by G. A. Henty
“I will get down and watch,” Dick said, and he scrambled down to the water’s edge.
Two minutes later he shouted up,—
“It has not risen at all since I came here!” The teamsters had taken their station on the outside waggons, and continued to talk and shout to the oxen, exhorting these to be patient and quiet, as if the animals were capable of understanding every word they said.
For three hours there was no change in the situation. Then all thought that there was a slight decrease in the height of the torrent of water pouring from the defile, and half an hour later a slight but distinct subsidence in the level of the water could be perceived. In another hour it had fallen a foot, and after that the fall was rapid and steady. The deep roar caused by the rushing torrent and the rumbling of the huge boulders and rocks swept along in the narrow defile, gradually subsided, and soon the bullocks were again standing on their feet.
The natives set to work to wash away the thick sediment which the flood had left on the floor of the waggons, and before nightfall the goods were all repacked. But few signs of the recent flood now remained in the valley. A stream still rushed through the centre. Trunks and branches of trees lay here and there, as the water had left them, and the bodies of some twenty or thirty natives were lying amongst the rocks. In some places shallow pools remained; in others were sheets of glistening mud.
“We shall have no more trouble with the natives,” Mr Harvey said; “the fighting-men of that tribe must have been nearly annihilated.”
“Do you think that those below were caught, as well as those above?”
“Certainly,” Mr Harvey answered; “the water went down with the speed of a race-horse; they had only a few minutes’ start, and would have been overtaken before they could have even gained the lower bed of the gorge. We can journey on peacefully now. We have been fortunate indeed; we have only lost one man, and the three who were hit with stones are all likely to do well. We have not lost a single bullock, nor a bale of goods.”
“We shall have hard work to get the waggons up that place where the natives made the stand tomorrow.”
“It is quite likely,” Mr Harvey said, “that the obstacle there no longer exists. A flood like that of today would carry away anything. Look at those great blocks, some of which must weigh more than a hundred tons. Likely enough some of them have formed part of that great pile. I have already sent Tony and Blacking up the defile to see how the flood has left it, and in an hour they will be back to report.”
The hunters on returning brought the good news that the great block had been removed, and so far as they had explored no other of any importance had been found. They said indeed that the defile was now more open than either of the two gorges they had already passed through.
This was very satisfactory, for all had had enough of lifting and heaving rocks. Their hands were all cut and wounded, and every limb ached with the strains which they had undergone.
The next morning at daybreak the caravan started. The hunters’ report of the state of the roads was fairly borne out, and although some difficulties were met with it was unnecessary to unyoke the oxen, although of course many boulders had to be cleared away to allow them to pass. On emerging at the upper end of the defile they found they were in a valley which opened out to a great width, and rose in gradual slopes at its head to the crest of the hills. As the only egress at the lower end was by the defile, it was clear that the whole rainfall must make its way by this exit, which fully accounted for the tremendous torrent they had witnessed.
Two days’ travelling brought them to the foot of the slopes on the other side of the range of hills, and they were soon engaged in carrying on a considerable trade with the natives there.
For another three months they travelled slowly through the country, by the end of which time they had disposed of all their goods, and the waggons were filled to the tilts with skins and bales of ostrich feathers.
They now turned their faces to the south. After journeying for a fortnight they perceived one day, far across the country, the white tilts of another caravan. The three whites at once started at full gallop, eager to hear news of what had taken place in the colony during their absence. As they neared the caravan two white men rode out to meet them; both were known to Mr Harvey, and hearty greetings were exchanged.
The new-comers were halting for the day, and Mr Harvey and the boys were soon seated in tents, with three bottles of beer in front of them, a luxury which they heartily enjoyed, having been many months without tasting it.
“And now what is the news in the colony?” Mr Harvey asked, after having replied to their questions as to the state of trade, and the route which they had followed, as the new-comers would of course take another line, so as not to pass over the same ground.
“Things don’t look well,” they answered; “the Boers are growing so insolent that there is no getting on with them. Several English have been shot down in various places, without the smallest cause. They openly declare their intention of recovering their independence. The English stores are for the most part tabooed, and things altogether look very threatening. There is a mere handful of British troops in the Transvaal, and only a regiment or so in Natal. Those wretched duffers at home hurried every soldier out of the country the instant the fighting was over, and if the Boers really mean business we shall have no end of trouble. You see, we have crushed their two enemies, the Zulus and Secoceni, and now that we have done the work for them they want to get rid of us.”
“I thought we should have trouble with them,” Mr Harvey said; “they are an obstinate, pig-headed race; they never would pay taxes to their own government; they would not even turn out and fight when Secoceni threatened to overrun the country; and now, as likely as not, they will fight desperately for the independence they were glad enough to relinquish in the hour of danger. What you tell me is a nuisance. I had originally intended to go down through Kimberley to Port Elizabeth; but I changed my mind and decided to go back again through the Transvaal, and I have come so far to the east that I do not like to change my plans again. However, I don’t suppose we shall be interfered with. They can’t very well quarrel with us, if we won’t quarrel with them.”
