(1895) Diamond Dyke By George Manville Fenn

DIAMOND DYKE OR

THE LONE FARM ON THE VELDT Jl <Stori} of <Sout!t JVfvicau JVbbtntuve

RY

GEORGE ^lAXVILLE AUTHOR OF 'real GOLD;'

'

HAJAII OF

DAH

EEX:N" '

;

'DINGO BOYS

; '

ETC,

WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATTOXS BY

'w. i3oxjom:igu

W.

Sz

E.

CHAMBERS,

Limited

LONDON AND EDINBURGH 1893

rrintodbyW,

iS:

II.

Cliaiiiljors, Liiiiite*!,

CON T X T S. .!•]

PACK

CHAPTIilt 1.

II.

III.

IV.

y. VI. VII. VIII.

IX.

X. XI.

xu. XUl. XIV.

XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII.

XIX.

XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV. XXVI.

XXX II. XX VI II.

QUKUY BAD SHILLINGS? DYKE EOUSES UP AX USTiaCH llACE ANOTHER FAILUKE ?

BIG

m HDNESTING

LIONS AT

HOME

THE VKLDT THE DESEUT HERDS A
STERLING COIN A SORE STRAIT DYK1-:

SETS HIS TEETH

7

20 30 38

oO 69

83 97

114 126 140 lol

158 177

182 187

198

208 221

228

240

A BIT OF NATURE DAYLIGHT BLACK SUA DOWS

2j2

duke's FIN1>

281

THE NIGHT ATTACK OOM STARTLES HIS FRIENDS THE CHANGE THAT CAME

295

260 273

303

324

LIST OF ILLUSTllATIONS. PAGE

Tlte

huge beast faced the boy, with head erect and ing

Dyke gave

tail

lash-

Froiitisp Iccc.

his

whip a wliish through the

air

Jack seized the mane and trotted off beside the horse Keeping a wateiiful eye tlze wliiJe upon the lion

33 91

133

'Ach! das is goo t. How you vas, niein bube?' The boy asked himself what he ought to do next

211

Followed by a loud

299

'

Mein

cracious

!'

yell

cried the old

man

again

167

317

The huge beast faced the hoy, with

liead erect

ami

tail lasliing.

Page

SO.

diamo:nd dyke. CHAPTER

I.

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS

No

?

answer.

'Hi! Dyke!'

The

lad

addressed did not

turn

liis

head, but walked straight on, with the dwarf karroo buslies crackling

at each call he

dry red sand

and snapping under his

gave an angry kick

out,

feet, wliile

sending the

flying.

He was making

for

the

kopje or head

granite which rose high out of the level plain

of

bald

— where,

save in patches, there was hardly a tree to be seenfor

lay

amongst these piled-up masses of glittering deep moist crevices in which were

stone,

shade and

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS

8

water, the

trickling

?

great blessings

dry and

a

of

thirsty desert.

Do

'Hi!

3^ou hear,

Dyke?' came again,-shouted by

a big athletic-looking young imin,

broad-brimmed Panama

hat,

brown beard an angry tug *

Oh

yes, I hear/

old Joe.

flannels

in,

and he gave

his

thick

as he spoke.

muttered the lad

He's got away again, and

' ;

I

can

liear you,

A

I .shan't couie.

stupid-headedj vicious, long-legged beast, that

he

and a

's

what

is/

'Hi

V roared the 3^oung

man, as he stood

an ugly corrugated iron shed, dignified by

in front of

tlie

name

of

house, from which the white-wash, laid thickly over

the gray zinc galvanising to

ward

blinding Afric sun, had peeled

off*

away

the rays of the

here and there

in patches.

Some attempts had been made

to take off the square,

desolate ugliness of the building

by planting a patch

of garden surrounded

by posts and wire but they were

not very successful,

for, as

grow

for

want

;

a rule, things would not

of water.

Vandyke Emson

—the

Dyke

shouted at

—had

been

the gardener, and so long as he toiled hard, fetching

water from the granite kopje springs, a quarter of a mile

away, and tended the roots he put in the virgin they rushed up out of the ground

;

but, as

soil,

he reason-

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS

?

ably said, he couldn't do everything, and to play

he omitted

if

Aquarius for twenty-four hours, there were

the plants that looked so flourishing yesterday shrivelled to all

He had

nothing.

planted creepers to I'un

over the sides and roof, but the sun

corrugated iron red

hot— the

made the

boy's exaggerated figure

of speech, but so hot that

you could not keep your

hand upon the roof or wall

—and

the temperature too

they

much

for their constitution,

and

Then he trained up

turned to hay.

rapidly

the creepers found

tomatoes, which grew at express speed so long as they w^ere Avatered,

formed splendid

selves a couple of days,

the creepers.

were

them-

left to

and then followed

suit

with

Joseph Emson smiled behind his great

beard, and said they toes

fruit,

were a success because the toma-

were cooked ready for use

;

but

Dyke

said

it

was

another failure, because they were just as good raw,

and he did not like to eat his fruit as vegetables cooked in a frying-pan covered with white-wash. Still ail

was not

bare, for a patch of great sunflowers

found moi.sture enough for their roots somewhere far below, and sent up their great pithy stalks close to the

house door, spread their rough leaves, and imitated the

sun s disk in their broad, round, yellow flowers.

with

There ahnost

was an

ugl}"

leafless

branches and brilliant scarlet flowers; while

euphorbia

too,

its

tliorny,

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS?

10

grotesque and hideous-looking,

with

its

great,

flat,

oblongj biscuit-shaped patches of juicy leaf, studded

with great thorns, a prickly pear or opuntia reared itself

who

ona '

against

It

approached.

no

's

end gable, warranted to stop every

tlie

old desert,

Dyke

good,'

and

I hate

once said

the place

is

a nasty

I wish I 'd never come.

and

it,

'

;

Tliere s only six letters in Africa,

and half of them

spell fry.'

'And

that's

bad grammar and bad

spelling,' said

'and you're a discontented young

his half-brother; cub.' '

And you 're we been

haven't

out here failure, '

'

fried or

o;i'illed

lad.

've

made

when

sometimes,

my

said

Dyke

Look

We've

here, Joe

;

I

we

've

been

I

it 's

all

a

a big mistake V

'm very hot

and

tired,

failed so far; but, look here,

wish you wouldn't be so jolly

Poor old fellow, then

Take '

Well,

brave and beautiful British boy.'

thirsty, *

'

ever since

fond of chaffing and teasing me,' said '

sourly.

and don't you say yourself that

and that you

Yes,

Dicky,

my

?

another,'

it

Don't

then?'

cried

1

his

Was

Dyke

angrily.

urn hot and tired and

half-brother

mockingly.

coolly, Dicky.' call

me

Dicky,' cried the boy passionately, as

he kicked out both

legs.

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS? 'Vandyke

11

Eiiison, Esquire, ostrich-farmer,

then/ said

the other.

'Ostrich-fanner!'

Ugh

disgust.

'

goblins.

I

!

With

eh, old

Dyke, in

beard— a

full

of

'm sick of the silly-looking, lanky

too.'

their legs sticking straight

man

a tone

wish their heads were buried in the sand,

and their bodies '

I

cried

?'

said Joseph

up

to

make

fences,

Emson, smiling behind his

smile that would have been

all

lost,

if

it

had not been for a pleasant wrinkle or two about his frank blue eyes. *

Well, they would be some good then,* said Dyke, a

little

more amiably.

breaking

your

*

These wire fences are always

down and going off 6;pa9i(/, and

legs.

twisting round

Oh, I do wash I was back at home.'

'Amongst the rain and clouds and

fog, so that

you

could be always playing cricket in summer, and football in winter,

and skating when there

'Don't you sneer at the '

I

fog,

Avas

ice.'

Joe,' retorted

Dyke.

wish I could see a good thick one now.* 'So that you

veldt

could say, "Ah, you should see the

where the sun shines brightly for weeks

gether.

»

to-

t

'Sun shines!'

cried

Dyke.

*

Here, look at

my

face

and hands.' *Yes; they're burnt of good Russia leather colour,

;

—

'

!

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS?

12 like mine,

Dyke.

Well,

pack the wagon, give

it

Shall

we

and trek ylowly back

to

what do you say up,

?

Cape Town V '

Yes, I 'm ready

*

Get

out,

No, you

cried the

don't,' said

got too

your

in

much

know you

I

Oh, come,

veins.

my

boy.

of the old dad's Berserker blood

now

:

withdraw

all

that

when they Ve taken hold

plough handles.'

'Bother the plough handles '

know

better than you

not of that breed,

British boys don't look back of the

I

!

Djdvc sulkily.

You 're

yourself.

You 've

fibber

that.'

*Yes, I do, Dicky.

know

boy eagerly.

you confounded young

you better than '

!'

By

all

means, boy

!'

but, I say, that isn't English,

;

Dyke.

Where would our

been

her sons had been ready to sing that coward's

sonir '

if

country's greatness

have

2'

Now you 're

beginning to preach again,

Joe,' said

the boy sulkily, '

Then say you

for

"

Thank

you,"

liiy lad.

Isn't it a fine thing

to have a brother with you,

and then, when

there isn't a church for hundreds of miles

who can No '

;

that

preach to you because I

we ought

to

—a

brother

?

know what you

go on and fight

're

going to say

it out.'

;

QUERY BAD SHILMNGS 'That's

Didn't some one

Dick}'.

it,

13

?

sa}-

the

that

knew

beauty of a British soldier was that he never

when he was beaten V 'I'm not a

soldier,

and

am

I

beaten/ cried Dj'ko

sourly. *

Not yon.

let's

give

know you

I

and packed up

up,"

it

Why,

better.

all

we

I said "

if

Yes

cared to take,

and got the wagon loaded to-night, 3'ou'd repent

when we were ready

the morning ''

Let

have another

's

try."

Well, perhaps I might say

'

Ha, ha, ha

laughed

young humbug yon with

back spent

me

are,

all

it is

two bad

so hot

We 're

thirsty,

both

and

*I am,

very

' ;

what a

Fancy you going back

shillings,

"

Here we

are,

We 've

father.

a pair of failures."'

"sve're

and tiresome, and the ostriches

are such horribly stupid beasts, and '

Emson

Joseph

and us saying,

our money, and

'Well, but

'

Dicky.

to the old dad,

again, like

say,

'

'

!'

and

to start,

in

tired,

and

'

disappointed,

and

'

you mean,'

said

Dyke.

'Nothing ever seems

to M'orry you.*

*Hah! me.

know

I feel as

give up.

yet/

I

We

you, Dicky, better than j^ou

keenly as you do, boy. haven't given

tlie

No

:

we

know

will not

ostriches a fair trial

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS?

14

we

Oh, haven't

*

No

*

;

not half.

No

:

it

has

know we 've had

I

We

luck just lately. *

r terribly

did begin well/

been a dreary muddle, and

all

bad

I

'm sick

of it;

'Yes.

a

you often are

night's

you

rest

again in a right

enough

ready

are

my

No,

spirit.

Dyke;

a night,

of

lad,

we

but after to

'11

go

on

never say

die,'

Who

'

wants

to

else.

Let's go and

skins,

and

sell

fill

want

I

!

to have a try at something

hunt and get

lion

and leopard

the wagon, and bring them back and

them/

'

Plenty of people are doing that, Dicky/

'

Well then,

let

's

go after

and bring back a load to

ivorj^

;

shoot elephants,

It's

sell.

worth

lots of

money.' *

Plenty of people are doing that

'

Oh, you won't

try, Joe,

too, boy.'

and that 's what makes me

so wild.'

'You mean,

I won't set a seed to-day

to-morrow to see

why

it

hasn't

'That's what you always '

Yes,

because

ostrich-farui/

say,' said

to try

it

up

up.'

Dyke

grumpily.

many an experiment — to make

we came out

hundred pounds, Dicky,

an

come

and dig

here with

so

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS? '

And we Ve

*

Oh

'

failed/

dear, no,

invested

House

my

We 've

lad.

Ha, ha, ha

'

Not handsome,

*

Dicky

What

!

certainly,

our

money

a house

!'

Dicky/

And

in our enclosures

and

and horses and guns and ammunition, and in

So we

paying our men.

wanted

to/

But

see

'

all

There you go again/

1

*Ycs, there I go again. pens,

spent

here in a wao-on and oxen and house/

it

!

15

what a

'Big, vast, level,

can't afford to give

desolate place

it is

up

we

if

T

and wild, but the very spot for our

purpose.' *

And

'

To quarrel with

not a neighbour near.'

mustn't give

it

up

No, not one.

?

;

wc

No, Dyke,

and some day you

'11

say I

m

'Never,' cried the boy emphaticalh'. '

Never 's a long day. Dyke.

going to

tell

here,

lad,

I

'm

you an old story/

'Thankj'c,'

Bruce and the

said

Dyke

sullenly.

'I

know

—about

spider.'

'Wrong, old story that

—Look

fellow,

this

time.

Another author's

you don't know/

'Bother the old stories

!'

cried the boy.

The big manly fellow laughed good humouredly.

!

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS?

IG '

Poor old Dyke

What what '

is

— prickly

heat

badly this time.

it

or

home-sickness,

or

?'

Everything.

Dick. '

it

he has got

!

Oh, this desert

'

Not

it,

and

tired

'm as miserable as niizzer/ cried

I

Dyke

it 's

;

dreary/

is

wild and

Some

disappointed.

You

are

must

be

grand.

days

Come, Dyke, pluck

dark and dreary, boy.

!

pluck

pluck r '

'

I haven't got

Has

V

it

any

;

sun

's

dried

it all

said his brothei", lano^hino-.

out of me.' *

I don't believe

Xo, Dicky, we cant go home and sneak in at

it.

the back door with our tails between our legs, like

two beaten hounds.

There are those at home Mdio

would sorrow for

and yet

We

us. if

us,

came out here

our perseverance will do '

failed

we

haven't

Well,

by a '

:

my

story

river.

No,' said

That

still.'

will,

it.'

and

tried,

everything

hasn't

?'

he rested '

and win we

to win,

'No, boy,' cried the young here

that they despised

feel

it

's

of a party of

is

Come,

I never told

man

excitedly.

American

you

loafers

'Look

down

that.'

Dyke, raising his brown face from where

upon

his arm.

better.

Then

you

can

be

interested

QUERY BAD SHILLINGS? *One needs something

17

to interest one in this miser-

able, clried-up desert/ cried the boy.

'Miserable, dried-np desert V said his brother, speak-

ing in

low deep voice, as he gazed right away

a

through the transparent air at the glorious colours

where the sun sank in a canopy of amber and 'No, Dicky,

has

it

beauties, in spite of

its

all

gold.

you

say.' *

Oh Joe

you

! '

cried the boy,

Didn't you

are.

'

what a tiresome you

sa}^

wei-e

me

a story about some Americans

Oh,

how

*Ah

Do go to be

!

going to

down by

I should like to get to a mill-race

a bathe.

it's

tell

a river

?

and have

on.'

Well, I only want you to take

sure.

notice of one part of

*Then

old chap

The

it.

a moral

rest is brag.'

cried

story,'

Dyke, in a

dis-

appointed tone. 'Yes,

if

you

like; but

it

''Taint about ostriches, '

No.

may is it?'

—They were throwing

'What!—the

be fresh to you.'

stones.'

loafers?*

'Yes, from a wharf, to see wlio could throw farthest,

and one man, who was looking

on, sneered at them,

how

far he could thi'ow.

and beo'an to boast about

They laughed

at him,

and one of them made himself

very objectionable and insulting, with the result that

B

QUERV JUD

18

man

boasting

tlie

SniLLINfiS?

said, if

it

came

to the

point,

lie

could throw the other fellow right across the river.

Of course there was

a roar of laughter at this^ and

one chap bet a dollar that he could not/ *

And

of course he couldn't,' said

his prickly heat

'The boastful

him

the

seized

laid,

up,

amidst

as

fellow,

it

was

of

roai*s

soon as the wa^'er was

by the waist-band, heaved

other

and pitched him

man came

the

'But you said

irritation.

Well?'

brag.

all

and

Dyke, who forgot

off the

wharf into the

river,

which were kept up as

laughter,

drenched out of the

and asked

river,

to be paid. '

"

first till

Oh

no,'*

time.

said the other

Bat

I kin

dew

;

it,

" I didn't

and

say I

I will

'd

dew

do

it

it, if

the

I try

to-morrow morning;" and catching hold of the wet

man, he heaved him up again, and threw him by a tremendous effort nearly a couple into the river.

Down

he went out

of yards

out

of sio^ht in the

deep water, and out he scrambled again, hardly able to speak,

when he was

seized once more.

'"Third time never

fails,"

the other had had enouijh of

cried the it,

fellow;

but

and owned he was

beaten.'

'But '

it

was hy an

Of course

it

artful trick,' cried

was, boy

;

Dyke.

but what I want you to notice

QUERY BAP SiriM.IXGS? was tho bragging;

spirit

I

kin

of

the

dew

it,

to-morrow morning.

till

dew

it,

Dyke, even

mornino'

if

thino\

thouo'li

and

I will

We

kin

we have

ID it

dew

dew

to tiy

it,

was

only

if

I try

it,

and we

till

will

to-morrow

— to-morrow-comc-nevcr-mornini>:.'

'Oh!' groaned Dyke, sinking Lnck upon the sand; '

I

am

so liot

and

dry.'

CHAPTEE DYKE HOUSES

HAT

UP.

was months before the opening

our story,

way of

II

in

when Dyke was making

disgust

the

his

toward the moist shade where, deep

kopje,

of

down from

cracks of the granite rock, the spring gurgled out.

Only a part ran for a few

3'ards,

and then disappeared

in the sand, without once reachins: to

where the sun

blazed down.

Joe

Emson

sliouted once more, but

Dyke would not

turn his head. 'Let him follow ]joy.

'

Hot

He

isn't half so

if

hat,

!

bii>'

fellow took off his broad

gave his head a vicious rub, replaced

txirned to shout

Mack

he wants me,' muttered the

hot as I am.'

or not hot, the

Panama and

me

aci'ain.

Ahoy, Jack

!'

it,

DYKE ROUSES There was no reply to

21

UP.

for Kaffir

this,

Jack lay

behind the house in a very hot place, fast asleep upon the sand, with his dark skin glistening in the sunshine, the

pigment within keeping

off the blistering

sun-

burn which would have followed had the skin been white.

have to go after

'I shall

off the

casting

and,

hiui,'

feeling

nuittered Joe Enison

of languor

;

which had

impelled hiua to call others instead of acting himself,

he braced himself up, left the scorching iron house behind, and trotted after

Dyke, scaring a group of

stupid-looking young ostriches into a run behind the

wire fence.

He knew where there he was, lying

he would find his half-brother, and

upon

his breast, Avith a cushion of

green mossy growth beneath him, a huge hanging rock

overhead cool

and

castino*

clear

a broad shade, and the water

so

out his hand to

close

scoop

that it

o-urcrlinfr

he had but to stretch

up and drink from the

palm.

Outside there was the scorching, blinding sunshine,

however, and

among

seemed rather

cool.

the rocks

*0h, you lazy young sybarite

he came up. didn't

*

You always know

you answer me V

all

!'

looked black, and

cried Joe

Emson,

the best places.

as

Why

DYKE HOUSES

22

'What's the good

of ausvvering?' cried

can't help old Goblin getting

and nothing

an iron with a

No

'

bai*

He

again.

shall stop hini/ said Joe.

driven into the ground, and

*I

will go,

'

1

'11

tetlier

have

him

rope.'

Dyke

good/ said

and swallow the

Then

'

away

Dyke.

will stop him.'

But something

'

UP.

I

*He'd

'11

:

he

*

'd

eat the rope

bar.'

tether

roll it

drowsily

him with a

j^iecc of chain.'

up and swallow

it.

—I

say Joe, I feel

sure he had that curb chain and the two buckles

we

missed/

Nonsense

'

Come, get up, and help drive him

!

ni.

1

'

'm too tired, and

on the lookout for I

took a

bits of iron

hammer and

one day, and broke

He

them.

fill '

*Eh?

•and

it

and broken crockery,

up in

and fed him with

bits

all.'

birds do pick up stones and things

their gizzards.'

And

'As

:

He 's always

a cnxcked willows-pattern plate

it

them

Well, of course

'

to

ate

isn't nonsense.

it

if

that s just

I feel/ said

Dyke.

How?'

my

gizzard was

makes me

'And

how

lazy.

filled

irritable

and

Come; jump

with shai'p bits of stone, cross.'

up.'

DYKE KOUSES

I .said last time I

I can't, Joe.

'

23

UP.

'cl

never go after the

goblin again, and I won't/

you

Yes,

'

will

you

;

'11

come and help me drive him

in.

No

*

let

:

him go/

Nonsense

'

'Then

He 's

!

the

others

the best cock bird I 've

must be bad

irot.'

ones/

grumbled

Dyke. 'Get up,

sir!' cried Joe,

stirring the

boy with

his

toe.

mind your

I don't

kicking.'

'

'Shan't.

'

Get up, or

*

Wouldn't be such a coward, because you

declare

seizing the '

I

will/

in the spring.'

cried

Joe,

're

big

size/

bending down

and

boy by the arm and waistband.

All right, do

Joe

duck you

'11

Hit one of your own

and strong. 'I

I

Emson

:

will be deliciously cool.'

it

up and

rose

took hold

of

his

big-

beard. '

Don't leave

me

everything to do, Dyke, old boy/ he

said appealingly. for

'

I

woukln't lose that great ostrich

any money.'

Dyke muttered something about hating ostrich,

but did not

*All right.

