning to his brother to get out ofthe way. Then, as if by a miracle, it fell back with a heavy thud on tothe other wheels, and bumped and jolted on after the long team of oxeninto the obscurity. And then, when ruin seemed to have come completelyupon the expedition, _wish-wash_! _splish-splash_! the foaming ofwater--the crunching of wheels over stones and sand--a quick rush--andthe waggon was standing, axletree deep, in a swiftly flowing river, downwhose shelving bank it had been dragged, and in whose cool waters theoxen and horses were washing their legs, and drinking deeply withdelight.
Off to the Wilds: Being the Adventures of Two Brothers Page 8