“Perhaps not,” the trader said; “but I tell you I have found it precious difficult to keep my temper several times. The insolence and swagger of those fellows is amazing.”
The two caravans halted near each other for the day, and a pleasant evening was spent. The next morning each resumed its way.
No further adventure was met with until the Limpopo was reached; this was crossed on rafts. The natives who had accompanied them were now paid off, receiving a handsome present each, in addition to the sum agreed upon, and the caravan proceeded on its way.
At the first Dutch village at which they arrived, a week after leaving the Limpopo, they had evidence of a change of demeanour in the Boers. As they passed through the streets a group of five or six men were standing at the door of a store; one of them in a loud and insolent voice made a remark to the others, that before long they would not have any of these English dogs going through their country—a remark which was received with boisterous approval by the others. Mr Harvey’s face flushed, and he was on the point of reining in his horse, and riding up to chastise the insolent Boer, but the thought of the distance of country yet before him checked him. It was clearly the intention of the man to force a quarrel, and in this the English were sure to get the disadvantage finally. He therefore rode quietly on with the insolent laughter of the Dutchmen ringing in his ears. The lads were equally indignant, and it was only the example of Mr Harvey which had restrained them.
“Things have come to a pretty pass,” Mr Harvey said, as he dismounted, “that Englishmen should be openly insulted in this way. However, I suppose it will not do to resent it, for these scoundrels would clearly be only too glad of an excuse to shoot us down; but if this sort of thing is going on at every village we pass through, we shall have hard work in keeping
our tempers until we are fairly out of the Transvaal. I pity our countrymen who have bought land or setup stores in this country. I was never fond of the Boers, though I am willing to allow that they are a splendid set of men, and that they are magnificent riders and good shots. I question if we shall ever retain them against their will. Of course if we had a government which worked with energy and decision it would be a different matter altogether. There are a considerable number of English and Scotch settlers already here, and the natives would rise against the Dutch to a man if called upon to do so; and if a couple of dozen of their ringleaders were promptly seized and shot, there would be an end to the whole matter. But I know what it will be: the natives will not be encouraged or even allowed to rise, our soldiers, who can hardly hit a haystack at a hundred yards, will be shot down at a distance by the Boers, and, likely enough, we shall meet with a serious disaster, and then the English government will get frightened and make any terms these fellows demand.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A Fight with the Boers
For some time they continued their journey, meeting everywhere with the grossest incivility on the part of the Boers; in many places they were refused water at the farms, and warned at once off the land, and Mr Harvey had the greatest difficulty in keeping his own temper and restraining the boys from resenting the language of the Boers.
One day, as they were riding along, two Boers on horseback halted on an eminence near the road and addressed taunting remarks to them; they made no answer, but continued their way. They had not gone a hundred yards when one of the Boers deliberately took aim and fired at them; the ball passed between Dick and Mr Harvey and struck one of the natives walking just in front of them, killing him upon the spot. This was too much. Mr Harvey and the lads wheeled their horses, unslung their rifles, and fired at the Boers, who were galloping away. One of them at once dropped from his saddle, shot through the head; the other reeled, but, retaining his seat, galloped off at full speed.
“This is a bad business, boys,” Mr Harvey said; “we could not help it, but it will bring trouble upon us. Now let us branch off from the road we are following, and make for Leydenberg; we are within three days’ march of that place. There is an English garrison there, and justice will be done. If we push on straight for Standerton, we shall be overtaken and probably killed before we get there.”
The bullocks’ heads were turned towards the southeast, and at the best pace the teams were driven across the country. Several large native kraals were passed in the course of the day, and after a march of nearly double the ordinary length the caravan halted for the night on the banks of a stream. A sharp watch was kept all night, but nothing particular happened.
Just as they were about to inspan the oxen in the morning some fifteen or twenty men were seen approaching at a gallop. The oxen were at once driven again to the laager, and every man seized his arms. The Dutchmen halted at a distance of a hundred yards, and then three of them rode up to the caravan.
“What do you want?” Mr Harvey said, advancing on foot in front of the waggons, while the lads and the three hunters stood, rifles in hand, behind them.
“We summon you to surrender,” the Boers said; “you have murdered Mr Van Burer and wounded Mr Schlessihoff.”
“We have done nothing of the sort,” Mr Harvey answered. “We were going quietly along the road when those men insulted us; we passed on without answering. After we had gone a hundred yards they fired at us, narrowly missed me, and killed one of my men. We fired back, and with the result you have named. We are quite ready to answer for our conduct, and when we get to Leydenberg we shall at once deliver ourselves up to the magistrate, and report what has occurred, and you can then bring any charge you want to make against us.”
“You will never get to Leydenberg,” the Boers said scoffingly; “we are your magistrates and judges; we want no English law here. Once for all, will you surrender?”