I'll

away ^nd walked

the

old

stir.

go alone/ said Joe; and he turned

swdftly back.

DYKE ROUSES UR

2i

But

had gone a dozen yards Dyke had

lie

bct'oi'o

sprung up and overtaken him. I

'

'11

come, Joe/ he said

make me does

it

so wild.

on purpose

' ;

but that old cock does

know he

I

understands, and he

to tease me.

I

wish you

'd

shoot

him/ luxury,

the

afford

Can't

*

clapping his brother on the shoulder.

our

pile

'Let's

Joe,

make

first.'

Then the goblin

'

said

un,'

little

we

boy, 'for

shall

live

will

never

for

make any

ever,'

sighed

the

piles.

— Where

right

across

is

he?'

Joe sliaded his eyes and looked

the

barren veldt, where the glare of the sun produced a hazy, shimmering

etlect.

'

There he

'

Don't see anything.'

'

Yes,

is

you

!'

Your eyes

can.

are sharper than mine.

There, just to the left of that rock.'

— that one like a young kopje V

'

What

'

Yes, just to the left'

'

!

What !— that

'Yes,

it is;

speck

and

if

?

Oh

!

that can't be

you had the

glass,

it.'

you could

directly.' *

But

'

It will be cooler ridiuQ-.'

it 's

so far,

and oh dear, how hot

!'

it is

tell

DYKE ROUSES '

No,

hor.ses '

under you,

sham

'It isn't

'

;

by

hot

be

'II

Come,

you.

old lad,

idleness.'

sham/

said

Dyke.

'I don't think I used to

but this hot sun has stewed

idle,

there

then.'

Yes, but cool air rushing

don't

be

Dyke

won't/ grumbled

it

25

UP.

ail

the spirit out

of me.'

Joe said nothing, but led the

;

back

shed thatched with niealie

thorns shut in a ican-to

and stalks

to the

where a high thick hedge of

of the long low house, to

leaves

way round

dry I'emains of a load

these, the

of

Indian corn, being laid on heavily, so as to form a good shelter for the

horses,

to a rouuli

Iialtored

t-i* niano-er

beneath.

As Dyke

approaclied,

he

raised

a metal

whistle

which hung from his neck by a leather thong, and blew loudly. big,

A

low wliinny answered the

raw-boned,

well-bred cob

powerful

horse

were unhaltered,

patiently enough

to

be

and to

bridled

call,

and a

handsome,

a

turn and stand

and saddled,

after-

wards following out their masters like dogs.

And now

as they passed the end of the stable, all the

languor and lassitude passed instant.

away from Dyke on

For he now caught

servant lying fast asleep just the corrugated iron roof.

sif^ht

of

theii-

the

Kaffir

beneath the eaves of

DYKE HOUSES

26

The sand

luished the horses' hoot's, and the Kaffir

slept on, with the

'

some huge

I 'm not

'What *

You

'11

buzzing about his half-open

tlios

they mistook the thick red

nioutli, as if

petals of

UI'.

flower.

going to stand that/ said the boy.

you going

are

to

do

?'

see/ whispered Dj' ke.

ai'ter goblins,

he

'

If I

'm to be toiling

not going to sleep there like a

's

Go on

black pig.

the

lips for

a

little

way and

look back/

Joe Emson smiled in a heavy, good-humoured way, as he took the bridle his brother

handed

to hiui,

and

the smile developed into a silent laugh, as he saw the boy's energy over a bit of mischief.

For Dyke actually ran back to the

stable,

brought

out a bucket of water, stood counting the furrows of the iron roofing, and then carried the pail round to the other side and set

it

down.

His next movement was

to fetch

a roughly

made

step-ladder, count the furrows on his side, then place the

ladder carefully, and at such a slope that

it

lay flat on

the roof, so that, steadily preserving his balance, he

walked up with the bucket round

till

of w^atcr

he could see across the

from I'ound

ridg^c to

to

where his

brother stood with the horses a hundred yards away,

watching over the big nag's mane, and grasping now

what

w^as to

happen.

DYKE KOUSEy

Dyke

knelt clown

now behind

the ridge, to which

the top of the ladder just reached, well, that

his distance so little,

upon

27

UP.

and had calculated

some water trickled down two

an iron

the bucket a

tilting

of the

furrows of

and began to drip from the eaves upoii

sheet,

the Kaffir's nude chest.

There was no movement, so a

more water

little

wiis

poured, and this brought forth a pig-like grunt, as

if

of satisfaction.

More water "VIore

—more grunts.

water, and a shuffling movement.

More water, and an angry gasp his head, looked

up

at the sky, the

—looked round, and settled down to All this

was

invisible to

the sounds that his shower

soon as the

man

the Kaffir raised

;

dripping eaves

sleep.

Dyke, but he could

tell

was having

and as

effect

;

ceased to move, the boy sent

by

down a

third of the bucketful.

This produced a sharp

ejaculation,

and the man

sprang up into a sitting position, and looking angrily round, saw that

Emson was standing

the horses, and that no one else

glance was at the cloudless eaves, to

ceased to

was

far

away with His next

near.

sky, and the

which a few bright drops

still

dripping

hung and

fall.

Only a rare shower, the man seemed to think

;

and,

DYKE HOUSES

28

muttering to

liiiaself,

spot

to

lie

down

rest

of

the

he shuffled a httle into a dry

j^awning,

when rush came

the

time,

and

deluo-ino-

watei",

UP.

hiui

making him jump up and burst objurgations

shaking both his

sky

into

in

liis

the wliile,

till,

fists

came

bucket

the

crash!

the

against

this

rattlino-

turned and ran out toward where

a torrent of

own

tongue,

hang, clatter,

down,

Emson

and

he

stood look-

ino- on.

Dyke descended

quickly, and

making a

circuit,

he

ran round, and then appeared slowly from the end of a fence fifty yards from the house, walking quietly across to join his brother.

As he drew talking

away

near, the Kaffir in

broken

words of his own tongue

and took the rein

;

was gesticulating and

Englisli, uiingled

with more

and when J)yke joined them

of his little cob, the

man

turned

excitedly to him. '

What

The

's

the matter, Jack V

Kaffir looked at

or two, but

him suspiciously

Dyke mounted and

for a

moment

returned the gaze in

the most unruffled manner. '

Big rain

— big wet rain —big water— big bucket —

all

wet, wet,' cried the Kaffir. '

Make

the mealies grow,' said

'

Make

mealie

grow

!'

Dyke

cried the man.

coolly.

Then a change

DYKE ROUSES came

The look

over him.

became one of certainty, and broad grin

a '

which

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

!'

of

doubt

liis

face

displayed

he

29

UP.

all

and wonder expanded into

his

white teeth.

pointing to a couple

cried,

wet patches on the leg of the boy's trousers; 'you

of

make

rain

— Massa

Ah-ah-ah-ah *

Dyky make

wet.

along and help drive the ostrich/ said

Dyke, setting his cob to canter at

Wet,

!'

You come

Kaffir

rain.

a quick

trot,

;

and, followed

which soon dried

by the up

his

moisture, they went over the heated red sand toward

where the speck

in the distance

as the object they sought.

had been pointed out

CPI

AFTER

III.

AN OSTRICH RACE. SA.Y, Joe,

are

3"0U

right/

now, with animation. hot

moist,

and the sun and

air

only the making a

It's

'Tisn't

half

so

ridino'.'

Of course

'

Dyke

.said

not.

One begins

to

ci'et

bring a feeling of coolness. start.

Now

then, shall

I

try to cut him off?'

'No, nol' cried

make

Dyke You

the brute run.

'Right!' said

excitedly;

Emson

;

Til do

I'll

it.

follow up.'

'that

is,

unless he tracks

my

way. 'Oh, he won't do that/ said Dyke, with a merry laugh,

and

in

his

animation the boy seemed to be

quite transformed. It

was a good long

ride to

sought to bring back to

its

where

tlio

ostrich

they

pen could be seen stalking

AN OSTRICH about,

about as

lookiniv

RACE,

^1

a

cjuinoa-fowl, but

as

bio-

gradually growing taller and taller to as they

and ran

about,

After a time

rode on.

another, as

if

picking

ceased

it

one direction and then in

in

first

pursuers

its

undecided which line of country to take

before leading

its

pursuers a wild race out and across

the veldt.

By

soon after

it

neck

its

time

this

looked

it

was

fully

five,

as

out,

and

its

stretched

four

fully

weak,

;

up with

stood

it

high

feet

large-eyed,

head turned to them with a malicious expres-

flat

sion.

The

trio

now

separated, the horsemen riding

and more apart

hundred

each a couple of

who suddenly

they advanced,

as

uttered

a

yards

warning

till

they were

from the cry,

more

Kaffir,

indicate

to

that the orreat bird was bemnninir to run off straicfht

away. '

All right, Jack, I

his cob's sides he

in

pursuit

with

its

of

see,*

went

the

cried Dj'kc

off at a

bird,

which

head turned to watch

;

and pressing

gallop, not,

ran its

however,

right

pursuers

forward, all

the

time.

Dyke's

tactics,

the

quite another kind.

went

off like the

result

He

wind

of

experience, were

of

turned his cob's head, and

at ri^'ht ancfles to the course

AX OSTIUCH

82 the

was taking, and the

ostricli

There was

taneous.

RACE.

all

effect

was

instan-

open veldt, or plain,

the

spreading out for hundreds of miles before the bird,

and

had only

it

But

horse far behind.

suggested to

scheme

to cut

away,

it

that

it

and leave the swiftest

to dart off

off,

it

its its

would-be cunning nature

enemy had

deep

a

laid

and instead of going straight

turned on the instant to spin along in the

same direction

as

by the boy, and

that taken

get

right across him. '

Ah, 5^ou

silly,

Dyke,

yelled

as

muddled-brained, flat-headed idiot

he raced along over the

!'

plain, his

steed sending the red sand flying at every spurn of its

hoofs as

it

and cut him

stretched itself out. off.

You

can't

'I

do

it

'11

be there

—you

can't

first,

do

it.

Ah-h-h-h!' This last shout, endino- in a rattle of the tono-ue,

seemed efforts

to

stimulate

the

and laughing merrily

;

hilaration of the race.

drawing

liis left

to

Dyke had

rein, to

cob to

little

make

make

fresh

himself in the ex-

only to keep

sliglitly

the ostrich curve more

and more round towards him,

till

ho had actually

deluded the bird into takintr the exact direction he

wished

—namely,

right for

the pens

from which

it

had escaped.

On

sped the cob, running over the sand like a grey-

Dyke gave

his wliip a

whlsh through the

n

air

AN OSTRICH houml, and on rushed

ostrich, its long legs

tlic

with a half-invisible twinkling

duced its

its

\)y tlic

going

like that

efi'oct

pro-

spokes of a rapidly revolving wheel;

wings were half-extended, \on<x

35

KAC'E.

neck stretched

plumage

its

with

out,

and

ruffled,

flattened head

its

slightly turned in the direction of the rider.

And

and

so they rode on

on,

till

the low range of

buiklings in front became neaz^er, the yellow sunflower disks

grew

house.

and the sun glared from the white

bigger,

Still

the

continued to run pux'suer,

there

till

was a

over which

all

saw

bird in

lon<>*

woke

it

fence

but

this,

to

the

to

wire

of

ran^-e

of

trying

curve,

its

once

at

nothing

pass fact

its

that

])efore

it,

were bobbing about the heads of Joe

Emson's flock of

its

fellows,

the fence in front, and the

and there

it

was with

two liorsemcn and Kaffir

behind.

Then there was a change

of tactics.

Dyke, who was hundreds of companions,

knew what was

j^ards

in front of his

coming, and gave his

short-handled rhinoceros-hide whip a whish through the

air,

and then cracked

it

loudly, while a chorus of

discordant cries arose from the pens.

'Give up, you ugly old rascal, or

round your long neck,' cried arose from the pens, as

if

I'll

Dyke and ;

tlie

twist

this

a groat chorus

tamo birds within the

AN

86

OSTIUC'H

HACK

wire fence were imploring the great truant to be good,

and come home. nothing was further from

But

thoughts.

but

felt

it

show

to

that

figlit

in

now have

easil}^

was driven

it

bay,

to

and undulatinir looked like

a

awa^^

darted

and beo'an

the most vicious fashion, snapping

beak, hissing, snorting, rattling

flat

its

could

It

great bird's

the

its loner

neck, as

it

plumage,

its

danced about,

till it

boa constrictor which had partially

developed into a bird.

Then in

it

dashed

rushes.

its

But the

bill

at

him

was not the thing

to

a few lashes with the whip were enough to

mind

;

ward

off its attack.

The

from those tremendous hard

pursuer, snapping

at its

enouo-li to

dano-er to be avoided

legs,

came

which could deliver kicks

break a man's bones.

Three times over did the great bird strike at Dyke, as

was driven down

it

lash

the

of

to

tlie

whip, which wrapped round the neck,

head rose fully eight

as the

pen with lash after

feet

above the ground.

Then came another stroke which took Dyke's

leg,

but upon

stirrup, in spite of

tlic

effect,

not upon

horse's flank, just behind the

the clever

little

animal's l)Ounds

to avoid the kicks.

What

followed was instantaneous.

The horse whirled

round, snorting with pain, and struck out at his enemy,

AN OSTllICH its

heels with

came

in contact

sendino" out

that they

shanks, and the next

37

liACE.

such violence and

with one of the

moment

efiect,

ostrich's

the giant bird came to

the ground, a heap of feathers, from whicli the long-

neck kept blows.

darting,

and

one

leg

delivering

heavy

CHAPTER

IV.

ANOTHER FAILUHL:?

HY, Dyke, cried

Joe

you've

boy,

Enison^

done

cantering

now/

it

close

up,

his horse snortino- as the ostrich struck

at hiui with its snake-like head. '

Yes, you

by the

had better have

spring,' said the

me where

left

boy disconsolately,

I

was

*I hated

the old wretch, but I didn't want to hurt him.' 'I

my

know,

lad, I

blaming you, but

it

know/ does

Emson.

said

seem a

AVhat bad

pit}^

hick I do have with these birds, to be sure.

you savage

;

3'ou can't get

up

*I'm not

— Lie

still,

!'

This to the bird, which, after striking at him two or three times,

made a

ing and beating with

but trailing

its

desperate effort to its

wings, and hopping a

broken leg as

within which were

rise, flutter-

it

all its friends.

made

little,

for the pen,

;

ANOTHEK FAILURE

39

?

you had better have stayed

'Yes,

at

home, old

Dyke, apostrophising the unhappy bird

fellow/ said

'then you wouldn't have got into this state.

we

couldn't

Joe,

set

its

leu*

I say,

would soon c^row

It

?

—

together again.' *

but

it

there '

he were one of the quiet old hens, I

If

I

would be impossible.

Directly

'

'd

say yes

we went

near,

would be a kick or a peck/

'11

Dyke

said

try,'

and going

;

gently toward

where the bird lay crouched in a heap, he spoke softly to

the

as he

it,

had been accustomed

when

others

e:oinf:c

feed

to

to speak to

But

them.

his

advance was the signal for the bird to draw back head,

its

a fierce

roaring^

'I'm not

I

will

Emson

*But so

Dyke.

'I'll

get hold of his

and hold him.' ;

'

but the poor creature

itself to pieces.' it

will if

and then, sharply:

him

beak and

efforts to rise.

know,' said his brother

knock

emitted

sbarpl}^

afraid,' cried

neck, and try '

It struck out M'ith

made desperate

'Stop!' cried

it

sound that was like that of some

savage, cat-like beast.

wings, and

angrily, while

eyes flashing

its

you leave

it

quiet,' cried

*Ah: you cowardly

Dyke;

brutes,

let

alone.'

This was to some half-a-dozen cock birds in the

ANOTHER FAILURE?

40 pen,

many

which, possibly in rememhrance of the

times they had been thrashed and driven about the

pen by their injured king, seized the opportunity

and begin

his downfall to thrust out their long necks

him savagely,

striking at

and dragging them

out,

seizing

of

him by the

feathers,

he shuffled beyond their

till

reach, '

His fate

's

sealed

if

he

put with the rest

is

;

that

's

very evident/ said Emson,

'Killum '

tie

Let

's

''

said the Kaffir, nodding his head.

shut him up in the

him down whik^ we

'ItM^ould

stable,' said

mean such a

would mope and

'

and

set his leg/

desperate struggle that the

poor bird would never get over it

Dyke,

it

;

and

if

it

out

Better put

die.

it

of

did, its

misery/ Just then a big rough dog came out of the house,

where

it

had been having a long

sleep through the

hot part of the day, and after giving

wag

of

the

tail,

Dyke a

friendly

walked slowly toward the injured

ostrich.

That was its

enough

to

make

the

bird

draw back

head and strike at the dog, which avoided the

blow, and

growling

fiercely,

prepared to resent the

attack.

'Come away, Duke,'

cried

Dyke.

'To

heel, sir/

:

ANOTHER FAILURE The

growled and seemed to

dog*

41

?

but went

prote.st,

obediently behind his younger master. 'I '

had better shoot the

No, no

when

;

Let

don't.

have a try

we want

finds that

it

's

Dyke/

bird,

to save

do

to

Emson.

said

Perhaps

it.

good,

it

it

will

lie quiet.'

Emson;

'No,' said

*

will take

it

war.' '

Well,

let

's

try/

meant

as

it

— Dyke. Here,

said

for

Breezy

'

stable/

The cob walked slowly away toward

Dyke

the other horse followed, while

shed,

its

and

hurriedly fetched

a couple of pieces of rope, formed of twisted antelope skin.

'What do you propose doing 'All run in together,

then he tos^ether.

and

You can

tie his

set the

leo;

'

wood

'Wait

for splints.

Bit of box lid/ replied

Emson

Dyke

returned, bearino-

stout webbing, such as

by the poor emigrants

neck to one wing;

is

in

thighs

tie

his

till

I've cut a

then/

'Well, I'll try/ said Emson.

couple of pieces of

Emson.

said

and we can

be helpless,

'11

?'

;

and

What in a

addition

a

can I get

?'

few minutes flat

roll

of

used by upholsterers, and

to lace together across a frame,

and form the beds upon which they stretch their

weary bones

at night.

ANOTHER

42 '

I think I can set

'

Why,

'Yes, but will

kick

said

done,

it*s

Now

ofl'.

it/

Emson.

can.'

soon as

as it

and secure

it,

you

of course

FAILlTllE?

the

poor

brute

how about

then,

tying

him r 'Rush him/ said Dyke

'Coujc along,

laconically.

Jack, and help.'

But the '

*

'

Why,

hullo

No.

Him

You won't back

!

kick, bite

Never you mind

with

and hold

us,

:

no

out;

Jack f

^ood.'

that,' cried

Dyke.

You rush

*

his head, while w^e take his legs

in

and

Do you understand V

wings. '

Kaffir shook his head rapidly.

No,' said the Kaffir, shaking his head.

killum!' and he

made a gesture

as

if

'

Killum

striking with a

club, '

Not going

to

Do you

and hold the head. '

No,' said the Kaffir.

'

He

won't/ cried Emson.

ourselves,

head.

cried

kill/

Dyke.

Make

Then when

drag- the

I

Dyke.

*

You rush

in

understand V

'

We

shall

have

do

to

it

a noose and lasso the brute's

run in to

seize

the

leg,

you

neck tight down to the wing, and hold

it

there.'

Dyke rope^

nodded, made a noose at the end of his hide

and advanced gently toward the

ostrich,

which

ANOTHER FAILUHE? struck at loop

;

and

'Now,

but only to dart

liiiii,

was drawn

this

head tiirough the

tight.

dog

Joe, ready?' cried the boy, as the

made

by the

down

the

who

brothers,

Emson

bird.

avoiding a buffet from the

set

up

and joined in the rush that was

a furious barking,

slipped

its

43

holdinnj

in

the

pinning while

lec^s,

Dyke dragged down

uppermost wing,

the

round

rope

succeeded

tlie

bone,

the head, and after a furious struggle, the bird lay still.

'Think you can manage now?' panted Dyke, who

was hot from *Yes;

I'll

broken one. 'Yes;

exertion. his

It

the only chance for him.'

it's

's

Seems

as the

like

cried

it,*

Dyke;

it

violence,

terrific

*

up

for

down, while the Kaffir looked on calmly

one of the

legs,

and hold

Well, there then, he

keep

it

with

and giving the pair a hard task

is

who had been compelled to

to beat

keeping

enough, and the dog kept on charging seize

getting

said his brother sarcastically, for

fully five minutes, to hold

'he's

in.'

boy spoke, the great bird began

wings with

its

legs

right,'

all

weaker, and giving *

together, after setting the

tie

from

being

in,

as if eager to

it still.

giving in now,' panted Dyke, to put forth all his strength

thrown

off

by

the

violent

ANOTHEIl FAILURE?

44

'Look

buffeting of the bird's wings.

shaq:),

and get

it

done.'

Dyke

got one hand at

feather-down from his

made

it

poor brute. the enclosure

And

theiu

pen were gathered together

He '11

' ;

he

is

to look on.

giving in now,

never hunt the young cocks round

ao-ain.'

they

know

wagging

look

to

could not

aloud at the row of comical

Yes/ said Emson gravely

'

where the perspiration

face,

lauo-liinijC »";-)

ostriches in the '

wipe the

to

peering over the wire fence, where the

heads

flat

now

adhere, and as he looked up, he

from

refrain

liberty

it,

their

cunning.

too,'

cried

silly

old

— But

Dyke.

Look

and

heads

why

hullo!

'

don't

at

tr3ung

you

go

on V i

*

Can't you see?' said Emson.

must have struck him old goblin

Dyke and It

horse's hoofs

The poor

in the side as well.

is dead.'

leaped to

sceptically

'The

from

his

feet

dismay,

in

his brother to the bird,

and stared

and back again

ao-ain.

was true enough

:

the great bird, which so short a

time ago was seeming to speed

across

invisible,

members

now

the veldt lay

perfectly

on still,

spin with such wonderful

that its

its

side,

legs

with

were nearly the

stilt-like

one being stretched out to

its

ANOTHER FAILUKE?

45

the other in a peculiar double angle, through

full length,

the broken bone

making a

fresh joint.

*0h, the poor old goblin!' said the boy, hiirriedl}^ unloosenincr the reim didn't

choke

it,

did I

which held down

No

?

:

head.

its

*

I

was quite

look, the loop

big/

No

^

;

the ribs are crushed

in,'

'Another

beneath the beautiful plumage.

We '

said Enison, feeling loss,

Dyke.

good qualities now.'

shall find out all his

Breezy kick and killum/ said the Kaffir senten'Bird

tiously.

kick,

killum

horse kick;

— shouldn't

kick/ '

Here, you go back to your kraal, and set up for a

wise

man

long did

of the south/ cried

it

take you to find out

Dyke all

pettishly.

'How

that V

'Yes, killum dead/ said the Kaffir, nodding.

'Boshr '

'

Well,

cried

Dyke, turning impatiently awa}^

we must make

the best of

it,'

said Enison then.

His feathers will be worth something, for they are in

fine condition.

The heat

Let's get

of the

them

off at once.'

sun was forgotten, and so was

Dyke's want of energy, for he set to work manfully, helping his brother to cut off the abundant plumes,

tying them up in loose bundles with the quill ends lively that

them

they might dry, and carefully carrying

into the

room used

for storino* feathers,

e^-ofs,

and

;

AI^OTHER FAILURE?

4G

such curiosities as were coliectetl from time to time

Dyke having

hobby

displa^'cd a

that he found during his travels.

an old

rano'cd in

home

bringing

and any attractive piece

stones, crystals, birds' eggs, ore,

for

case, standino-

of

These were

upri^icht a^'ainst the

'J

-wall,

where, a few boardini^s nailed O

across for shelves, the

boy had an extremely rough but

iron

corruc^ated CD

cabinet, the lid of the case formino^ the door

useful

when

attached by a pair of leather hinges tacked on

with wire '

nails.

There,' said

removed will

'

;

Emson, when the

what do you say

make a

to

last

plumes had been

having the skin

off?

It

mat.'

Dyke nodded, and

the Kaffir

tough skin was stripped

now

off,

and

it

there,

helping, the bird's

laid, feathers

down-

ward, on the roof to dry. 'Jackals

can't

reach

can

they?'

said

Emson. 'No, I think not.

Leopard might come and pull

it

down.'

'Yes: don't

let

Duke

be out of a nio-ht; there has

been one hanging about

lately.

— But

what are you

going to do V '

Dissect him,' said Dyke,

who was on

his sliarp sheath-knife in his hand. '

Nonsense

1

Leave

it

now.'

his knees

with

ANOTHEJl FAILURE '

want

I

know he

I

it.

to see the poor

47

?

and open

goblin's gizzard,

olt.l

has got knives and

all sorts

of things

inside.' '

Then you may

look,'

saii.l

feed the horses and have a

unsaddled

Emson.

wash

'

I 'm going to

they haven't been

;

yet.'

He went

to the thorn-fence

hot and tired now,

Dyke made

the ojreat bird, and

drasfQ'inG^

and disappeared, while, short

out the

work

opening

of

i^izzard,

which he

opened as a cook does that of a fowl, and exclaimed aloud at the contents '

:

me some water in boy was gone, Dyke scraped

Here, Jack, fetch

while the

'

'

quite a heap

sand

crystals,

;'

and

out on to the

flinty stone,

rough

of iron, rusty nails,

and a

of pieces of

and some pieces

the tin

good-sized piece of hoop.

must have a look at you afterwards,'

'I

boy, as he picked out

some forty or

fifty of

looking rough crystals, gave them

said the

the dingy-

a rub over and

over in the dry sand upon which he knelt, to dry tliem,

and

then thrust

them— a

good

handful

— into

his

pocket.

'Do laugh.

for

the collection,' he said to himself with a

'Label:

goblin's gizzard

crystals

of

quartz,

discovered in a

by Vandyke Emson, Esquire,

Kopfontein, South Africa/

F.A.S.,

T ANOTHKR FAILURE

48

'Wanterwater Yes,

'

do

I

''

?'

wantervvater,"

my

hands.

Look

Narcy

*

Hold hard, though

tlie

;

let

*It looks clean

boy.

Dyke, turning

returned.

'

I

want

to

Jack

man, making a grimace.

'

V said the

at 'em,

cried

'

who had

sharply on the Kaffir, wasli

?

;'

have a drink

's

and raising the

first/ cried tin,

he took

a deep draught before using the vessel for a good

wash, taking a

handful

sand

of

in

the

place

of

soap. '

Find the knife V said Emson, coming back from the

stable.

'No, bat look

cried Djd<e, pointing to

here,'

great piece of hoop-iron.

'

the

Fancy a bird swallowing

that/ *

Iron

is

good for

birds,

— 'Here, Jack, drag quietly. rcmembei', a good way.

I

suppose/ said

that bird right

Mind,

I don't

Emson

away

off';

want the jackals

too close to-nii^ht.'

The

Kaffir nodded, seized the bird's legs as

were the shafts

of

a cart or handles

of

if

they

a wlieel-

barrow.

The load was heavy, though, and he shook

his head,

with reason, for such a bird weighed three hundred pounds, and

it

spoke well for

its

leg muscles that

could go at the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour.

it

AKOTIIER FAILURE

*Too big/ grumbled Jack legs,

;

so

?

40

Dyke

seized one of the

and together they walked away with the dead

bird, di^agging it quite

a quarter of a mile out beyond

the ostrich-pens, ready for the jackals to

play scavenger. brother, wife,

After

and they went

wliicli

in to

Dyke

returned to his

where Tanta

had prepared a substantial meal.

come and

Sal, Jack's

—

CHAPTER

V.

BIG BIRDXESTING.

OU'RE

young

a dissatisfied

dog, Dyke,'

r^i

Joe

cried

^fjmmsm:

he smiled

Enison

goorl-humoiiredly, as

down from

his brother; 'always

'I'm

You

are, boy.

spirited

when he

'

Dyke

not,' cried

free place

'

early and cool

'

Lonely

pets,

if

young and

any one could be lowstrong, out in this wide

!

Why,

enough now/ replied Dyke, 'because so horribly lonely/

;

but

I

'm always with you,' cried Emson

the best of company.

Sal,

it is

Then you

and Duke, and Breezy, and

and the oxen; while,

there's

grumbling/

on such a lovely morning.'

'It's all right it's

high horse at

indignantly.

Just as is

liis

old

if

Ooni >Schlagen

Morgenstorn out the

otlier/

Jack and Tanta

've

all

the ostriclics for

you want more company, out one

way, and

old

51

BIG lUUDXERTIXOx, *

Ugh

Stupid old Boers

1

!'

Dyke.

cried

'Well, they're civil to you, and that's ]iiore than

Oom

Schlageu

is

to me.

Dutch name.

that

painter, I

It

's

because you have got

meant you

I sa)^ father

to be a

be bound, and here yon are, an ostrich-

'11

farmer.'

'Oh

and we're going

yes,

to be very ricli

when the

birds are all dead/

'And they seem

Emson

said

as if they

sadly,

each with his

to die, all of

he rode along

a.s

rifle

meant

across his

b}' his

them/

brother,

saddle-bow,

'

I

don't

have got hold of the right way of managing

seem

to

them,

Dyke wo must :

follow nature more

the habits of the wild ones.

I

by watcliing

have tried so hard,

too.' '

Ha,

ha,

oTumblino'

ha

now

!'

laughed

Dyke

merrily.

'

Who 's

!'

'That's better, and more like yourself, old fellow/ said

more to

Emson,

smiling

down

like the light-hearted

and help me

'That's

pleasantl}'.

chap who promised to stick

You

like a brother should.

hurt me,

Dyke, when yon turn so low-spirited and sulky, plenty of troubles, though I say here; and

when

than I can

sa3^'

I see

little,

you so down,

They rode on over the open

it

over

my

worries

veldt

I 've

venture

me more

that glorious

BIO BTUDXESTrN'O.

52

morning

down '

It

some minutes, and Dyke looked

in silence for

mane.

at his horse's

makes me

feel that I liave

ing a bright, happy lad

away from home and

to this wild solitary place.

and that

better,

to feel the

it

as soon as the novelty

I

we

'vG

" I

to get

like 3'ou

on that

ou^ht to have known

I,

that,

had passed away, you would Father did w^arn me, but

to lon^ becfin o o for chano^e. fc> :

his studies

ought to have known

I

hard stern determination

him

in brinof-

was not natural for a boy

ten years older, possessed.

said to

done wron^f

'm a man, and

lie 's

only a boy

I

but

;

been together so much, and always been com-

panions,

Dyke and

'And we

I can't help getting

can't,'

cried

'Don't, please don't, Joe,

on together.

!'

»

the boy in a husky voice. old chap;

I

can't bear

it.

I 'vo been a beast.' '

Oil,

come, come,' cried Emson, leaning over to clap

him on the shoulder

'

;

mean

I didn't

to upset

you

like

that.' '

But I 'm glad you have/

tones.

'

I

know

cried

Dyke in half-suffocated

well enouo-h I liavo been a beast to

Ve been

you, Joe, and the more quiet and patient you

with me, the worse I've got, '

Oh

'

Yes,' cried

no, not so

bad as

Dyke

till

I quite hate myself.'

that.'

excitedly,

'

it 's

been worse

;

and

all

the while yon 've been the dear, good old chap to me;

53

BIG IJniDXKSThNO. just the .same

grew

tired

and

always was wlien

it

a.s

cross

when we were

I wa.s little,

and

and you took

out,

up on your back and carried me miles and miles

nie

houie.'

Why,

'

of course I did,' said

Emson, smiling.

'There's no of course in

it.

and disagreeable, and ready

to

nature

was always potty

impose on 3'our good-

but 3'oa never had an unkind word for me/

;

Well,

'

I

you were such a

little one,

and 1 was always

hm!

so '

I

can see

many

a time

it

all,

and

it 's

made me miserable

but the kinder you 've been, the worse

;

made me.

has

Joe,

You and

father always

it

and

spoiled

petted me.' '

I

Not we.

.say,

Only kind

Dyke, what games we used

never had a brother rirfit.

'Not

you '

Now

we

to you, because

till

to have!

you came.

liked you.

You

see, I

There, it's

all

then for a canter.'

Dyke.

yet,' said

'I feel as

if

I could talk to

this morning.'

But you have

talked,

and

it 's all

over

now

;

so

come

along.'

'No/

cried

Dyke

firmly,

and he caught

his brothers

rein.

here, or

am

'I am, this morning,' said the bo}', looking

up

'I say, old chap, are

you the boss

I

V

in his

54

BIG lilKDNESTlNG. big manly face.

Lrotlier's

want you

I

'

to listen to

me/ *

been like

'It's

thinking

rather drearily '

You

'

;

get

it ovov.'

way

I've got in a bad

did, nothinoj

enough,

true

's

's

of

been so disappointing, and

It's all

lately.

that

Yes,

let

this, Joe.

no matter what one *

and

Wellj go ahead then,

came

rio'ht,'

EmsoUj

chap,' said

old

and we have tried precious hard/

have, Joe, and

Ve been a

I

regular

sulky,

disappointed sort of brute/ *

Coat been a

Dyke, old chap, eh

bit rough,

Out

?

of sorts/ '

say '

Just as

if

I didn't

wanting

my

in

know.

'And

—

sorry

I will try

We 've

now/

been chums so

took to

first

— I can't

me when

fellow, all legs like a colt,

to

big paw.

again, old un,

am

but, Joe, I

and you were a pretty

always fist

;

man, ever since you

was a big stupid

ugly,

head

as I should like to, but I

it

long, old I

my

I suppose in

and we

little

golden-haired chap,

chubby

stick

your

There,

it 's all

right.

going to do

it yet,

're

and as

soft

you'll forgive me, Joe?' said

Dyke

little

Old times eh V earnestly.

'Forgive you?' cried Emson, looking at his brother

with Ids big pleasant manly face along with you 'I will try

!

What

now and

is

all in \vrinkles.

there to forgive

help you, Joo

;

*

Get

V

I will, indeed/

JUG iUKDXKSTING.

*0f

cour.se

you

will,

huskily too; 'and

cluip/

olf.l

you and

if

win

I can't

yet, iu spite

nobody can/

of those jolly old stilt-stalkers,

we

Yes,

cried Joe, n little

sun and the disease and the wicked ways

of the hot

*

OJ

win,

will

cried

Joe,'

Dyke

enthusiasti-

cally.

'That's your sort!' cried

good long hunt,

and

try,

as, I

Emson.

'We'll have a

the ostriciies don't j^ay, we'll

if

know, we've got plenty

of

room out here: grow

we'll have an elephant farm instead, and

ivory,

and have a big warehouse for making potted elephant to send

Who

's

and

sell at

home

going to give up, eh

this canter

?

ting fidgety.

The

a breakfast appetiser.

for

Now,

?

want a breather

horses

I say, feel better

what about

then,

— they

'lo

get-

now, old chap, don't

you V

Dyke pinched '

his lips together

So do I.— Hero

He

What

!

's

and nodded

shortly.

that V

checked his horse, and pointed far away in the

distance. *

Ostrich

'Yes, I

she

is

!'

cried

Dyke.

saw her

rise

and

start

off!

I can see the spot

going.

and must keep

my

eyes on

it.

for a pound.

That means luck

along steady.

Lucky

I

My

word! how

where she got up,

There

's

a nest there,

this morning.

brought the

net.

Come

Wliy, Dyke,

5G

l^IO

old cbap, the tide

's

15IUDNEST1NG.

going to turn, and we shall do

it

yet.' *

But the goblin

'Good

It s

came

my

dead/ There's as good ostriches in the

job, too.

desert as ever of tish.

's

out,

belief

though they are fowl instead

we

shall snatch

out of that

nest a better game-cock bird than ever the goblin was,

and without

Dyke

felt

did, for his

His

feelino's

o

satisfied

his temper.

Come

along.'

when

glad of the incident occurring

mind was

in a peculiar state just then.

He

were niinoied. o

by having

and

relieved

felt

shifted sometliing off his mind, but

same time there would come a sense

at the

it

of false

shame, and a fancy that he had behaved childishly,

when

it

fession

was

as

brave and manly a speech

—as ever came from Ids

All the same, on they rode.

— that

lips.

And now

the sky looked

brighter; there seemed to be an elasticity in

Breezy had never carried

con-

Dyke

tlie

air.

so well before, and a

sensation came over him, making;

must shout and sing and slacken

him

feel

his rein,

that he

and gallop

as hard as the cob could go.

'Yohoy there! fast,

steady, lad,' cried

or I shall lose the spot.

un, keeping

It

's

Emson

;

*not so

hard w^ork,

little

your eye on anything, with the horse

pitching j-Qu up and down.'

'

lilG

lUKDNKSTlNG.

57

was no

Harel work, indeed, for there

tree, bush, or

wxre taking, and by

hillock out in the direction they

which the young Englishman could mark down the spot where he imagined the nest to be.

So Dyke slackened speed, and with bing in steadily

a

pleasantly

on beside

liis

exhilarated

Emson's way of

fashion,

brother, feeling

fellow were the boy once

used to tease and

his heart tlirob-

whom

more

chased

be

speaking,

as

the big

if

as a child he

playfully in

too,

rode

lie

enhanced

return.

the feel-

ing. '

I say, little un,' he cried,

no nest after

you

You

all.

'

what a game

w^on't

be

there

's

disappointed, will

?

'Of course

not.'

"Member me

climbing the big elm at

of the home-close to o'et the ma^^'s nest '

if

To be

sure I

'Didn't think

tlie

bottom

V

do.'

we two would ever

in Africa then, did

m

bird's-nestino;

we V

'No; but do you think there

is

a nest out yonder,

Joe r 'I do/ cried

about the

last

Emson, 'I've seen several few days

;

but

I

never could

which way they came or went. lookout, too, for one

risin;]^

heii

birds

make

out

I've been on the

froui the j^'round.'

58

lilUDNKSTlNG.

JJiG

'

'

But

is

this a likely place for a nest

Well, isn't

it

I

?

should say

Now, just look: here we a bird can S(|uat

twenty miles

for

direction,

a

down

lion,

—

if

?'

it s

are in an open plain, where

in the sand

and look around

can see so far

slie

and see danger coming, whether

and

or a jackal,

shuffle

ofi'

it

make

Of course

out where she rose.

every a man,

it 's

make

gets near enough to

is

know

I don't

Ave shall find the nest, if there is one.

hard enough

home

—in

her nest, and

tracks long before whatever

whether

the very spot.

to find a lark's or a partridge's nest at

an open

in

course, big

It s

field

of forty or fifty acres

though the nest

is,

and the

so of

;

bird, it's

a

deal harder, out in a field hundreds of miles square, ell?' '

Of course

'

'Scuse

it is.'

my

not looking round at you when I 'm

speaking, old chap; but I shall

never find

it

if

I take

my

eye off the spot,

again.'

Dyke,

'I say, don't be so jolly particular, Joe,' cried laughinQ". '

Why

not

?

It

's

just

wbat you and

I

ought to

said the big fellow with simple earnestness.

out here in a savage land, but

we

don't

into savages, nor yet to be as blunt beai-s.

I'm not

iioing^

to

forsiet

want

'

that

the

We 're

to

and gruff

be,'

grow

as

two

dear old

— 59

BIG JUBDNKSI'ING.

governor at home roui^h *

'

they re regular ruffians, Joe.

*

Oh no

things

away

I

say

see the

:

yet.'

You

isn't one.

me

couldn^t have seen

it

at

cauu'ht

We

But

sio'lit

if

Why,

and that

woman

3^ou talked

in the

here.

same

's

But

in

some

rhyme

I say breeding,

if

you take

it

in

said.'

Then there may

V

Why, you know how a

lot of

them lay

nest.'

'At home, shut up in pens, but not on the

'Why,

this

off

?'

about hen birds.

be more than one nest

Not

was

precious cunning in others.'

then, there's no nest. ;

makini''

and they are

stupid,

they were only feeding

time, as the old

But

're

that one

of

them

call

but they

;

It

?

that I 've seen the birds about^ and

and not feeding

'

—

I never said I could see the nest, did I

morning.

'

sons do

that distance.'

that I

*

a mile

it 's

;

enough for

*

Iii.s

V

'Then there all

if

out here/

it

Till

nest

a gentleuiun, even

is

of course they do,

the bears and lions in

and

Dr

'tis

Watts.

everything quite yet, old chap.

If

veldt.'

their nature to, like

don't

know

you took the

glass,

You

and came and lay out here for two or three days and nights,

and always supposing the birds didn't see you

GO

BIG IJIRDNESTING.

because

it'

they did they

go somewhere

else

—you

'd

'd see first

and then another, perhaps they

'd

be desertnif^ the

packed the nest as

one hen come to lay

them

six of

and when

;

would

full as it

banked up round the eggs

the sand

and

ne.st

to

hold,

with

keep them

tight in their places with the points downwards, so as

you 'd

to be close,

her turn, sitting

see

all

hen after hen come and take

day, while the cock bird comes

and takes his turn, because he

at nights

's

bigger and

and better able to pitch into the prowling

stronger,

jackals/ '

How

did you

know

Joe V

all this,

'Partly observation, partly from

Jack

say,' replied

modestly.

daresay you

I

useful.

i)i

Emson

^^^on't

what I've heard

'

Everything comes

repent saving up

those odds and ends of stones and shells and

you 've got

'Why,

I

at

than '

eo-o-s

home/

often

nuisance, Joe.

all

thought you'd

I did

see

they were a

feel

you laugh

at

them more

once.'

Smile, old man, smile

mio-ht cjrow a reo-ular

—that

museum

's

all.

I like

it.

You

out of small bei^innino-s

like that.'

'Then we ought

to

have stuffed the

goblin,' cried

Djdce merrily. *0h, come, no; that wouldn't

do.

Our

tin house

'

:

01

BIG BIRONESTING. isn't

the British

and

bits of ore

Museum but ;

I

would go on

You may

things.

find

collecting

something worth

having one of these days, besides picking up a

I'd put that piece of old iron the ostrich

knowledge.

swallowed

alono- witli

Would you

'

'Yes; but

the

rest.'

?

now

We

old chap.

up

lot of

let's

have

no tongues,

eyes, anct

all

are getting near whei^e that bird got

off the nest.' '

If there

'

If

was

one.'

there was one/ assented Emson.

'

Now

think you're mushrooming out in the old

home, and see

now

if

you

can't find the nest.

a couple of hundred

j'ai'ds,

then

field

at

Move

off*

and keep your eyes

open/

Dyke

out his

followed

brother's

advice,

and for

the next hour tliey rode over the ground here and there, to

and

fro,

and across and

sandy depressions,

till

and shouted to Dyke,

across, scanning tlie

Emson suddenly drew

who was

rein,

a quarter of a mile

away.

Dyke

sent his cob off at a gallop and joined him.

*

Found

'

No, old fellow.

it?'

he cried excitedly, It

's

a failure this time,

Man wants

sharp eyes to get the better of an ostrich. sure

we

should

c:et

it,

but

we 're

done.