“We certainly will not,” Mr Harvey replied, “and if you molest us it will be at your peril.”
Without another word the Boers turned their horses’ heads and rode back to their comrades; upon their joining them the whole rode some little distance to the rear, and then divided, half turning to the left, the other to the right.
“What on earth are they going to do?” Dick asked in surprise.
“They are going to surround us,” Mr Harvey said; “they will dismount and leave their horses in shelter. Now, lads, out with all the bales of skins and pile them up under the waggons.”
All hands set to work, and soon under each waggon a thick breastwork of bales was erected, reaching nearly up to the floor, leaving only enough space to see out of and fire; the three whites and the hunters took station, one under each waggon, the teamsters and other natives being distributed round the square. Quickly as they had laboured, the preparations were not complete, when from a brow, at the distance of about a hundred yards from the laager, a shot was fired, the bullet burying itself with a thud in one of the bales of skins; almost instantly from every point in a circle round other shots were fired, and the splintering of wood and the dull sounds, as the shots struck the barricade, told how accurate was their aim.
Mr Harvey’s orders had been, “Don’t throw away a shot. When you see the flash of a rifle, aim steadily at that point; the next time a head is lifted to take aim, hit it.” The natives were ordered on no account to fire, unless the Boers attempted to close, but to lie quietly under shelter of the defences. In consequence of these orders not a shot replied to the first volley of the Boers; but when the second round commenced, puffs of smoke darted from beneath the waggons. Dick and Tom knew that their shots had been successful, for the heads at which they had aimed lay clearly in view, and no discharge came from the rifles pointed towards them. The other shots must have passed near their marks, and after this first exhibition of the shooting powers of the defenders, the Boers became much more careful, firing only at intervals, and shifting their ground each time, before they raised their heads to take aim. So the whole day passed, a dropping fire being kept up on both sides. The defenders were convinced by the end of the day that seven or eight of the Boers had fallen, but their places had been more than filled by new-comers who had been seen galloping across the plain towards the scene of conflict. On the side of the defenders no casualties had occurred.
Towards evening the fire died away, and Tom and Dick joined Mr Harvey.
“What will they do next?”
“I don’t know, Dick; the Boers are by no means fond of exposing themselves to danger, as has been proved over and over again in their fights with natives. They must have suffered already a great deal more than they bargained for, and are no doubt heartily sick of the job. They may try a rush at night, though I question whether they will do so. I rather imagine that their tactics will be to besiege us until we are driven to make a move, and then to attack us by the way. Fortunately the stream is close at hand, and we can get water for our cattle. Still, there must be an end of it at some time or other.”
Blacking now crept under the waggon.
“Massa, what you say?—me think the best plan will be for me to crawl out and run to chief Mangrope; his place twenty miles away; he always hate the Dutch, and refuse to pay tribute; several times they have sent parties against him, but he always beat them off. Blacking tell him that de Boers attack English, and that if he come down and help drive them off you give him one team of fine oxen,—he come.”
“I think your plan is a very good one, Blacking; but do you think that you can get through?”
“Get through those stupid Boers? Easily,” Blacking said contemptuously.
“Very well, Blacking; then, as soon as it is dark, you had better start.”
Blacking nodded and withdrew, and an hour afterwards stole out from the camp.
As soon as night fell the Boers opened fire again, this time aiming entirely at the end of the waggons nearest the water, evidently with the intention of rendering it difficult to pr
ocure water from the stream.
Mr Harvey and his companions answered by firing at the flashes. As they hoped that rescue would arrive ere long, Mr Harvey did not permit any one to go outside shelter to fetch water, as the animals had been watered in the morning the first thing, and could, if necessary, hold out until the following night.
Just as daylight was breaking a tremendous yell was heard, followed by a hasty discharge of muskets; then there was the sound of horses’ hoofs galloping at full speed, and then, headed by Blacking, two to three hundred natives came up to the camp. The chief himself was among them. Mr Harvey had on several occasions traded with him, and now thanked him warmly for the welcome aid he had brought him.
The Boers were already far away, each man having run to his horse and galloped off, panic-stricken at the sudden attack. The oxen were at once inspanned, two being taken from each team and presented to the chief, together with a large bale of cotton in return for his assistance. The caravan then started, and after a march of sixteen hours arrived at Leydenberg.
“It is an awful nuisance,” Dick said to Tom on the march, “our being obliged to come round here. If everything had gone straight, I calculated that we might be at home by Christmas-eve. Now, goodness only knows when we shall arrive; for, as likely as not, we may be kept here for days over this row with the Boers.”
The moment they arrived at Leydenberg Mr Harvey, accompanied by the two lads and the three native hunters, went to the house of the magistrate. That gentleman had just finished his dinner; but on being told that his visitors’ business was urgent he asked them to be shown in. The hunters remained outside, and the lads followed Mr Harvey into the house.