I

inade

We 've

BIG BIRDNKSTtNG.

G2

been over

tlie

c^round times enoiiofh, and

of no

it s

use.' '

we

What! give up V 'd find

nest, '

*

if

it

I try

eo'o-s

we

afraid

now

;

it

un,'

little

spirit,

mean

to

have that

shouted

Emson,

lan^'hino-.

and

I should like to liave

would have started us on

shall be

where

I

saw the

we may wander

waste

But

a!:jain.

wasting time, for we

of the position

this great

'Didn't say

merrily.

to-morrow morning.'

till

That's the right

the

Dyke

time, but I

first

tlie

Well done,

cried

I

'm

count

've lost

biirl rise,

had

and

in

farther and farther

awa3\' *

But we can

by the hoof-marks where we

tell

've

been.' '

Yes

down

lie

come

've

pretty well examined the ground.

you what, we '11 bring the

I tell

and

and we

;

watchin^:^

to the nest,

and one

till

dark.

and then we

'11

glass this evening,

We may

see a bird

mark down

the place,

shall stop back, while the other rides forward,

and number one can telegraph which way

to

go witi

1

his arms.' 'I

am

disappointed,* said

him over the '

So

am

I,

only putting *

Dyke, looking round about

level plain.

old chap, but it off.

we won't be damped.

It

's

—What arc you looking at?'

That,' said Dj-ke

;

and, kicking his nag's sides, he

BIG r.TUDNESTTNG.

went

oil:'

at a canter for a couple

ot*

08

hundred yards, and

then sent up a joyous shout. *

Why, he has found there

up,

it

cried Euison

!'

;

and

gallopinq-

Dyke, flushed and happy, beside a

sat

depi'ession in tho sand, evidently scraped out,

and with

the sand banked round to keep the eggs in their places.

There they

number, neatly

were, thirt^^-nine in

all

arranged with their points downward, while outside

were several more, and on found that

were

tliey

all

Dyke bending down, he

of a comfortable temperature;

those lying outside being cold, and apparently freshly laid.

*Well,

you have

his brother

eyes, old chap!' cried

on the shoulder, and then proceeding to

meshed net from behind

loosen a coarsely '

Bravo,

We

'11

Dyke

get these

of our hens. lot of '

If

Emson, slapping

I

I

told

home

you the

at once

tide

his saddle.

bad

turned.

and put them under one

Shouldn't wonder

if

we

get a nice

little

chicks from these.'

we can

o-et

'Oh, we'll do

them home without breakincr/ that,'

cried

Emson, disniountino- and

spreading out the net upon tho sand before they began carefully removing the spoil of the nest

—that

is

to say,

the eggs, which evidently contained chicks.

This done, the net was folded over and tied here

and there

so as to

form a

lontx bag^,

the ends fastened

BIG BIRDNESTIXG.

64 securely

and each taking an end, they mounted, and

;

now

swinging between them the huge bag, which

weighed nearly a hundredweight, started for home.

They

the new-laid eggs to be fetched that evening,

left

or next morning, leaving

them just

were spread,

as they

looking clean and fresh, about the outside of the nest,

much

to

Why,

^

'We

Dyke's regret.

manage them

w^e could

might, but

them up with the

if

others,

we pnt them under whereas

if

we

too,'

he

said.

we should have mixed

did

which would be a pity;

for

if

a bird, they would only be addled,

we keep them

separate, the}- will be good

either to set under another hen, or to eat.

They

will not

liurt there/

Dyke

said

no more, but held on tightly

to the

end

of the net, helping his brother to keep their horses a sufficient distance apart, so that the

keep well

by the '

off the

ground, and not be shaken too

much

horses' gentle pace.

Wonder what

said

egg purse might

Dyke

the yoimg birds think of their

merrily.

'We

shall

ride,'

have one of them

chipping an egg presently, and poking out his head to see

what's the matter, and

why

things are getting

so cold.' *

Cold, in this scorching sun!' said

would hatch them

out.

Hold

tiii'ht.'

Emson

;

'why

it

BIO BTimXKSTING.

'Right

it

isT cried

what a smash '

Ah,

it

it

woukl be

Steady, boy disposed

in seafaring style.

!'

tired,

we'll

he continued to his increase

to

but you won't.

* ;

and

Cry

change hands.

Iiorse,

whicli seemed

and

speed,

its

'I say,

ao V

if I let

would/ said Emson

when you're

stop

Dyke

65

they

jogged

gently along again.

always used to read that the ostriches did lay

'I

their eggs in the sand

and leave tliem for the sun

to

hatch.'

'There

is

some truth in

said

it/

Emson; 'but the

writers didn't get to the bottom of

hatch them

would

chill

if

it

'

The sun would

it.

kept on shining, but the cold nights

the eggs and undo

all

the day's woi'k.

of a night that the birds sit closest.

now

old

—Like

to

It's

change

?'

Yes

Dyke

;

:

they are getting heavy for one's

and the great purse was lowered

the e(f^^ elickinfx torfethcr as

if

made

to the ground,

of china.

the brothers changed places and hands net; the horses

hung apart

wrist,' said

;

Then

raised

the

again, and the slow journc}T

was resumed. 'Gently 'If

!'

cried

Dyke

before they had gone very

you hang away so hard,

I shall

far.

be dragged out of

the saddle.'

The tension was

relaxed, and they

E

went on again

BIG BlilDNESTJNO,

G6

riding by slow degrees back to Kopfontein, wliich they

with

reached

finally

heavy and

their

load

fragile

intact.

Dyke was hungry rested

enough, but they neither ate nor

were borne into one

their eggs

till

where three hens and

their

husband had a nest whicl

contained only ten eggs, and these were addled, for the time

—

deal ..^ of „^

and

hissino.....,...._j

beginning to roar like a

round the '

net,

known

\

to be

was long past for hatching; and

upon the brothers approaching the o-reat ^..„ ^,

of the pens

lion,

nest, there

cackling,

was a

cock

the

bird

and stalking menacingly

which he kept on inspecting curiously.

Be on the lookout

for a kick/ said

Emson, as the

net was lowered.

'Oh, he won't kick

me

— will

you, old chap?' cried

Dyke, giving the large bird a playful poke, 'which had the as

if

ribs.

effect of

sending him off remonstrating angrily,

he resented such

liberties beino-

taken with his

For he turned when he reached the

stood flutterincc his short wino-s,

cluckiniiC.

fence,

and

and makincf

thrcateninoj o*estures with his head.

The hen bird

sittino-

was much more amenable

to

their approach, for, after a little persuasion, she rose in a

very stately waj% blinked her rather human-look-

ing, eye-lashed

optics,

and stalked

to the other

to stand with them, hissing and cackling a

little,

wives while

BIG BIRDXr.STING.

C7

the bad eggs were reiiioveJ and the fresh thirty-nine

were put in

place,

tlieir

Emson arranging them

as

he could in accordance with the bird's

reguhirly as habits.

But

Dyke handed them

as

had hard work to

o-et

him one by

to

them

one, they

on account of the

in

impatience disphxyed by the wives, two of wliich dis-

played a great eagerness to have ful,

and needing

kept

to be

Then began a severe

first sit

upon

tlie

nest-

off until all M'ere ready.

quarrel,

and a good deal

of

pecking before the 3-oungest and strongest succeeded in

mounting upon the

as to

o'et ^

--

them more

nest, shuffling the eggs

in accordance w^ith her

the fitness of things, and then,

she settled

up the

when

down with her plumage

eggs, ^yhile the other birds

all

about so

own

idea of

\vcre in order,

regidarly covering

now looked

on.

'Do you double up your perambulators V said Dyke mockingl3^

'

madam,

Yes,

I see

you do

;

but pray

don't put a toe through either of the shells.'

The hen uttered a strangely noise, as if in reply,

kind of

and there was a peculiar look

satisfaction about the

the

soft clucking

of

huge tame creature as she covered

o'ifvantic clutch.

'So they aren't the}^

are,' ?

—

said

— Dyke 'something

I say, look at the others,'

as tliey stalked off to

like

eggs,

he continued,

go appai-ently to discuss the new

;

68

BIG BIIinNERTIN'a

arrivals with the cock bird over at the other side of

the enclosure.

'There/ said Emson, yon can have these addled cg^s ^

cleaned out, Dyke, and

them.

When

shall

we '11 make

we

fetch

di'inking cups of

the other

lot

?

This

evcnmir r *

If

you

like.'

'No; we'll leave

it

till

nao"S a rest.'

r^-

'H

^_^

/^^frm^

to-morrow, and

cfive

the

CHAPTER

VI.

LIONS AT HOME.

PJORTUNE Emson country,

wagon,

smiled hor brightest upon Joseph

when

they

travelling

for

months

Kopfontein,

till

came

first

Tailing spring in the granite chasm,

with

was

up in

its

tlie

their

never-

settled

upon

as being a capital place to earvy out the idea of the

ostrich-farm.

Then

tlie

in course of time pens

rough house was run up, and

and other enclosures made, and

by very slow degrees stocked with the gigantic principally

by

lielp

of

Kaffir

servants

;

birds,

Jack show-

ing himself to be very clever in finding nests of

eo-o-s,

but afterwards proving lazy and indifferent, excusingliimself

on

tlie

plea that 'Baas got

all

eggs.

No

more.

All gone.' It

seemed to be a capital

idea,

and promised plenty

of success, for at first the feathers

they obtained from

LtOXS AT

70

IIO.ME.

the Kaffirs sold well, making"

down

to

cai^ital prices

Thea

Cape Town.

and when

native hunters began to

fail

young farmers had plumes

to sell of their

prices

had gone down

Then he began

hen or two

to lose hiy birds

;

and

own

raising,

his venture.

by

destructive propensities of the goblin old

at last the

and Enison saw plainly

terribly,

enough that he was losing by

sent

supply from the

the

;

when

accideJit,

by

tlie

and a vicious

souie kind of epidemic,

lastly,

which they dubbed ostrich chicken-pox, carried the

young birds

oft'

wholesale.

Then Dyke began and soon

his brother

a whole

year

worse

;

Emson

not time to

to

be damped, and grew

became low

matters

spirited too,

and for

had gone on from bad

often asking- himself whether

make

dull,

it

to

was

a fresh start, but always coming to

the same frame o£ mind that

was

too soon to be

beaten yet, and keeping a firm upper

lip in the pre-

it

sence of his brother.

The mornino-

after the findini:' of the ostrich's nest,

they started again, taking the net, and keeping a keen lookout in the hope of discovering another. 'There's no reason '

I 've

why we

should

been too easy with Jack

;

not,' said

Emson.

he has not disturbed

the birds around for months/ '1 think

we can

iind the nest again,' said D3'ke.

LIONS AT IIOME.

Why

'

not

We 11

?

find

by the

But

any other way.

cannot

it

71 i'uotiiuirks,

think

I

can

I

we

it*

ride

ytraight to it/

They kept a sharp lookout, but no and sped aw^ay

in the distance

seen lying

on the

out

right

plain, to

up

About

like tlic wind.

home; though, something

from

miles

six

ostrich sprang

was

else

which Dyke

pointed.

A

'

bird

V

cried Euison.

Why, Dyke, shall

we do ?

go

r

off '

one

is

shot,' said

Then perhaps we had

'

What let

;

'Very

's

piece,

;

What

of them.

better let

them

come and pull down one

to

a beast.

them

let

the boy excitedly.

*

Why,

alone.'

of the oxen.

have a shot at them.'

w^ell/ said

Emson

quietly; 'but see that

have a couple of bullets in your

He

No

fellow.'

'

No

two

it.

Creep in and try a shot, or

a big-maned

i

Yes, I see

old chap, there are

should try a

I

'

rifle.

Make

you

sure.'

example by opening the breech of

set the

Ids

and carefully examining the cartridges before

replacing them. '

All right,' he cried'

and smart, fast,

if

*

No'w, look here, Dyke.

Be ready

the brutes turn upon us to charge.

and give Breezy

overtake him.

his

head then.

No

Sit

lion w^ould

Only you must be prepared

for

a

LIONS AT IIOMK.

72

wheel round, for

sliarp roar,

your cob

But no

will spin

the brutes couie on witli a

if

about like a teetotum.'

was

satisfactory shot

they were about a quarter of a

maned

obtained, for

niile

away, a

big,

when dark-

lion rose to his feet, stood staring at theiii for

nearly a minute, and then started off at a canter, closely followed by

Dyke say, '

looked sharply round at his brother, as

'Come on

Not

companion.

its

!'

before

we

too,

to

his head.

to-day, old chap,' he cried.

would mean,

It

Emson shook

but

if

*

We 're

too busy.

a long gallop, tiring our horses

could get a shot, and tlien

we

should not be

good condition for aiming.'

in *

Oh, but, Joe, I daresay that

killed tlie white ox,

and he

is

the wretch that

hani'inu'"

is

about after

another.' '

To be sure

'Come

on.

:

I forgot that,' cried

But steady: we

so let's canter,

and follow

Emson

excitedly.

can't lose sight of them,

till

they stand at bay or

sneak into the bushes.'

That was more

to

followed the two

Dyke's lions,

taste,

as the

and

side

by

side they

great tawny-looking

beasts cantered over the plain, their heads down, tails

drooping, and looking, as

Dyke

said,

wonderfully like

a couple of great cats sneaking off after being found out stealing cream.

LIONS AT HOME.

There was no need to be

73 and Dyke kept on

silent,

shouting remarks to his brotlier as they cantered on

over the dry bush and sand. *I don't think nuich of lions, after '

they

're

Joe/ he said;

all,

not half kings of beasts

you

like

see

in

pictures and read of in books.'

'You haven't seen one

in

a rage, old fellow/ said

Enison good-huniouredly. '

I

were/ said

me

to

much

don't believe they VI be anything

Dyke contemptuously.

after a mouse.

Now

'They always seem

and sneaking about

to be creeping

they

if

look at those o-reat

like

a cat

stfont>* thing's

going off like that, as soon as they see us, instead of roaring at us and driving us away.' '

Smell powder,

perhaps,

and

are

afraid

the

of

guns.' '

Well, but

if

they did, that

Why, when they

lion, Joe.

killed the white ox, there

were four of them, and they did don't believe

when vou

being brave as a

isn't

it

in the

dark.

I

shot that the bullet went near

either of the brutes.' '

No, but

'They

w^e scared

them

killed the poor old bullock

'Well, didn't that give

strength '

Let

's

off.'

;

first,

though.*

you a good idea

the poor beast's neck

was

of a lions

broken.'

show them to-day that we are

stronger,

and

'

LIONS AT HOMK.

74

'Look out: they're

break their necks/ said D}'ke.

For

gone/

two great beasts suddenly plunged

tlie

into a patch of broken ground,

among

granite stood up from

where great blocks

of

the bushes, and sheltered

them with larger growth. was the only

It

liiding-placo in sight,

the lions had niade^ anel

We

'

shan't get a shot at

Euison

We '

' ;

want

they

Duke

old

;

where

it's

are quite open,

no riding in

Oh, I

'11

take

but mind to get

among

those bushes.

•

I

'

know

that place

found the aardvark, and the bushes

I

am

sure

we can it,

see

we'll

them/ try; but

mind

— notliing rash, 3^ou know/ care,' ciied

Dyke,

*

ride right at them,

so

much about

I shan't get hurt.

and they

11

run/

that, old cocksure;

horses are horses, and I don't want you

this,

Breezy clawed/

And

I

n^ierry legs

don

V

nag's neck.

eh

old chap/ cried

I

You only have to 'I don't know

'

here/

Well, as you're so set on

this, *

them now,

as snug as rats

lie

this

disappeared.

Oh, don't give up/ cried Dyke.

well

'

now

and for

t

want

to get

cried the boy, '

him clawed

— do

bending forward

I,

old

to pat his

Sooner get scratched myself, wouldn't

I,

?

The

little

horse tossed up

its

head and shook

its

mane, and then taking his master's caress and words to

LIONS AT

moan a

upon him fur

call

and had

It '

is

off',

Dyke,

boy,' cried

Enisoii

;

'do you

V

'Please '

he da.^hed

effort;

i'rc.^h

to be checked.

'Stead)', yteady, Jiear

75

aoiMi*:.

sii-,

it

wasn't uie/ replied the boy merrily.

was him/

No

nonsense V cried Enison sternly.

'

Steady

This

!

not play.'

Dyke

once

glanced

at

rode up, and saw that

it

brother's

his

he

as

face

looked hard, earnest, and

fin a.

'All right, Joe,' he said quietly

;

mind/

'I will

The next minute they had cantered gently up the patch,

which was only about an acre

to

in extent,

and the bushes so thin and scattered that they could see nearly across

But '

thex'e

Look

where the

was no

here,

Joe

;

siijn

lions

had entered.

of the cunning' beasts.

you ride round that way, and

I

'II

go this; then we are sure to see them/ *

Capital

general I see

!

plan,' said

weaken your

them

Enison forces

sarcasticallj'.

by

one-half,

hitting me.

Try

Bi'avo,

and then

I can't fire for fear of hitting you,

can't fire for fear of

*

if

and you

again, clever

one/

'Oh, tone.

all right,

you

try,'

said

Dyke, in an offended

LIONS AT HOME.

76

'Ride round with

No, you go/ said

'Come

then, eitlier five yards in front

Will you go

or five behind. '

nie,

Dyke

first

distantly.

Keep

along, then.

you get a good chance

?'

a sharp lookout, and

at the shoulder

—

if

Not

lire.

without.'

'Very

They won't

Emson; and

shortly, 'but 3'ou sec

and gallop away on the other

don't sneak out '

Dyke

well,' said

leave cover

if

thc}^

can help

if

they

side.' it,'

said

his woi'ds proved true, for as they rode

slowly round with finger on trigger, scanning the openthe cunning; brutes i^Uded in and out anionu: the

u\<XHy

crawled through the bushes, so

great boulders, and

that not a glimpse of them could be obtained.

'There!' cried Dyke, after they had ridden round twice.

'

knew

I

side,

they

They

're

've crept

miles

'Exactly

!'

away

said

are so uneasy. fast as

I

While we were talking on one

it.

out on the other and gone

off!

now.'

Emson; 'and

that's

I say, little un,

you

why

the horses

don't get on so

should like with your hunting knowledge.

Loo]v at Breezy.'

Dyke

glanced at his cob, and the

plainly enough

be

its

by

its

little

horse showed

movements that whatever might

master's opinion,

it

was

feeling convinced that

the lions were prett}' close at hand.

LIONS AT JTOME.

what

Well,

'

'No/

said

shall

Emson

we do

we must

As wc

never get a shot.

through V

ri
decidedly, 'that would be invitino-

I 'm afraid

a charge.

—

77

we

separate, or

round one

ride

shall

side, tliey

creep along on the other.'

'Did you see them V '

No, but look

thei^e/

Dyke looked where plainly

marked

Ids

brother pointed, and saw

in the soft sand the footprints of the

lions.

'Well, let's separate,

said

tiien,'

mind and not shoot your way,

'I'll

boy eagerly.

tlie if

you'll take care

not to hit me.' '

Very good unless

fire

:

we

'11

then

try,

but be careful not to

Look here;

you get a good sure chance.

will be the best plan.

this

;

One

of us

must

sit

fast

here while the other rides round.' '

But the one wdio stops

the i^ame stop

will

will get the best chance, for

be driven towards

him.

Who 's

?' ;

Emson

thrust

Iiis

hand

into his pocket, and

drew

out ao'ain clenched. o

'Somethinix or nothino* '

'

to

Nothing,' said Nothino-,

'Then

I'll

Dyke

Rirrht.

?'

he cried.

sharply.

Your

stay here?'

chance,' said

Emson.

it

'

'

LTOXS AT HOME.

78

Very well then

'

lions will

tlie

sneak round

and then they

'II

cover and gallop Rio'ht

be ready.

;

There

they find yon are here, right

's

and

sliall I'idc aliead,

break

or

aci^oss,

every cliance for a

sliot.

forward in the shoulder, mind/

'

Won't charge

'

Not unless they

—' Ready '

go

either

off.

till

1

nie, will tliey

?

wounded,'

're

Emson.

replied

?

Yes/

Emson crying

rode slowly

Here

'

!

at

'

off,

and

every

as

he went he kept on

half-dozen

giving his brother a good

idea of

yards

or

his position

so,

and

that of the lions too.

Meanwhile Dyke, with

his heart beginning to beat

heavily, sat facing in the other direction, both barrels of his rifled piece cocked

and pointed forward,

nostrils

distended like those of his horse, and, also like the animal, with every sense on the alert.

'Here

—here —

here,'

came

fi^om

beyond him, and

gradually working more and more to the

Dyke, felt a great deal more respect and

darini!!:

The

of lions than

stillness,

lie

left,

while

for the prowess

did half an hour before.

broken only by

his brother's recurring

ci'y,

repeated with such regularity', seemed awful, and

the

deep low sigh uttered by Breezy sounded quite

startlinof

;

but

tliere

was

nothincj

else

— no

sound of

LTOXS AT HOME.

79

the powerful cats coinini^ cautiouslj' round, Avincling

and out among; the rocks and bushes, and not a

in

twiir

was

'Here

stirred.

—here —here/

gripping the saddle

a curious

quiver

with his

tightly

pass

into

sat

knees, feeling

from

liim

Dyke

and

kept coming,

the

horse's

excited nerves, as the swift little beast stood gazing

before tlie

it

at the ragged shrubs,

sim

sliii'htest

neck, and

ready to spring away on

The

dano-cr.

of

rein lay

or left of tliose

warning ears at the

veldt

down and

glancing trees

the

but

hot;

still

on

his

tlie

was

there

—here —here/

regular 'Here

right,

making

right

fire to

first cliance.

There w^as the clump on the boy's of

its

ears were cocked rio-ht forward, while

its

Dyke's double barrel was held ready to

ground

upon

left,

the open

and

the

sun

of

the

but

the

leaves nothing'

uttered in Emson's deep

l^ass. '

Tliey

sense of *

're

gone/ said D3d
relief,

They would

wlneli

made

liis

ha\'c been here

breath come more freely.

by now%

I

'II

shout to

Joe.'

But he did

not.

For at

tliat

moment

faintest of faint rustles about a

One

tliero M^as

dozen yards in front.

of the thin bushes cfrcw c^radually darker,

D3d':e liad

L

the

and

-

a glimpse of a patch of rongh

liair

raised

!

80

LIONS AT HOME.

above the leaves.

Then Breezy

in an instant '

Hoio

two

lions started up.

— Haiigh

hounded out

started violently, and

/'

was roared

of the bushes,

The maneless

out.

lion

and went away over the

sand in a series of tremendous leaps, while the companion, a huge beast with darkly-tipped mane, leaped as if

and faced the boy, with head

to follow, but stopped

and

erect

tail

lashin^^

from

side

horse stood paralysed with fear,

while

to side,

the

legs far apart, as

its

bear the coming charge, and every nerve and

if to

muscle on the quivei\

Dyke

knowing that he ought

to

fire,

were suffering from nightmare, before

moments,

sat motionless during those brief

him gave vent

to

but feeling as till

if

he

the majestic beast

a tremendous roar, turned,

and bounded away.

Then Dyke's power

of action

came back.

Quick as

a flash, his piece was to his shoulder, and he fired;

but the lion bounded onward, hidden for the time

by the smoke; yet

as

it

cleared away, the boy liad

another clear view of the beast end on, and

fired

once

more.

At

this there

was a savage

snarl

;

the lion

bound sidewise, and then swunix round as back

at

its

speed, but

assailant,

when Breezy

had not gone

fifty

tore

if

made

a

to chariife

off

at full

yards before another

LIONS AT HOME.

Dyke

shot rang out, and

81

round to see his

looked

brother dismounted and kneeling on the sand, while

was

the lion

trailing itself along with its hind-quarters

paralysed.

In another minute Enison had remounted an.d ridden

up

dangerous beast; there was another report

to the

from

and the

quarters,

close

lion

and

over

rolled

straightened itself out.

'Dead?'

Dyke

cried

excitedly,

he

as

mastered

Breezy's objections, and rode up. '

Yes

he

;

cried his brother.

him

'Think '

Think

prove

'

He

is

last shot of

'

must have

bullet

dead, isn't he

You

hit

?

'

said

Dyke

we

blade.

s

Your

are.

up the back here

and here

;

him end

be,'

said

on.

Emson, dismount-

bullet cauglit

horse's

head.

him half-way

one of mine hit him in the

side,

the other rig;ht throuo-h the left shoulder-

That means

regularly

can easily

dubiously.

and throwinnf his rein over his

'Yes; here

stopped

his left flank.'

'As dead as he can well ini:^,

You

!

yours brought him

Emson, laughing.

said

Mine were on *

uu

little

him, then?*

Your

it.

Well done,

finish.'

I hit ?

'

That

splendidly.

up for me to

no more of our oxen, old chap/

kill

'11

paralysed

But that shot

finis.

him

behinfl.

F

Your

of yours

lion,

little

LIONS AT HOME.

82

un, and that skhi will do for your

museum.

It

's

a

is

a

beauty/ '

But

yoih killed him,' said the

'

Put

hiui

out of his misery, that

splendid fellow, though. little *

'

un.

But

boy modestly.

—Let

get

's

his skin

? '

Now

this

for the

He

on.'

said

Dyke

eagerly. this

evening with Jack, and

ecj^s.'

all.

But he won't run away now,

Too hard a job now, Dyke, under

come over

's

sun.

We

strip that

'11

off.

CHAPTER LIFE ON

HE

Vir.

THE VELDT.

task of finding the emptied ostrich newt

proved harder thun they expected their

ride

made

interesting

across

the

barren

by the

:

plain

but

was

sight of a herd

gnus and a couple of the beautiful black antelope,

of

with their long, gracefully curved, sharp horns. before

Just

reaching the nest, too, they had the rather

unusual sight, in their part, of half-a-dozen giraffes,

which went

off

in

their

awkward, lumberino-

trot

toward the north.

At

last,

though, the nest was reached, the scattered

eggs gathered into the net, and heedless of these chinking together a

little,

as they

hung between them, they

cantered on.

'Won't do them any good shaking them up it

'

\

said

Dyke.

so, will

'

'

LIFE ON THE VELDT.

S4.

'

'

given up

1 've

I should say

all

idea of setting these/ said Euison.

would be very doubtful whether they

it

would hatch, and we want a

We

of feeding, old fellow.

and which are

change in

little

way

which are addled,

see

'11

tlie

not.'

Tanta Sal was at the door as they rode up, and her face

expanded

mouth, at the

largely, especially about the eyes sio-ht

'I say, look

you ever

the

ol:

at Tant,'

es:(j:s.

Dyke

said

from our point i

Beautiful

Tastes

*

She

's

not beautiful

Emson,

'No doubt

'

of view.'

!

differ, .old

chap/

said

Jack thought her very nice-looking. admire small mouths and

little

evident that the Kaffirs do not small

'Did

merrily.

?

see such a face

Never/ replied Emson quietly.

*

and

mouth should be more

waists.

and

;

English people It

is

I don't see

very

why

a

beautiful than a large

one/

is

*

And

'

Certainly not, and

t

so

much it

is

of

it,'

cried

Dyke.

not so useful

No Tant :

not handsome, but she can cook, and I don't believe

that in

there isn

Venus could have fetched water from the spring

two buckets half so well/ 'Don't suppose she could, or

Dyke, laughing.

made

fires either,' said

LTFK ON THE VELDT.

'Very good, then, looking enough for

and keep them

us.

cool.

Tant

un.

little

— Hi

85 quite

is

good-

there, old girl, take these

Cook one

The woman nodded, took the

for dinner.' net,

swung

it

over her

back, and the next minute the creamy white eggs were

seen reposing on the dark skin.

After seeing to the horses, to his brother

about ^vanting his corn

quietly round to the back,

the

Dyke made some remark too,

and he wont

where Tant was busy over

preparing one of the eggs by cooking

fire,

it

an

not boiling in a saucepan, but making the

natAtvel,

thick shell itself do duty for one.

She looked up and showed her teeth as Dyke came in sight,

and then went on with her work, which was

that of stirring the

whose treatment was very

She had chipped a

simple.

enough deep

egg,

to

admit a

down

in the

down on her

heels

stick,

little

hole in one end, big

and had placed the other end

glowing dry cake ashes, squatting

on one side of the

fire,

while Jack

satin a similar position on the other, watching his wife as she kept

'Oh big

there

on stirring the egg with the piece of wood.

you

are,

Jack/ said Dyke; 'w^c've shot a

lion.'

'Eaaskill?'

You're

'Yes.

evenmg

?' ;

comin^f

with

us

to

skin

it

this

LIFE ON THE VKLDT.

86

The

Kaffir

shook his head, and then lowered

it

upon

one hand, making a piteous grimace.

'Jack

sick, bad,'

'Jack no

As she

sicl^

he

said.

bad/ cried Tanta, leaping up angrily.

spoke, she raised one broad black foot, and

gave her husband a sharp thrust in the result that he rolled over

ribs,

with the

and then jumped up furiously

to retaliate.

Dyke; and

'Ah, would you!' cried

had followed him, began

and see

set

'11

I

he

's

Duke

to growl.

at 3'ou,' cried

*

the dog, which

Yes,

Dyke.

you '

hit her,

Can't you

ashamed V

Jack growled

upon her

heels,

fiercely,

and

his wife reseated herself

and went on stiiTing the egg again,

laughing merrily the while. '

No

sick bad,' she said

;

and then wanting to say

somethino" more, she rattled oiT a series of words,

oom and

click, for

Jacks

all

benefit, the Kaffir listening

the while.

The egg was soon

after declared to be done,

and

formed a very satisfactory omelette-like addition to the hard biltong and mealie cake which formed the ostrichfarmers' dinner. '

I 'd

Dyke,

a deal rather as

we

'd

shot an antelope, Joe,' said

he ground away at the biltong, that popular

South African delicacy, formed by cutting fresh meat

ON THE VELDT.

LIFE into long strips, flesh

and di'ying them in the sun before the

has time to go ba'l

—a

;

but

ha.s

it

suited to the taste of those

said

it

time

is

in a torrid

rapid and salt none

is

drawbacks, and

its

who

of leather with a superlatively

'Yes,

pLm

capital

country, wliere decomposition too plentiful

87

is

best

appreciate the chewing

high flavour of game.

we had some

fresh meat, old chap/

Einson good-humouredly.

'After that

slice

of

luck with the birds, we'll try for some guinea-fowl or a springbok in the morning.'

'

but

Yes,

we

it

would be handy,

Not

olel

a bad shoe

wo

could catch any fish

many

—not enough

;

to live

days at home.'

often/ said Dyke.

A

'Well, yea

It

if

usen't to get a great

—in the *

where we could

nearer

river

Dyke, as he worked away at the dried meat.

fish/ said

on

we had a

I wish

'

sole,

'

I say, it is tough.'

well -beaten-out piece little

would not make

But about that

un.

fishing

?

would take a great many of those sticklebacks you

always would '

fish for

with a

Well, they used to bite,

carp would, Joe,

worm

to

and that

Why, you

's

make a

dish.'

more than your

only used to catch about

one a month/ '

But, then, look at the

'

Yes,

of

eat biltong.'

Hize.

only head and

One did make a

bones.

Ugh

1

dish.'

I 'd rather

'

'

'

LIFE ON THE VELDT,

88

Emson laughed good-humouredly. Well/ he

*

said,

make a hundred

How

would a

'

we

can't go fishing

But, I say, are

breast.

savage to-niglit 'I

That

*

of

we

poor old goblin's

the

go and skin that old

to

?

go with Jack, and do

'11

can't get fish.

?

lion steak eat

Worse than a cut out

'

we

miles* journey, so

without we

3'ou 're tired.'

it, if

Dyke.

3'ou won't/ cried

'But, I say, Jack

's

bad sick he says/ '

Yes, I s\>ppose

want him

He

so.

We

to work.

feeding him too well

;

generally 've

and

now, when we

is

spoiled Master Jack

wasn't for Tanta Sal,

if it

Master Jack would have to go upon his

woman

's

a treasure,

little

and wliat a wonderful

washing

shirts.

Tanta Sal would take

had a chance. '

No

:

Then

Why,

's

's

a capital cook

that

is

it

;

comes so

white or black, to

Do you know, to starchini::

That

ti'avels.

and

I

believe that

ironin^v if she

Have any more?'

done/ said Dyke, wiping his knife carefully,

and returning '

thino- it

woman, whether she

natural to a like

She

un.

by

let

's

it

to the sheath he

wore in his

belt.

go and have a look at the chickens.

the other day I felt as

if

I could

pens and say to the birds, " There, be

you 're no good."

oflT

open

all

the

with you, for

UFK ON THK *

But now you

going

're

89

^'ELOT.

have

to

good

anotlier

try/ '

Yes

and wc must give them greater

;

try to let *

And

them

We

said '

Emson.

to the

them and driving

to the pens."

mind that

shan't

Wait

'

Come

they

turn out healthy/

all

aloni^'/

summon

in smiling, cleared ;

if

I call Tant,' said

till

back to

her lord

and

a more natural way.'

that means always hunting

them back *

live in

liberty,

tlie

Dyke Kaffir

;

and he went out

woman, who came

away, and then proceeded to feed

Duke, the dog, waiting for his turn, and not

beini{ forgotten. It

was

dingnag,

like

Dyke

playing at keeping bantams in Brobsaid, as

they entered the pens prettj^

well provided with food for the birds,

enclosure to enclosure,

and going from

armed each with a stout

necessitated

by the manners and customs of

For though

it

was

food for the young

plain sailing bii^ds,

stick,

their charge.

enough scattering out

which stalked about looking

very solemn and stupid, the full-grown and elderly, especially the cocks, displayed

which

*

a desire for more, to

glutton' would be far too mild a term to apply;

while the goblin's successor, as

king of the farm,

seemed to have become so puffed up with pride at succession to

the throne, that the stick

had

to

his

bo

LIFE ON THE VELDT.

.90

applied several times in response to his insatiable and

demands.

ao-o'ressive ^ J

i.

But

at last the feeding

was done, the hens

ance on the nest of eggs visited, where

in attend-

all

seemed

and then the horses were saddled, and

satisfactory,

Jack and Duke summoned.

The

latter

dashed up instantly

;

but Jack made no

reply. '

Yes, he

seemed

to be so

much

he did

'

to

Of course we

I 'm afraid

shouted

it,

it is/

properly

our

own

but

;

we

little un.'

Dyke.

ought,' said

now V

to be^'in '

have made him do

it

always

It has

'

less trouble to saddle

horses than to see that

ought

Euison.

spoiled,' said

is

— said Enison.

'

It isn't too late

'

Here

!

Hi

!

Jack,' he

and the dog supplemented the cry by running

;

toward the house, barking loudly, with the result that the Kaffir

woman came

out,

saw

at a glance

what was

wanted, and turned back.

The next minute there was a

scuffling noise

heard

behind the place, accompanied by angry protesting voices,

speaking loudly in

Then assegais,

all

tlie

once Jack

at

Kaffir tongue.

appeared,

carrying

three

and holding himself up with a great deal

savage dignity

;

of

but as he approached he was struck

on the back of the head by a bone.

He

turned back

Jack seized

tlie iiiano

ami trotted

oil'

lieside

the horse.

ON THE VELDT,

LIB^E

angrily, but

ducked down to

93

avoid

and ended by running to avoid further

fuel,

with his dignity

Jack bad

missiles,

gone, for Tanta Sal's grinning face

all

peeped round the cornei^ and «he shouted '

dry cake of

a

All eat

sick, baas.

—

:

seep.'

*Yes; that's what's the matter, Jack,' said Emson, shakino- his head at him. horse's

mane, and I

'11

give

There was no help for

Now

'

take hold

you a good

the

of

digestive run.'

Jack seized the mane and

it.

trotted off beside the horse, while a derisive shout

from behind the house, and

came

Tanta's grinning face

reappeared.

much

This was too

his assegais at her:

for he

for Jack,

the

stumbled and

who turned

movement was

fell,

to

shake

unpropitious,

but gathered himself up,

caught up to the horse, and trotted on again, keeping

on in the most untiring way, birds

till

a flight of carrion

was sighted, hovering about the granite boulders,

and perching here and there, as

if

ready for the

banquet to come.

Duke charged scattered,

forward

but did not go far

started half-a-dozen jackals

which they had

retired,

at ;

this,

and

the

birds

while the dog's approach

from among the bushes to

and they now began scurrying

over the plain. 'I

wonder how they

find out that there's

anything

;

LIFE OX THE VELDT.

94 dead, Joe,' said

Dyke; 'we

did not see a single jackal

or bird this morning.' '

Eyesight/ said

Emson

quietly.

'

The vultures

are

about on high, and one sees the dead animal

sailing

r

then

other vultures

see

him

makiuo-

for

and

it,

follow.'

'And '

the jackals see the vultures, and follow too V

That

be the way, old fellow.

seeuis to

they always

manage

Anyhow,

where there

to find out

's

any-

thino- to eat/ 'I say, don't

he look big?' said Dyke, as the carcass

now

of the dead lion lay '

Yes

;

he

's

well in sight.

one of the finest I have seen.

You ought

to get the teeth out of his head, little un; they'd to save '

do

up for your museum/

I will,' said

Dyke.

The next minute they had dismounted, and were removing the horses' bridles

to let

green shoots of the bushes.

The

them pick

rifles

off the

had been

laid

down, and Duke had oo-one snufEnothe o about amono" r^ rocks, while Jack was proceeding to sharpen the edge ^

of one of his assegais,

tongue. together,

when

There was a furious

and from

companion

close at

the dog suddenly gave

roar^ the horses pressed

hand a

lion,

of that lying dead, sprang out

away, soon placing

itself

out of shot.

up

evidently the

and bounded

:

LIFE ON *

Ought

to

Dyke, as he '

THE VELDT.

have been with us

called

05

moniing/ said

tliis

back the dog.

Couldn't liave done better

if

Emson, quietly roiling up his

we had had him/

said

an example

sleeves,

followed by the boy.

'Think that one will come back again?' was the next remark.

'Xot while we are here/ was Emson's reply; and then, as the

evening was drawing on, he set to work

helping Jack,

who was

cleverly running the point and

edge of his assegai through the skin from the lion's chin to

tail,

and then inside each

leej

down

rio-ht

to the

toes.

A

busy time ensued, resulting in the heavy skin

being removed uninjured, and across

Emson's

said

horse.

have

'You'll

up and packed

rolled

to leave the teeth

till

another day,'

Emson, as the stars began to peep out

they trotted homeward the carcass a couple of snarling,

and

howling

look inquiringly

up

at

;

faintly,

but before they had

and left

Imndred yards, a snapping,

made Duke his

stop

masters, as

short and

much

as to

say

'Are you going to

But

at a

let

them do that V

word he followed on obediently, and the

noise increased.

LIFE ON THE VELDT.

96

'Won't be much

Ly to-morrow morning,

lion loft

Joe/ said Dyke. '

No, boy.

Africa

jackals, birds,

and

well under cover *

Why

drag

it

*No;

?

is

flies.

well scavengered,

But

what with the

\yc 'd better get that skin

somewhere when we are back.'

Think the jackals

will follow,

and try and

away V I

was

feeling sure that the other lion would.'

Emson was

riglit,

for

night by the alarm of the

Dyke was awakened that horses and oxen, who gave

pretty good evidence of the huge cat's being near, but a

couple of shots from Emson's

animals settled

down

gun rang

out,

and the

quietly once again, there being

no further disturbance that night on the lonely fann.

—

CHAPTER

YIII.

THE DESERT HERDS.

TELL yon

]

some

what,

mornings

little

*

I

m

going

and motto, and

start a crest

doubled

later,

for

fist

the

Emson

said

un,'

take a

I'll

crest,

to

and

Nil

desperanditm for motto/

*And what good hammering away lion's sknll

that do you?'

Dyke,

said

as he knelt on the sand with the

held between his knees.

*What good before

will

— me

"

1

Why,

Never

I shall

despair,"

always have

my

motto

and the doubled

fist

to' '

To show that you are always ready

Jack's head,' cried

hammer on 'No,'

Dyke

quickly

;

to

punch Kaffir

and bang went the

the end of the cold chisel the boy held.

said

Emson, laughing

'to denote determin-

ation,' '

"

Inasmuch as

to

which G

?

"

as the

Yankee

said in

'

'

THE DKSEIIT

98 his hook.

— Pincers, please.

with those pincers, Joe

IIEUOS.

Here, what have yoii done

?

They're underneatli yon,

'Haven't touched them. stupid.*

r

'Oh, ah

!

so they

are,'

said

up, he took careful hold after loosening

dragged

it

it

Dyke

;

and picking them

of one of tlie lion's

with the hammer and

tusks,

chisel,

and

out without having injured the enamel in

the least.

The two sharply-pointed fangs had been extracted from the lower jaw, and Dyke was busily operating on the

and

skull,

which was,

like the bones scattered here

work

there, picked quite clean, the

and vultures having been finished

Dyke

as

held

up the third tusk

of the jackals

by the ants

off

Duke and

and

in triumpli, his brother

took the piece of curved ivory and turned his hand, while

;

it

over in

the horses seemed to be

interested spectators.

'Magnificent specimen of a canine tooth,' said

Emson

thoughtfully.

Dyke laughed. I know better than

that.

'

'Can't?

mean '

But

it

replied Emson.

is,'

'What do you

?

Canine means

grow

It can't be.'

in a big cat.

doer,

It

's

doesn't

it

?

Doo:'s teetli can't

a feline tooth/

'

THE DESERT grow

'They can

You

instance.

lion's

have

fonr so

;

canine

why

—in

yours, as

the

grow

in a

teeth,

can't they

for

?

'Because

it's

away some *

human jaws

in

them

naturalists call

00

IfEKDS.

unnatural/ said Dyke, beginning to chip

of the

jawbone from around the

Canine teeth can grow in

my jaws,

last tusk.

because you said

one day that I was a pnppy.'

You

I say, don't, little un.

'

growing too

're

and attempts at jokes like that don't seem to

Mind what you

here in this hungry desert.

you

or

clever, fit

out

are about,

spoil the tooth.'

'11

'I'm minding; but what did you meaii about your Nil desperan(hbm?' '

That

thing

and

I

'11

When we 've

never despair.

we can out

settle in

here,

and

failed,

well go back home

Something always turns up,

London.

and you're so handy, that we

you

tried evcr}^-

'11

start as dentists,

and

shall extract all the teeth.'

My

word

a tight one.

But

people wouldn't have their teeth taken out with

ham-

'

All right, Joe.

mer and

!

this

is

chisel.*

*

You

*

They wouldn't laugh much, gas or no

Dyke,

'

could use laufrhinof

if

like this,

gras.'

I got hold of their teeth I say, this is

gas,' cried

with the pincers,

a tough one.

Ho

never had

—

'

THE DESERT HERDS.

100

You have

tootliaclie in this.

strono'er '

No

makes me

'

But

'

Never mind.

it

doubled *

so hot/

for determination,

fist

Who 's

try.'

Remember my and

crest "

and motto

Never

despair."

going to despair over a big tooth

Dyke, holding on giving a good '

your muscles are

:

than mine.'

have another

;

a go

to

the pincers

and

wrench,

Phew

That's got him.

!

it

with both hands,

tearing

was a

cried

*

?

job.

out the I say,

tusk.

they

'11

look well as curiosities.' '

Yes, they

little

a fine set/ said Emson, taking out

're

liis

double glass, and beginning slowly to sweep the

plain. *

See anything

asked Dyke, as he rose to his

? '

and put the hammer,

chisel,

and pincers

case buckled behind his saddle,

feet,

in a leather

and washed

his hands,

drily, in sand. '

Not

yet.'

'Oh, do see

some kind *

Yes,

wife.

home with

to take

we ought

us because

we

are starving

'Won't matter, •

must get a buck of

us.'

to get something, or

You '11 have

sharply.

Wo

something!

if

him

;

Jack

will forsake

and take away

his

to cook then, little un.'

there's nothing to cook,' said

But, I say, Joe,

you do think we

Dyke

are getting

'

THE DEyEUT HKUDS. on bettor with

*Only

long

we

shall

be in

the end of our stock/

irettinp; to

what about your motto

the black side

Who's looking on

?

?

my

Guilty,

will

'That's

bitterly.

how

Easily calculate

one a week.

liave died

eggs.'

said Eaison, rather

two,'

'I 8ay,

Only two chicks

?

we took home those

since

'

birds

tlio

101

Come

lord.

along

;

jump

up.

We

have soniethinc^ or another to take back for a

roast.*

Dyke sprang upon

dog gave a joyful

his horse, the

bark, and they cantered

oifj

Dyke

placing

hi.s

ritie

on

his rein hand,

while he rearranged the tusks in his

pocket, to keep

them from

'Which way

are

try west

we going V he

said.

we may perhaps

'

Let

'

Oh, don't talk about them,' cried

's

;

I say, that

tired of the wretches,

two showed just missed

'What? can't I

rattling.

fight at

my

me

see ostriches.'

Dyke

^ ;

I

do get so

young cock number

this morning,

and kicked.

leg.'

Oh, you must be careful, old chap.

afford to

He

have your leg broken.

had a look at the stores

this

I

But, I say,

morning before we

started.' '

I

saw you, and wondered what you were

'The mealie bag

is

nearly empt}^

One

doing.'

of us will

:

THE DESEllT HEUD«.

102

have tu take the wao-on

and buy

stores.'

AVhy not both go

'

'I'll tell

birds

old Moi'u'ens tern's

acrotss to

YOU,

It

?

would make a change.'

When we

un.

little

would be dead, and the other

got back^ halt'

the

halt'

over the

all

veldt/

*Oh;bot]ier those old ostriches! they're always in

way/

the

cried

Dyke.

mind them, only '

I

c^in't

see

'

All right, Joe

it

can be done in

Boer

is

away,

'All right; '

I

'11

new

it

may

;

'

and

the old

I won't

mind/ said Dyke with a

sigh.

take care of the place, and I 'm going to try some plans.

I 've

said

if

take a fortnight.'

There shan't be a single bird

oughtn't those young birds to be out by '

help.'

than ten days,

less

old fellow/ said Enison thoughtfully

stop and

'11

you can

don't be longer than

how

I

;

die.

now

I say,

?'

been expecting them every day for a week/

Emson, rather

dolefully.

'

But, look here,

little

un

you took Jack with you, do you think you could

if

manage the journey yourself

Dyke turned on

his horse

?'

and looked quite

*

There's the driving.'

'

Jack would drive/ said Emson

'And

hastily.

the inspanning and outspanning.'

'

Which he could

'

And camping

see

to.'

out in the

wagon

alone.'

startled.

THE DK8EUT 'Yes: you can't help

it,

want good

VI

every night;

fires

Only one could

old fellow.

he happier with the

103

HEKOti.

go,

but

I

and you

'd

work and excitement than you

would bo moping at the house,

alone,

all

and Avatching

come back/

fur nio to

'But that would be just as bad for you, Joe; and

you

be thinking that the lions had got me.'

VI

'No, I shouldn't; but I should be trembling for the oxen,

my

you, and '

Oh, I

There, I 've

boy.

you '11

'11

Schlagen

much

better

to send

go.'

go/ said

Oom

my mind

made up

Dyke

it 's

?

lot

of

sturdily

why

but

* ;

twenty miles nearer. things

and

more

is

not go to

He

has a

than

civil

MorG-enstern.' '

Yes, I

know

Mor£censtern

is

and meal, but deal with

you

all that,

He

honest. he'll give

un/ said Emson

little

you just measure, and

work

to see

way he

I'll

— a boy

and trick you

could.* >

'Then

Old

he couldn't rob you

if

of a span of oxen, saying they were his,

over the stores in every

will

would with me.

as fairly as he

alone, set to

but

charcfes wxli for his corn

Uncle Schlagen would, as soon as he saw you

coming

' ;

go to old Morningstars.

?

You won't mind going?' 'Oh 1 11

go/

yes, I shall, because

it

will be

so lonely

;

but

THE DESERT HERDS.

104-

'

don't

I

another

un

little

and there

;

's

difficulty.'

Oh, never mind that

*

'

sending yoUj

like

True

but some are

;

;

it

's

bii>'o'er

all difficulties

than

temptuously, as

if

others.'

now?'

'Well, what's the big one

out here/

said

Dyke

con-

he had grown so hardened that he

could face anything,

'Jack/ said '

'

What

Jack

!

he gives

If

Emson

laconically.

Yes, he

?

me any

'd

better be/

of his nonsense, he

over the head with the barrel of *

How much

cried

of that

how much bunkum

have a rap

gun.'

honest pluck, old chap, and

is

V

my

'11

Dyke.

said

Emson, speaking veiy

seriously.

*I don't know,' cried

there

's

any bounce

*

But he

'

Oil

Tanta lier,

he

3-es,

Sal,

I

do.

Joe.

I

meant

's

it

I don't think

honestly/

a man, and he bullies and threatens

and makes believe that he slie

is

going to spear

ruslies at him, lie runs.

I don't

should be afraid of Jack.'

Neither do

will

it,

'

;

a man, and you are a boy/

and directly

think '

is

in

Dyke, colouring

I

might begin

I, little

un,' cried

Emson warmly.

was nervous about to

from me, and

show if

off as

this.

I

*

That

felt that

he

soon as you two were away

he fancied that you were afraid of

him, he would be master to the end of the journey.'

THE DESEUT 'Jjufc

if

cauie to a row, Joe,

it

afraid of him, I wouldn't let

Oh

should be, but *

That

brotlier proudly.

'

You

was

I

see

and

I

Look, look

'11

I

him know.'

Emson, looking

shall go, 1

horribly

Perhaps

it.

no, I wouldn't let

Here

the stock and

and

him

dO; old fellow/ said

'II

105

HEllDS.

at his

take care of

!'

This last in a tone of intense excitement, for a herd

seemed suddenly to have risen out of the

of zebra

ground a couple of miles away, where nothing had been visible before, the beautifully striped, pony-like animals frisking and capering about, and pauvsing from

time to time to browse on the shoots of the sparsely

There were hundreds of them, and the

spread bushes.

them

brothers sat watching '

Not what

Emson *

'

at last;

There

's

*Yes,

'

some minutes.

should have chosen

for

food,'

said

but they say they are good eating.'

something

know they

I

I

for

better,'

said

Dyke, pointing.

are good.'

we know they

are good,' said

he slipped out of the saddle,

Emson

Dyke

softly, as

following

his

example, and both sheltered themselves behind their horses. *

*

They haven't noticed

Mixed '

of

\"is

They them

up with the

'i*e

coming

r cried

us,'

Emson, after a pause.

zebras, perhaps/

nearer.

Dyke

said

Why,

excitedly.

there

's

quite a herd

THE DESEllT HERDS.

106

They

stood watching

a

little

group of springbok

playing about beyond the herd of zebra little

now came

creatures, that

—

light, graceful

down toward

eareerini''

them, playfully leaping over each other's backs, and

proving again and again the appropriate nature of their name.

And now,

as

quite a migration of animals was

if

taking place across the plain, where for months the brothers had

wandered rarely seeing

after herd appeared

They came

of beautiful

into sight from the

a head,

herd

deer-like creatures.

dim

distance

—graceful

antelopes of different kinds, with straight, curved, or

lyre-shaped horns

;

stumpy and hooked of

all,

gnus,

fierce-looking ;

ugly quaggas

but easily seen from their

;

with theirs

and farthest

size, great,

off

well-fed

elands, ox-like in girth/ '

I

never saw anything like

this, Joe,' said

Dyke

in

a whisper.

'Few people ever have said it

Emson,

as

in

these days, old fellow,'

he feasted his eyes.

'This must be like

used to be in the old times before so much hunting

took place.

It

shows what an enormous

unexplored land there must be

off to

tract

of

the north-west.*

And will they stay about here now V What for ? To starve Why, Dyke, lad, there is nothing hardly to keep one herd. No I daresay by '

'

?

;

;

THK DKSEKT HEEDS, this time to-uiorrow there will will all

It

is

have gone

off to the

107

They

hardly be a hoof.

north or back to the west.

quite a iHigration/

some kind

^I suppose they take us for

of six-legged

they would not come so near.'

horse, or

Be ready; they may take

*At present.

any moment^ and we must not

let

flight at

our fresh-meat

supply get out of range/ *'Tisn't in

range yet/ said

No, but

soon will be/

'

'What

it

are

you going

Dyke

quietly.

to shoot at?

— the

and then mount and gallop after them and like the '

springbok,

slioot again,

Boers do?'

What

!

with big antelope about

want our larder

filling

up too badly.

boy

No,

?

Look

:

;

we

impallas

and at those grand elands/ *

I see

'

Quite

them ;

;

but they must be a mile

but they are

coming

in

a\vay.'

this

direction.

Dyke, boy, we must make up our mind to get one of these/

'But we could never get

home.

it

They're bigger

than bullocks,' *

Let's shoot one, and then talk of getting

What

We

it

home.

about a span of oxen and a couple of hurdles

could drag

it

back, and

so last us for weeka'

it

I

would make biltong, and

THE DKSEUT HERDS.

108

Ugh And

'

'

and

Leather

!

give

fat to

*

Don't

'

Hush

"as

!'

cried

plenty

ot*

Be quiet now

for present eating,

Bullet in each barrel.'

'

That will will

move

close it,

Are you loaded

'

do.

;

too much, Joe.'

your gun across

will he better hidden.

be

meat

make my mouth water !

you

fresh

cook for months.'

horse's shoulder, rest

one,

Uyke.

Now

mind,

if

wc do

up

your

to

and then you right V

all

get a chance at

aim just at the shoulder.

Try and

don't

flurried.* ^

Ah

right.'

'Give him both barrels, so as to

and

lire

when

Dyke

make

Try

sure.

I do.'

nodded, and they waited for fully two hours,

during which time zebras, quaggas, and various kinds of antelopes charged

sight of the

down near them,

two curious-looking

startled

by the

horses, standing so

patiently there in the middle of the plain, and after

halting

nervously,

they careered

away

the

again,

trampling of their feet sounding like the rush of a storm.

Again and again the hunters had opportunities bringing

down

goodly, well-fed antelope,

bounded up, wheeled,

halted,

when

for

a herd

and stood at gaze

;

but

there in the background were the great eland, each

THE DESEUT HERDS. coming slowly and cautiously

might

to

they had also

on, as if

been surprised by the aspect of the curious

109

know what manner

liorscs,

of

and were

creatures

tliese

be.

Dyke wanted

to say

'

Let

shoot

s

; '

but his

lips

did not part, and he stood patiently watching at one

impatiently

time,

that his brother

another,

at

was

feeling

as

he

did

letting a magnificent chance go

by.

Twice over the position was

startling,

when

first

herd of quaggas and then ono of gnus charged

upon them, and Dyke

that the

felt

a

down

next minute

lie

would be trampled under foot by the manj^ squadrons of wild-eyed,

shaggy

little

creatures.

stood fast, comforted and encouraged

But the horses

by the presence

of their masters, while the fierce-looking herds halted, stood,

stamped, and tossed their heads, and went

off

ao'am.

At

last,

various

when hundreds

antelopes

upon hundreds

of

had passed, the elands were

the still

browsing about, nearly half a mile away, and seemed not likely to come antelopes

any

nearer.

A

herd of smaller

were between them and the hunters, and

there appeared to be no likelihood of their firing a shot. '

I

'11

cnve

them a

few

minutes

lonf^er,

Dvke,'

'

THE DESERT HERDS.

110

whispered Eiiison,

'

and then we must,

if

they don't

come, go after them/ '

sai

Wouldn't 1

Dyke

'No

it

be better to pick off a couple of these

Be ready

fire.

Dyke nodded a

for

when

I say

''

shall

close, leap off '

Mount."

smartly, and waited impatiently for

quarter of an hour, during which they had

full

chance after chance at small fry held

We

of those elands.

have to ride one down, and when we get

and

?

softly.

we must have one

;

'

but the elands

;

still

aloof.'

All

at

Emsons

once

was heard

voice

a low

in

whisper: 'Do you see that fat young bull with the

dark raarkino-s on

its

*

Yes.'

'

Tiiat is the one

and

back and shoulders

we must

ride for.

?

—Ready

!

Mount,

off.'

They dashed

sprang

into

their

saddles

off to follow the elands,

while

together,

and

at

first

their

movements the whole plain was covered with the startled herds, one

its

panic

;

but

Dyke

in the excitement

saw nothing, heard

nothing, but the elands, which went tearing

away

their long, lumbering gallop, the horses gaining

them

the

to

There was the rushino; noise of a tremendous

other.

storm

communicating

steadily,

and the herd gradually

in

upon

scattering,

till

THE DESERT the young bull was brothers

side,

turn

its

it

off

great brute's

more and more

head in the direction of Kopfontein

shooting

it,

convey

so that,

by the

alone, closely followed

all

and edging

homeward,

to

Ill

Emson dexterously riding on the

;

near

it

HEIJDS.

so as to

hunting

;

they were successful at last in

if

the poor brute would have been helping

itself

part of the way, no trifling advantage

with so weighty a beast.

On

and on at a breakneck gallop, the horses stretch-

ing out like greyhounds in the long race eland, Its

long and lumbering as

it

was,

companions were far behind, and the

so short a time before

various animals,

but the

;

kept

aliead.

plain,

which

had been scattered with herds of

now seemed

to

have been swept clear

once more.

At

last the

tremendous pace began to

tell

upon both

horses and eland, while the difficulty of driving

grew

the required direction

less.

But

all

at

it

in

once,

rendered savage by the persistency of the pursuit, the great antelope tui^ned toward the hoi'ses and charged straight at

The boy

Dyke. \vas so

unexpected attack

much tliat

astonished at this sudden and

he would have been overturned,

but for the activity of Breezy,

who wheeled

gave one bound, and just carried his rider It

was no

light mattei%

round,

clear.

and Dyke wondered

that.

THE DESERT HERDS.

112 in the

sudden twist given to his

by the

loins

cob's

spring round, he had not been unhorsed.

But the eland did not attempt gathering up

its

to

renew the attack,

and bearing away

forces

for

the

r

Duke snapping

distant herds, with

chase was

the

at its flank

again renewed, with

;

and

Emson's horse

beginning to lose ground, while Breezy seemed to have

been roused to greater

effort.

Emson shouted something distance to the

left,

He had

hear.

secure the

Dyke, who was some

to

but what

it

was the boy did not

one idea in his mind, and that was to

game

so necessary to their existence, and to

end he urged his cob on, getting

this

it

at last level

with the great antelope, which was a few yards to his rio'ht.

It

was

all

a chance, he knew, but

and the antelope seemed ready

to

Emson was

go on for hours

waiting his time, he checked his speed a let

it

on his

so,

and

left.

There was good reason for the

as

little,

;

the animal go on while he rode to the other side

and brought

let

beaten,

act.

He

could

now

the barrel of his heavy piece rest upon his left arm,

he held

it

he levelled

pistol-wise, it

as

and

well

broad shoulder, and

as

at last,

when well

abreast,

he could, aiming at the

iired.

A miss, certainly, and then

he galloped on for another

THK DESERT HERDS. Imndrecl yards before

118

he ventured to draw trigger

again, this time watchfully, for fear of a

and charge, and not

sudden turn

he was pretty close and

till

perfectly level.

Breezy was in elastic

way

labouring

full

stride,

in spite of the long run, but the eland

heavily,

as

Dyke drew

sharp, jerking recoil shoot

shoulder

;

and going in the most

and then

right

up

trigger,

his

to his astonishment, as

felt

arm

was the

to the

he dashed on

out of the smoke, he was alone, and the eland lying fifty

yards behind, where

it

tremendous crash.

H

had come down with a

'

CHAPTER

IX.

A QUEER PREDICAMENT.

RAVO and

!

splendid

his brotlier

dead

erand,

1

'

panted Em.son, as he

met by the

upon

whose

flank

tongue out, too much run down to bark.

how

did you

You

shoulder.

the

Duke

mounted, and stood with his red

had

]ad,

side of

manage

'

Right

it?

Wliy, Dyke, tln^ough the

couldn't have done better at a station-

ary target/ 'All chance,' said the boy, panting as heavily as the dop'

;

and lowerincf himself

girths, '

and then sank at

Tired

off his naof,

full length

he loosened the

upon the sand.

'

?

'Thirsty,' replied the boy. *

That you must

'

Where

'

To

bear, then,

are you going

fetch Jack

till

I

come

back.'

?

and a span

of bullocks.

I won't be

A QUEER PUEDICAMENT. longer tlian I can

Keep Duke with yon, but

lielp.

don't leave the game.

115

One moment

make a

:

fire,

and

cook yourself a steak/ *Stop and have some,

No

'

Joe.'

time/ said Emson, and he strode away, leaving

his brother alone with the great antelope

dumb

and

his

two

companions.

Dyke,

as he

lay upon his side watching his brother's figure

grow

Well, I didn't reckon

'

upon

slowly more distant, for he

which hung

horse,

uneasy twitch.

its liead,

this,'

said

was walking beside

and kept giving

*Not very cheerful

to

its

tail

his

an

wait here hours

upon hours; and how does he know that I've got

any matches

?

Fortunately I have.'

There was a pause during which his cob gave to send the saddle

a shake which threatened

neath

it,

an act which brought Dyke to his

itself

under-

feet for the

purposes of readjustment. This done, and feeling not quite so breathless from exertion and excitement,

walked round the great

lie

antelope. '

Well,

first

was

it

was

all

chance/

*hc said to himself.

shot was an awfnl miss. so

much

that time. luck, for

to shoot at.

What

Good job

for us thei'e

I could hardly miss hitting

a bit of luck, though.

we wanted

'The

A

big bit of

the fresh meat very badly/

A QUEER PREDICAMEXT.

110

After scanning the goodly proportions of the animal for

some

time,

it

struck the boy that

he Iiad not

reloaded his rifled gun, and this he proceeded to do,

opening the breech, taking out the empty brass

them

ridges, carefully saving

for refilling,

putting his hand to the canvas pouch

cart-

and then

which the

in

cartridges were packed.

His hand stopped there, and, hot as he was, he

felt

a

shiver pass through him.

There was not a

sino-Ie cartridi:je left.

Dyke stood there, half stunned. Had he foro*otten them ? No, he had he started All

;

but where they were now,

he could

tliink

felt

who

them

since

could say

?

was that they must have been

jerked out during the violent exertion of the

ride.

No!

How

They were

his heart leaped.

in the leather

pouch, which he had slung from his shoulder by a strap, '

and the excitement had made

What

a good

this.

of the strap

had

'

That pouch was gone.

come unfastened, and in

liim forget

it

The buckle was

lost,

and there was he out

the middle of that plain, with the carcass of the

antelope to act as a bait to attract lions or other fierce brutes,

and he was without any means of defence but

his knife

and

his faithful dog.

A QUEER PREDICAMENT.

The knife was sharp,

Dyke turned

so

were Duke's

117 teeth, but

cokl at the thought of his position,

involuntarily began to sweep

and

the plain for signs of

danger, knowing, as he did full well, that beasts of

prey always hang about the herds of wild creatures in their

from

niipTations

ground

feedino'

o-round

to

feedinn^

the lions to treat the strong as their larder

;

way

when on

their

to pick

up the infirm and tender young.

to w^ater

;

the hyaanas and jackals

Then the

boy's eyes were directed to the distant figure of his brother,

and

his first

thought was to shout to him and

ask for ammunition.

But no

Emson

however

cry,

Dyke

then, as

sudden impulse, he

And

if

i^an

to his horse ofi*

to

tighten the

after him.

I do/ he said to himself,

gone, the sneaking jackals if

and acting upon

well knew,

girths of his saddle to gallop '

have reached

piercing, could

'

the minute I

and vultures

will appear as

by magic, and begin spoiling the beautiful meat

will laugh at

me

first

for being a coward,

turn angry because I have

left

the

am

;

Joe

and then

eland for the

animals to maul.'

Dyke

stood with his forehead puckered up, terribly

perplexed.

He

did not

mind the

anger,

but

the

thought of Emson thinking that he w^as too cowardly to stop alone out there in the plain

and keep watch

A QUEEU I'KEDICAMENT.

118

few hours way too much for

for a

loosened the ^nrfchs

been

perhaps

eland,

and he rapidly

ai^ain.

Then came the thought had

hiiiij

of a family of lions, which

scenting

unsuccessful,

the

out

and coniiny up to hnd him in that ui^protected

state.

was

It

liorrible,

and, with a shiver, he tightened

the girths, sprang upon the cob, pressed

went

ort*

after

who barked

Emson

its

at a gallop, followed

joyously, as

if

sides,

up and

by Duke,

applauding his master's

decision.

Dyke liiia

felt lighter

hearted and as

if

every stride took

out of danger, and he gave a glance round, saw

dots here and there in the sky which he

knew were

vultures hurr3'ing up to the banquet, and drawing his left rein,

he made Breezy swing round, and roJe in a

semicircle back to the eland with teeth set, a his

brow,

and determination

strong

:

for

frown on he

had

mastered the feeling of panic that had assailed him,

and though he did not grasp the

made a CDoTand

stride

in

those

fact himself, he

had

few minutes toward

manhood. 'Let 'em come,' he said bitterly like that. •as

Why,

big as that one

I coukl

we

;

'I

won't run away

only have done this

if

a lion

shot were already here.'

In another five minutes^ with the dots in different

A QUEEU PllKDlCAME^'T. parts around growing plainer, elandj

119

Dyke was bade by

and hobbling his horse's

forefeet,

he loosened

the girths again with almost angiy energy

strapping the as

it

bit, left

the

;

then un-

the cob to crop such green shoots

could find.

As

the boy performed those acts, he could not help

stealing a glance here

and there

;

and then standing

on the eland, so as to raise himself a his eyes

He

and carefully swept the

little,

he shaded

plain.

could see distant patches, wdiich he

made out

to

be herds, gradually growing fainter, and several more dots in the sky, but no sign of danger in the shape of lions

he

;

but he derived very

knew

little

comfort from that, for

well enough that the tawny-hided creatures

would approach in their crawling,

cat-like fashion,

and

a dozen miojht be even then hidden behind the bushes, or flattened

down

with which their

them

in the sand, or dry,

coats

invisible to the

so

shrubby growth,

assimilated as

most practised

to

make

eye.

Dyke's teeth were pressed so hard together that they emitted a peculiar grinding sound with the exertion as he leaped down,

and the dog looked up in a puzzled

way, and uttered an uneasy bark.

Dyke started. The dog must scent danger, he thought, and the next glance was at Breezy, whose instinct would endorse the dog's knowledge

;

but the cob was

!

A QUEEll rUEDlCAMENT.

120

blowing tho insects

The

was fancy.

Dyke knew

nearer, but of

shoots

Then

that he could keep a thousand

empty gun.

his

sudden thouo-ht occurred

a

pouch the while, and shaking

Seek them

!

Hey Good

!

there,

he

canvas

off his

it.

good old boy

dog, then

The dog barked

him, and

to

turned excitedly to the dog, taking

Duke

were coming

great, foul birds

them away by flourishing

'Hi,

at every

and browsing contentedly enough.

breath, It

tender

off the

I

Seek

excitedly,

Lost

!

— seek

sniffed

at

!

—

lost

Lost

!'

pouch,

the

looked np at his master, whined and barked, sniffed again at the pouch, and

answer to Dyke's

finally, in

shouts and gestures, took another sharp sniff at the canvas, and bounded away, head down, and following

tho

track

own

feet.

made by

'What an said the

idiot I

the

eland,

was not

boy to himself.

'

to

the

horses,

and

his

think of that before!'

He '11

find

it,

sure as

as

sure.'

Then he gave another glance round,

to

stand

repentant as he followed the figure of the retiring dog,

and

felt

ready to

call it

terrible loneliness

one

back, for he was increasing the

by sending away

who would have

instantly given

the approach of danger.

his

dumb

friend,

him warning

of

A QUEER PREDICAMENT.

121

Once more Dyke went through a mental

He was

masterinn: the strono* desire to call Lack the

and

cloo-

use

it

battle.

forcincr

himself to take out his knife and

as a bill-hook to cut a quantity of the dry, short

bush, piling

it

up

until he

had enough

to

make

a

fire.

This he started, anel felt better, for the flame and

smoke would keep and cook

off animals,

his dinner,

show where he was,

about which he had begun to

think eagerly, as well as of his position. '

I

wonder whether other fellows of

ready to take fright at everything. just

because

the

place

It

It

's

my

The rising

fire

's

so stupid,

how

knows what we

stupid

we

burned briskly,

steadily up in

whether the edge of

the

Fancy

pretty well

is

cartridge pouch, and bring

a good job no one

If an}' one did,

age are so

open and lonely.

is

wanting to keep Duke back when he sure to find

my

feel

here.

it

sometimes.

should look.'

with still

the

air,

his sheath-knife

by cutting the bush wood, he

as,

white

smoke

after

trying

had been blunted

attacked the great

antelope to secure a good steak to broil.

'Plenty to cut at/ he said with a laugh; and his

mouth watered now he could

make on

at the

thought of the juicy

the glowing embers, which would

soon be ready for his purpose. judiciously.

frizzle

But he went

to

work

His experience in the lonely, wild countiy

A QUEKU PUEDICAMKNT.

122

bad taught

knew

a

liiiii

of the hunter's craft,

little

and he

the value of the niao:nificent skin which covered

the elaud

hide

till

so^

;

making

drew back the

certain cuts, he

a sufficiency of the haunch was bared^ and

after

cutting

bush,

he

pair

a

carved

skewer-like pieces from a

of

good juicy

a

inserted

steak,

his

skewers, spread out the meat, and stuck the sharper

ends of the pieces of wood in the sand, so that the steak was

close

Then leaving

it

back into

skill

and well exposed

to,

to roast, its

place

Dyke and

set

to

carefully

the glow.

drew the

work washing

to

his hands.

Only a dry wash

in

the

soft

reddish

sand, but

wonderfully cleansing Avheu repeated two or three times, is

and very delightful as a make-shift, where there

no water.

By had

the time Dyke's hands Avere presentable, and he

piled

up some more bush where the

burned into a

hole,

the

meat began

fire

had

to sputter,

and

drops of fat to drip in the hot embers, producing

odours so attractive to a hungry

meat was

a

luxury,

that

whom

fresh

thoughts

were

lad, to

Dyke's

completely diverted from the loneliness of his position,

and he thousfht of nothinp' but the comino- dinner

as

he took from his pocket a lump of heavy mealie cake

which had been brought by way of lunch.

A QUEKK PJIEDICAMENT. '

Wi.sh I

brouo'ht a bit of salt/

'd

and a few minutes

latcr^ as

liu

ho saw the

123 yaid to hiuisolf full

pound and

a half steak beginning to curl up and shrink on one

Wasn't

it

a pity

for this one

shrank

another thought struck him.

side,

that ho had not cut a

bi^i-'o-er

seriously in the cooking

But concluding that carefully

withdrew the

slice,

?

it

would do

sticks

for the present, he

from the sand, and turn-

ing them about, replaced them so as to cook the other side,

congratulating himself the while upon the fact that

the meat tightly embraced the pieces of wood, and there

was no fear '

of the broil falling into the sand.

Don't want that kind of salt peppered over

said in a

mixed metaphorical way, and

Breezy,

who was browsing away

smiled happily enough.

his face

contentedly,

Then inhaling the

and the sun upon

he

after a look at

odours of the steak, he knelt there, with the

upon

it,'

fire

Dyke

delicious

glancing

his back, picking

and dropping into places where they were needed

up to

keep up the heat, half-burnt pieces of the short, crisp wood. It

was

so pleasant and suggestive

I/O

Dvke

foriifot

all

about

dan^^er o

or trampling from a startled

way. lono-

from wild

beasts, J

herd coming back his

For one moment he thought he %vould be before he

an occupation that

of

came

Duke, and how back with the

— A QUEER PREDICAMENT.

124

He

cartridge pouch.

to the steak, wishing

thought of Eiason,

he was there to share

have the

deteraiinin2: to

fire c^lowins^

regard

too, in

and

it,

and another cut

ready to cook. Then, springing up, he ran to where Breezy raised

head with a pleasant whinny of welcome, took

his

the water-bottle he always carried from where

was

it

strapped to the back of the saddle, and returned to the cooking. '

Done

to a turn,' he cried, as

pieces of

wood which held

he caught up the two

the steak, bore his dinner

away a few yards from the

fire,

sat

down holding

the

skewers ready, and then placing his cake bread in his lap, '

he began to cut off pieces of the meat.

De — licious

! '

he sighed,

'

but a

trifle hot,'

and then

everything was resolved into the question of meat rich, tender, juicy

meat

—glorious

to

one whose fare

had been dry, leathery, rather tainted biltong

for a

long while past.

Dyke

ate as he

had never eaten

fragment was reached

—a peculiarly

before,

till

the last

crisp, brown,

tempt-

ing-looking piece adhering to one of the skewers.

This

he held back for a few moments in company with the last piece of

liad

cake.

mealie cake, wishing the while that he

cooked more, and brought a larger piece of the

— A QUEER PREDICAMENT. ^Koast beef's nothing to old Joe

had been here

and poor old Duke, double allowance brings It

's

my

have a

to

too.

I

bit

while

does come

'Wish

softly. it 's

Never mind, he

when he

pouch.

he said

it,'

125

—

so tender,

shall

triple

have if

wonder wliether he has found

he it.

wonderful what he can do in that way.'

He

I'aised his

by the dog

eyes to gaze

as he sat

there

in the direction

near

the

fire,

taken

and the

huge carcass of the eland behind him, and then he seemed to have been suddenly turned into stone sitting^

the

with the bit of cake in one hand, the skewer in

other, staring,

straight

at

with white rings round his eyes,

a full-grown, handsomely maned

lion,

standing about twenty yards away, gazing at him straight in the face.

CHAPTER

X.

THR HUNTER HUNTED. Mi

HUNTER HUXTKD.

THI-:

hairs at the tip,

the

left side,

swuiifif

now upon

to

and

fro,

127

now

seen upon

the right, in other respects the

great animal being as motionless as the bo}^

many moments Dyke

For

could not even breathe,

but at last he uttered a gasp, followed by a sharp, catching sound, as he inspired with a sob, and the lion the hair about his ears, as

raised

and

to fi'own,

if

uttered a low, deep; growling noise.

Dyke's heart seemed to stand still

fixed

upon those

softly,

irritate the lion into

when

life

wnth his eyes

he waited for

of the beast,

spring upon him, and drive

He shuddered

still as,

him back.

What

it

then

to

?

trying hard not to move, and

hastening

its

aggression at a time

was so sweet, and every moment was greedily

grasped before the end.

He was

horribly frightened,

but this did not trouble him so much, for he stunned, and a great deal of

and seen as

if

what passed was dreamy,

through a mist.

But one thing he

knew, and that was that he would have some

warning of the attack, for the j^ather its hind-lec^^ well

felt

lion

under

it

little

would crouch and before

it

made

its

spring.

Then a wave though

still

of

motionless,

Cfreater vii^jour as

Tliere

was

Iiis

energy ran through Dyke, who,

gun

felt

his

heart

throb with

he beo-an to think of self-defence. close at liand, so near that

he could

;

128

TflE

have reached

it

but

;

HUxNTER HUNTED. it

one bold stroke with

was it

;

He might make

useless.

but the stock would only

Any blow he could deliver would only irritate And now a dawning feeling of admirabeast.

snap.

the

began

tion

broaden as he gazed at the great,

to

massive head and the huge paws, recalling the while

what he had seen

had been

since he

in

South Africa

a horse's back broken by one blow, the heads of oxen

dragged down and the necks broken by another jerk

and he

made

the brute

And

that he would be perfectly helpless

felt

still

spring.

its first

the lion stood, with the

pendulumdike motion

that

heavily at him

the

;

tail

great

swinging in gazing

eyes

while during those painful minutes

;

Dyke's brain grew more and more of

when

mice in the power of

cats,

and

active.

felt

He

thought

something of the

inert helplessness of the lesser animal, crouching, as

fascinated

make

by

the cruel, claw-armed tyrant, waiting to

this beast mio-ht

But

more acute escape.

the

with

And

its spring.

catapult.

If

come

all

in its

he at

knew

him

as

that at if

any moment

discharofed

from a

the same the brain grew more and

endeavours to find him a

way

of

he had only had a short bayonet fixed at

end of his gun, that he tlie

if

might hold

it

ready

butt upon the ground, and the point at an

angle of forty-five degrees, so that the lion might at

THE HUNTER HUNTKD. its first it

bound alight upon

had been known

to

it,

129

and impale

itself,

just as

do upon the long, sharp, slightly

curved prongs of the black antelope, piercing

itself

through and through, and meeting the fate intended for its prey.

But then he had no bayonet

at the

end of his gun,

and no weapon whatever, but his strong sheath-knife.

He

him

could hold that out before

enouo'h that he could not hold it

it

;

but he

knew

well

rioid enouo-h to turn

to advantao'e a^^^ainst his foe.

might have been so

It

appeared to

Dyke

many

seconds only, but

a long space of time

it

numbered by

minutes, as he waited there, expecting the great animal to ci'ouch

and spring, making short work of him before

going on to gorge

upon the carcass of the

There was no possibility of help coming, for

eland. it

itself

must be hours before Emson could return, and

then

it

At first

would be too

last the

power

thought was

suggested that beast to spring

never for a

late.

it

to

to

move came

back, and Dyke's

turn and run, but second thoughts

would be inviting the great active

upon

his back,

moment taking

and he remained

his eyes off those

stared so fixedly into his, although he

firm,

which

was longing

to

look wildly round for the help that could not be at hand.

TUK HUNTER HUNTED.

130

Then

gave one great

his lieart

quiver run through

gathering its

fore

;

its

the lion, which crouched down,

beneath

liind-legs

but

he saw a

leap, for

it,

and outstretching

was some moments before the boy

it

grasped the fact that the brute's movement was not for the purpose of

only to

couch, as

making a tremendous bound, but if

would be

it

easier

and more

comfortable to gaze at him in a seated position after

making a very long *

He

can't be

instant,

stalk.

hungry

!

'

came

and then boy and

other, gazing hard,

lion sat opposite to each

the great cat's head and

till

seemed to swell and swell before the boy's

Dyke's brain on the

to

swimming

gigantic

to

eyes,

mane

proportions

and they appeared

mistv, strano;e, and distant.

Then came another change, threw

itself

over, stretched,

patted at the air with

an upside-down

its

for the animal suddenly

and turned upon

position, its lower

itself

A moment

or

back,

paw, and gazed at the boy in

jaw uppermost, but

keeping a watchful eye upon him, as attack.

its

two

later

over the sand to where

if

was drawing

it

Dyke

expecting an

sat,

and made

a quick dab at him with one paw, striking up the

sand in a shower;

and as the boy

the brute sprang to

its

two

or

three

bounds

feet,

shook

plumped

started

itself,

itself

away,

and with

down upon

THE HUNTEU HUNTED. the eland, aud buried

its

131

teeth in the dead antelope's

throat.

Dyke himself

uttered a hoarse

sigh

by pressing

hands

of

and rested

relief,

down

beside

him,

reprieve, but he dared not

move

his

breathing heavily the while. It

was a temporary

for fear of

and

drawing the attention of the

clung

creature

to

hope

the

perhaps

that

might be content

glut

to

lion to him,

itself

the

great

upon the

game.

The beast was well fed and not savage, that was plain enough,

but

its

moment, and, worse others arriving at

For a

full

action

still,

there

any moment

hour Dyke sat

animal, and listening to

it

as

might change at any

it

was the prospect

of

to join in the feast.

there,

watching the great

tore off pieces of the

neck

from time to time, the crack of a bone every now and then making him start violently, and shudder at the

thought of certain possibilities connected with himself.

And

all this

time the beast was in such a position that

one eye was toward him, and a gleam therefrom it

made

apparent that he was carefully watched the whole

time.

But

get at a

at last the lion turned itself

more meaty portion, and a

more away

thrill of

to

excitement

ran through Dyke.

Grasping his knife firmly in one hand, his gun in

132

TifE HtJNTEIl

HUNTED.

the other, he turned over, and fixing upon one of

tlio

low bushes a short distance away, beyond which was other good cover, he began slowly and silently to crawl

sidewise

away, keeping

upon the

lion,

of the great beast.

was an exceedingly

It

it

eye the while

so as to stop short at the slightest move-

ment on the part

and

a watchful

was hard work

the desire to get

would be grazing

to

difficult

keep

to

mode

it,

of progression,

for with every

up and run toward where Breezy increased.

cob, take off the hobbles

Once he could reach the

which confined

its fore-feet,

tighten the girths, and slip the bit between

he did not

care.

yard

But there was a great deal

knew, before he could achieve

Yard by yard he crept

its teeth,

to do,

he

this.

on, the sand

hushing every

sound, and he had nearly reached the low bush cropped short

all

animal,

over the top by the horse or some passing

when

there was a quick

growl which made him

But a sharp

crick,

movement and

feel that all

was

a low

over.

crack of a broken bone nipped in

the powerful jaws reassured him, and after waiting a

few minutes, he crept sidewise again a

little farther,

and he was behind the bush, which shut out of the lion

him from

He

and smoulilerinof

liis

could

fire,

and

of

all

view

course hid

enemy.

now make

butter progress, for

if

the lion

o

o

'a

to

THE HUNTER HUNTED. turned, he this,

would be

invisible

and takini^ advantage of

;

he crept on froui bush to bush,

And now

a hundred yards away.

135

he was quite

till

the longing was

intense to stand erect and look out for Breezy, but the

bushy growth had been nowhere a yard

meant

to bring

in height,

him

more open

it,

spot,

enemy's

was

up might have

to stand

to be done, then,

sight.

but to crawl on

and as he was going

by the horse

tion taken

and

full in his

There was nothing to a

so closely cropped tliat it

in the direc-

he saw

in feeding the last time

the boy felt not the slightest uneasiness, being sure

that he should come in sight of Still

the

it dii^ectly.

odided on as he CD

minutes

more open part where the sand lay

now

to

grow uneasy

bare,

made

for the

and he began

at not seeing the cob,

and at

last,

like a crushing disaster,

he saw that the poor animal

must have scented the

lion,

cracking of

the

bones,

quietly shuffled as far

There

open

it

or been alarmed at the

consequence,

and, in

away

as

it

it

had

could in the time.

was, a couple of miles away, right in the

plain,

and though at

ment could not be made shufflinfT its

way

that distance

out, it

was

its

move-

in all probability

alono- to save its life.

Dyke's heart sank in his breast as he knelt there in the sand, feeling as

if

his case

and for the moment he

felt

was as hopeless

as evei',

disposed to creep right into

THE HUNTER HUNTED.

136

the densest place he could find, and

ness set

when he would take

in,

But

Kopfontein.

at that

his brother's words,

little

to-morrow morning.

trying

till

at that

moment enough

to

the position of the

absurd story about

A trifling

make Dyke

fire

then start off crawling on

him

there came to

over his back, thrust the knife into

down

dark-

then try to reach

moment

and the

till

his bearings as well

the stars, and

could from

as he

there

lie

by the

thing; but

gun

sling his

its

sheaf,

mark

faint smoke,

all-fours

and

straight away,

not after the horse, but so as to keep the bushes well

between him and the

lion.

was great

The exertion

Never had the sand seemed stifling to

quickly,

breathe

till,

;

and

the

heat

terrible.

so hot before, nor the air so

but he crept on silently and pretty

glancing back over his shoulder, he found

that he mio-ht

move

strai^^ht at

once to where he could

see Breezy looking distant

and misty through the lowest

stratum of the quivering

air.

him no longer still rising,

eland,

;

For the low bushes hid

there was the faint

and just beyond

made monstrous by the

it

smoke

of the fire

the big carcass of the

great

maned

lion,

dwell-

ing, tearing at the neck.

At the

sight of this,

Dyke dropped down

flat,

lay panting and motionless for a few minutes.

he becfan to crawl

straii>'ht

and

Then

for the horse, c^rovellino:

THK HUNTER HUNTED. But

along upon his breast.

this soon

he rose to his hands and knees,

way

or

enough to

A

proved to be far

and laborious a mode of progression, and

too painful

that

137

nohow, though

feelino*

that

must be

it

growing desperate

fast

and run.

rise to his feet

minute's anxious reflection brought the

that this would be a

mad

into following him, so he

feeling

and might rouse the

act,

lion

kept steadily getting farther

and farther away, and more and more foreshortened, as the artists term

it, till

he was pretty well end on to

must present a singular

the lion, and he felt that he aspect to the monster

never do

*I shall

Breezy

it,'

muttered Dyke.

he was frightened.

!

don't get

and

looked across the plain.

if it

any nearer.

I shall

He

I can't

""s

*

Poor old

blame him, but

I

going on as fast as I am,

be obliged to get up and run.'

But he did

not.

He kept up

the uneasy crawling,

putting hundred-yard space after hundred-yard space

between him and the back,

it

was

while,

when he

after dropping flat behind

raising his head

low^

fire,

hummock

till

did glance

some bush and

he could see the eland lying like a

or patch of

bush, and with the lion

cjrowino: less distinct.

On far

he went again, refreshed by the trifling

more by the

fact that

rest,

Imt

he was really getting more

distant from the great danger.

For

it

was

in vain to

THE HUNTER HUNTED.

138

try to assure liimself that as the lion did not molest

him before

had

it

was

fed, it

far less likely to do so

now.

As he crawled onward, wishing he could progress like the

baboons which haunted some

stony

of the

kopjes in the neighbourhood, he tried to think

long

it

would be before he overtook the

cob,

how

and

in

spite of the

danger and excitement he could not help

smiling, for

liis

old problems at school about

an hour and long will *

A

B

so

liimself.

and, besides, I don't

Breezy

At

many

goes so

yards

B

overtaken hy

is

A

?

fellow can't do that without pen, ink, and paper,'

he said to

for

A

if

of one of the

many, for twenty-four hours, how

be before

it

him

position reminded

last

either.

'

It's too big a

sum

know how fast I am But oh, how hot I am

he could bear

it

no longer

do on sand,

to

going, nor

B

!'

he was appar-

;

ently getting no nearer the cob, but he certainly must be,

he

safe for

feltj

him

his whistle,

horse would

sufficiently far

from the

lion to

make

it

He had

to rise

and

and

he could make Breezy hear, the

if

come

trot after the

to him.

nai:*'.

But he dared not use

that yet; besides, he was too far away.

At

last

started sion

he did

onward

rise,

gazed timorously back, and then

at a steady trot

which seemed quite

—a

restful

means

of progres-

after

the painful

TIfE ITUNTI*?,

HUNTED.

139

went on

crawl, and gaining spirit by the change, he

with so good

effect that

gaining on the cob.

he saw that he was certainly

This infused fresh spirit witliin

him, and cono^ratiilatinof himself on the fact that he

must

soon

within

get

whistling

he had

distance,

another glance back to see that eland and lion were an indistinct mass, or so

Then

seemed for the moment.

it

he turned cold again in spite of the heat, for there,

moving slowly over the sand, about a quarter back, ally

indistinct something

which gradu-

clearer to his startled eyes, for

unmistakably

was a tawny,

grew

of a mile

there was a lion stealthily stalking him, taking advan-

tage of every tuft to

many minutes had

approach unseen, and before

passed he felt that

within springing distance, and spite of his almost

superhuman

all

it

would be

would be over

in

toil.

There was only one chance for him now, he

felt,

and

that was to run his best.

He

did not pause to look, but began to run over the

burning sand, his breath coming hot and thick

must go

on, he

behind, thei^c

;

but he

knew, for at every affrighted glance

was

his

enemy keeping up

approach, and the cob was

still

its

so far away.

stealthy

CHAPTER XI REING STALKKD.

HHOSE made

were the

his case

which would have

minutes

stoutest-hearted

was hopeless

;

along, feeling his legs as

if

Still

his feet

were turned

to

man

that

feel

and Dyke struggled

grow weaker, and

heavy weights

of lead.

he kept on at what was no longer a good run,

had degenerated into a weary

for his pace

there were

moments when he fancied

that

trot,

and

the

cob

was disappearing

in a mist of distance, while at the

same time he

a constant inclination to check his

felt

speed, so as to be able to gaze back at his pursuer,

which every now and then sent his heart upward with a tremendous throb, as

it

made a few

rapid

bounds

to gain the shelter of bushes,

but, as

the boy well knew, to come into sight again

much

nearer.

and disappeared,

BEING STALKED.

The in

its

was dreamlike

later part of that terrible flight

strange,

by a despairing was

1-il

wild

and was dominated

confusion,

had now done

feeling that he

all

that

and must throw himself dow^n and yield

possible,

to his fate.

But the

instinctive desire for

horror of

the

life,

being seized by the monstrous beast, and the thought of it

Emson and was,

their

now seemed

home, which, shabby and rougli as

haven

to be a glorious

of refuge,

kept liim struggling on in spite of his exhaustion. Life

was

so sweet

;

was

there

much

so

do

to

;

Joe would be so lonely and broken-hearted

found out his brother's last terrible

blow of

It

fate.

all to

would

be,

the expedition.

and poor

when he

he knew, the

For himself,

he was so stunned by horror and exertion that he could not feel that there w^ould be

much pain

;

all

he

hoped for was that the seizure would be sudden and the end instantaneous

;

but

still

he kept up that slow,

steady double over the burning sand, with his heavy

gun going

jerk, jerk, giving him, as

blows across the loins to

urc^e

him

it

on.

Another wild glance back, and the bigger

cob

;

and another weary stave

still

so

distant,

were, regular

lion

in advance,

but clearer

now

to

growing and the

his vision,

though certainly shuffling away.

Again he looked back,

to

see

the

savacfe

beast

BEING STALKED.

I'i2

grovelling

along, with

itself

lower parts almost

its

touching the sand, and seeming more than ever to

keep up that stealthy, cat-like approach, so as to get Avithin springing distance.

And now

began

reaction

a

take

to

and

place,

through his teeth Dyke's hot breath panted out: '

I don't care

;

I

'11

He

me

for

and he snatched out

his

die game.

shan't kill

nothino-/

His hand went

to his belt,

keen sheath-knife, determined before him, and

fists

sprang.

Then

life,

he

his left

hand went

the beast

felt

that was some

brute would suffer, and

even then.

his

with both

it

when

the lion

face

would not save

It

to hold

;

but the

consolation,

to his throat, to

more

tear open his collar, so that he could breathe freely

;

but

it

did not reach the button, for

against the big metal whistle which

it

struck

hung from

his

neck by a twisted leather thong. His next act was almost involuntary. the metal to his

lips,

and blew with

all

He

placed

his

might

a long, trilling whistle, despairing as he blew, but

with a faint hope that the throuo'h the clear air to alono*

The

with

its

hobbled

saw

tliat

sound would reach

where the cob was

labourinj^

feet.

result sent a thrill

great joy he

shrill

still

through the boy, for

the cob bad stopped.

to his

BEING STALKED.

No No

was fancy.

it

:

it

:

was no

ordered brain

end on to him gazing back

again with

for

call,

now,

;

no fancy of

iinag-ination,

for the

;

and

;

all

The horse familiar

l-i3

it

moment

liis

dis-

before, the horse

was

had turned broadside, and was

in his

excitement

Dyke

whistled

the breath he could put into the act. still

stared

and Dyke

back. felt

had heard the

It

another

of hope,

thrill

on looking back he saw that the whistle had had

a double effect

the lion had stopped

:

short,

sprung

and stood at gaze wuth bristling mane, staring

erect,

after him, its

head looking; double

former

its

But Dyke did not pause; he ran leaden

feet, till

on,

size.

dragging his

he saw that the cob was once more

moving away, and the

lion crawling rapidly along in

his track.

Another effect,

shrill,

trillino-

with

whistle

the

former

and the animals in front and rear stopped again,

giving the boy a few yards' gain.

But the reprieve was very recovered from

its

short.

surprise at the

The

lion soon

unwonted sound,

one wdiich might mean danger, and resumed

its

stalk,

while the cob a^^ain went on.

How tell,

long that terrible time lasted

Dyke

could not

but the wdiistling was resumed over and over

again, always with the

same

effect

,

and with the hope

;

BEING STALKED.

144

growing that

Dyke

2)erljaps at last lie

might reach the

horse,

toiled on.

Despair came, though, in company with the hope

any moment the boy

for at

wildly rush off as soon as lion

was behind

its

felt

that the cob might

— fear

master

the

its

master's

But

call.

still

taught

Dyke was

it

always checking horse and

to

obey

getting nearer

and nearer, and the whistle did not seem effect,

near the

getting the better

long training which had

of

how

realised

it

to lose its

lion as well,

till

to

Dyke's great joy the cob uttered a loud whinnying sound, answered by a deep muttering growl from the lion. '

I can go

no

farther,'

panted Dyke at

last,

and his

run degenerated into a weary stumble, as he raised tlie

whistle once more to his

and then beo'an

feeble might,

lips,

blew with

all

his

to walk.

Hope once more, for the wdiinnying sounded loudly now and in spite of the presence of the lion a couple ;

of

hundred yards behind

came toward where Dyke

Dyke

bling canter.

would come

;

its

master, Breezy suddenly

stood, advancing in a stum-

tried to call to

and he glanced back

it,

but no words

to see the lion

gliding over the ground nearer and nearer.

How make

long would

its

bound

?

it

be before

it

was near enough

to

BKIXG STALKFO.

14o

Long before he could get clown by the to loosen the hobbles

Dyke and

tlie

that

felt

beautiful

from he

as

its fetlocks,

cob's fore-legs

and mount.

staggered to meet the cob,

animal stumbled toward him,

little

whinnying joyfully, seeing for the time nothing but master, to

its '

I shall

whom

never do

it it

!

looked for protection.

never do

I shall

it

1'

he panted,

and he glanced back to see the lion stealing on, with its

And

eyes glaring in the sunshine.

friendly, playful look here, for this

was not the

the

eland,

but

lion

there w^as no

now Djdce

noticed that

which he had encountered by

another,

one wdaich

evidently

been following the droves of antelopes, and, hunger, had turned aside after the it

had

first

with

object that

seen.

At that moment Dyke dropped upon throwinof one ito,

fierce

had

arm round

which had ceased

the fettered its

lecfs

his

knees,

of his favour-

wdiinnying, and began to

tremble violently, snorting and starting, and, yielding to its panic at the sight of

the

approaching enemy,

threatened to bound away.

To get the hobbles undone was

impossible,

for

Dyke's hands trembled from weakness and excite-

ment

;

but spurred again by despair, he made a couple

of bold cuts, severed the leather thongs, to his feet.

and sprang

;

BEING STALKED.

14G

But there was nuich yet and how could he get beast

?

—the

it

girths to

to do:

the bit to fasten,

mouth

into the

of the horrified

tighten, while the cob backed

away. Neither was possible, and glancing once over his

Dyke

shoulder,

snatched at the mane, but missed

it,

for the cob started violently, but stopped a couple of

yards away, paralysed with horror at the approach of the great, stealthy beast.

Another clutch at the mane, and the cob started again

Dyke had

but

;

seized

fast,

it

and was dragged

a few yards before Breezy stopped, trembling in terror as

making one

scramble to mount, but

boy made a leap and

last effort, the

fjettino- his leo-

the saddle half I'ound,

drao-crinGj

over, clino;incj

now with

both hands

mane.

to the

Nothing could have been narrower.

The proach,

lion

had given up

and risen at

bounds,

ending

launched

it

its

last

with

one

through the

air,

to

stealthy,

creeping ap-

commence a

tremendous

series

leap,

which

and would have landed

next upon Dyke and his brave

little

steed

;

of

it

but hoi'ror

drove off the trembling, paralytic seizure, and Breezy

made

also his frantic

that the lion almost it

passed,

bound forward, with the o^i'^^ed

the

result

horse's haunclies as

and alighted upon the sand.

Tlie

beast

BEING STALKKD. turned with a savage roar spurred

by

but, urged

;

hoarse

master's

its

147

by

fear,

cob was

the

cries,

and

and every

galloping, with its eyes turned wildly back,

breath coming with a snort of dread.

Certainly nothing could have been

enraged by

its

failure, the

keeping up bound launched

itself

bound

after

forward,

its

pace at which the brave sand, spurning

little

with hand and

but swiftly as

short of the

fell

cob swept over the

forth a series of

its

shower

was

in

momentary

off.

The pursuit was not kept up

Then the

it

Dyke, lying prostrate,

knee,

expectation of being thrown

for,

in full pursuit,

at every effort in a blinding

it

hundred yards.

;

speed

right in the lion's face, wliile

clinging

was

lion

narrower,

for

more than three

lion stopped short,

and sent

thunderous, full-throated roars,

every one making Breezy start and plunge frantically forward, with the sweat darkening

But the danger was minutes

Dyke

strove

past,

and beginning himself up

to

erect,

; ^

satin coat.

and for the next ten

hard to

sensation of a desire to sob

its

master a hysterical

and then Oo'aininol!)

breathe with less

effort,

streno-th, O '

he drew

and tried by voice and caress

to

slacken the frightened animal's headlong speed. '

Wo-ho, lad! wo-ho, lad!' he

slackened into a canter.

cried,

and the speed

'

148 *

BEING STALKED.

My

word

know how

! '

muttered the boy

manao-ed to stick on

I

Ten minutes

neck, unbuckled and slipped in the reins to the loose side,

and

bit,

its

reeking

attached the

the saddle back into

he properly tightened the

place,

don't

and arranged them ready

Then dragging

mounting.

I

to stop the cob,

and patted

sliding off wearily, he stroked

*

!

managed

later he

to himself,

girths,

for its

and gave two

or three searching glances backward the while.

But the were

w^ell

lion, far or near,

was well hidden, and they

out in one of the barest parts of the plain,

which now spread tenantless as

far as eye could reach,

while the eland was quite out of sight.

And now,

as he proceeded to mount.

the fact that his back wdiich

was bruised

had beaten him heavily

perspiration stirrup, his

;

and

it

was an

;

Dyke awoke

sore

to

by the gun,

he was drenched with

effort to lift his foot to the

knees being terribly

stiff.

He was

con-

scions, too, of a strange feeling of weariness of both

mind and body, and

as

he sank into the saddle he

uttered a low sigh.

But he recovered a cob's

bit

directly,

and turning the

head, began to ride slowly in the direction of

Kopfontein, whose granite pile lay like an ant-hill far

away, low down on the eastern horizon.

He was

too tired to think

;

but he noted in a

dull.

149

BEING STALKED.

was getting very low,

lialf-stunned wa}^ that the sun

and

it

struck

liini

that unless he hurried on, darkness

would overtake him

But

it

lonjx

did not seem to matter

little,

easy,

rocking motion the

;

and though

it

hurt

there was something very pleasant in the

him a

while

before he could ^et home.

wind

Breezy 's cantering

of

swept,

cool

and

soft,

stride,

against

his

cheeks.

Then he began day

—his

like

to think

about the events of the

narrow escape, which seemed

to be

dream-

now, and to belong to the past; next he found

himself wondering where the dog was, and "whether it

of

had found

his cartridge pouch.

Emson, and

oxen

—a

back

ride

Ins

lono- task, for

Lastly, he thought

to fetch

Jack and the

the bullocks were so slow and

deliberate at ever^^ pace.

But

it

did not seem to matter, for everything was

very restful and pleasant, as the golden sun sent the

shadow

of himself

He was

safe, for the lion

one well

and horse far away along the

mounted

as

could be laughed at by any

he

pleasant sensation of safety restfulness that

plain.

was

At

last

the

was combined with a

dull

grew and grew,

then.

till,

moving gently

in

that canter over the soft sand, which hushed the cob's paces to a dull throb, the glow in the west became paler and paler, and then dark.

BEliNG WTALKEU.

150

Then

lirii-ht ai^ain, fur

Dyke

recovered

with

liiijLselt'

a jerk, and sat upright, staring. '

I

do

believe

muttered.

*

was dropping

That won't

You

to crawl

off to

sk'ep,'

he

be

— Go

on,

I shall

do.

off'.

ha
good long

rest^

and didn't

on your knees.

How far

is it

now V

Breezy, okl boy.

have

I

Far enough, for the kopje was only just

visible

against the sky.

But again dull again.

it

did not seem to matter, for

Dyke had kept on nodding

was jerked up

again,

nodding again.

Soon

after he

made

and

begin

to

a lurch to the

and Breezy ceased cantering, and gave himself a

Then followed a

grew

for\yard,

him

but only for

all

left,

hitch.

lurch to the right, and the cob gave

himself another hitch to keep his master upon his back, progressing afterwards at a steady walk, balancing his load

for

:

Dyke was

fast asleep, wdth the reins slack

and his chin down upon his place

easy all at

to

by

the

natural

movement

chest,

and kept

in his

clinging of his knees, and the

of the sagacious beast he rode.

But

once he lurched forward, and instinctively clung

the

horse^s

neck,

with the

result

that

Breezy

stopped short, and began to crop the shoots of the bushes, time.

only moving a step

or

two

fi-om

time to

—

CHAPTEll XI J^YKE

AGGIUEA'ED.

IS

QJINE chance at

I.

a lion/ said

for

dusk he

Emson, as

the oxen, being slowly

left

driven by Kaffir Jack, and cantered off to

his

draw

to

left

with a

sitting upright

Dyke, the boy

rein

in

front

of

start.

'Eh?' '

I

say a fine chance for a lion/ cried

*Xo: coukln't catch* '

*

Here Yes

Hi

!

right

all

;

!

again,

snore.

Wake up

Little one.

!

Emson

— What

s the

matter

!'

cried

Emson.

?'

'Matter? why, you're asleep, you stupid fellow; a lion '

Lion

said '

might have come upon you in that

Come upon

?

Dyke

Speak

fellow,

game V

?

Did

state/

— did you speak to

me V

thickly.

to

you

?

of course.

what was the matter

Why, you ?

foolish, cai^eless

Afraid to stay by the

:

DYKE

152

Dyke

AGGRIEVED.

him drowsily,

looked, at

that had been

IS

said,

striving to catch

all

but only partially grasping the

meanino".

—

know what you mean/ lie said thickly. I mean it was very cowardly of you to forsake your charge, boy/ said Emson sternly. It 's vital for 'Don't

'

'

us to save that meat, and I trusted you to watch

Now

come

you've

away, and

mauled by the jackals

;

Dyke

it,

!

horribly

perhaps we shall lind half a

hundred vultures feeding upon

Hang

be

will

it

it.

when we

it

you might have stayed

get there. I

came

make any

reply.

till

back/

Dyke was

too

much confused

Utterly exhausted as he

seemed to

still

his brother, *

There,

Come sharp before

don't

One

I

it

Dyke

's

stare

let

;

had been,

his

deep sleep

hold him, and he sat gazing vacantly at

who added

along

to

of us

's

in a tone full of contempt at

me

try and

must ride

in

save

on, or

that

idiotic

something.

we

way.

Look

shall not find it

dark.'

rode beside him in silence, for Breezy eagerly

joined his stable companion, and in a short time they

were up

to,

and then passed Jack with

his plodding

oxen, which were drawing a rough sledge, something similar to that

which a farmer

conveyance of a plough from

at

home

field to field.

uses for the

:

DYKE

IS

AGGRIEVED.

153

The angry look soon passed away from Emson's face,

and he turned

to

Dyke.

'There, look up, old chap,' he said;

phiz like

*

don't pull a

that.*

Dyke was

half stupefied

still

by

sleep,

grasped his brother's former words, and uppermost, rankling heavily

still

in

mind

his

but he had tliese

as

You

'

Yes, yes

talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe/ ;

but I was in a pet,

little

un

— vexed at the

idea of losing our stock of good fresh meat.

over now, so say no more about

think

was

he said

:

*

all

were

I

w^as

never coming, didn't

Began

it.

you

That's

?

Well,

to I

lono^.*

Emson might just nothing he

now

said

as well have held his tongue, for

was grasped by Dyke, who could

think of nothing else but the former words, and he repeated himself *

You

*

Yes, yes, I did

'

But you

talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe.'

'What?'

up,

cried

*

Yes,' said

and

felt

But

in

but never mind now, old chap.'

didn't say a

Emson

lions there, surely '

;

word about the excitedly.

*

lions.'

You have had no

?'

Dyke, bitterly now, for he was waking

deeply aggrieved.

open day V

^

Two

great beasts.'

;

DYKE

154

Dyke '

AGGUIEVED.

18

nodded.

Tlicn wliy didn't

you

lire

?

A

shot or two would

Lave scared them away.' *

'

Yes/ continued the boy in the same bitter tone

but you can't

have no '

lire

wlien your gun

's

empty, and you

cartrido-es/

But you had plenty when we

I tilled

started.

your

pouch.' '

Yes, but

*

Duke

I sent

It's lost.

come

came undone

it

in the ride after the eland.

to try

and

lind

it,

and he didn't

back.'

My

poor old chap

!'

cried

Emson, leaning

to grasp his brother's shoulder.

'I did not

I'orAvard

know

of

this.'

'No, you couldn't

know

of

it,

but you were precious

hard upon me.' ']\Iy

dear old chap,

ought not to have with the

way

game, and, as

you ought

in

I

left

spoke to you like a brute.

I

you, but 1 was so delighted

which you had brought down the filled

our larder, that I thought

to have all the

honour of keeping guard,

it

were,

while I plaj'ed drudge and went to fetch the sledge carry

to

came

meat home.

But

tell

me

:

the

lions

?'

'One and

the

did,'

v.dien

I

said

got

Dyke, and gave me turn enough,

away from him

to

try and

catch

DYKE

IS

155

AGGIUEVED.

me and

Breezy here, another savage brute hunted

was

horrid!' he cried,

as ho ended his rough narrative of

what he had gone

Oh,

nearly struck nio down.

it

throuo'h. '

Dyke,

old chap, I shall never forgive myself,' said

Enison, grasping his brother's hand.

my

to recall *

Oh,

'

I 'd

do anything

words.' right,' cried

all

it 's

hand that pressed

his;

*

I

the boy, clinging

'm better now.

I

to the

was

so

exhausted, Joe, that I suppose I couldn't keep awake. I say, '

how was

it

I didn't fall off?'

The cob was standing quite

and looked half asleep *

Poor old Breezy

thought

still

I

came up,

himself.'

He had

!

sucli

up

should never catch

I

when

a fright too. to

him.

I

But

I

did; '

Can you

'

Can

please.

I

forgive me, old fellow

what

?

Oh, I say, Joe

Here, give

pocket.

I

some more

'm

all

me some

Jack

to stop,

What

are

you

my

first one.'

a dozen cartridges, and then shouted

which the Kaffir and

companions willingly '

cartridges to put in

But, I say, I don't think I

should like to shoot at that

to

Don't say any more,

right now, and there are sure to be

lions there.

Emson handed

!

V

did.

p'oino^

to do, Joe

V

his

two dumb

DYKE

156 'Discretion quietly.

IS

AGGRIEVED.

the better part of valour/ said Emson.

is

would be dark by the time we got

It

and on your own showing, the

Why, Dyke,

the enemy.

mad

as

a thing as

we

there,

field is in possession of

old fellow,

it

would be about

could do to drive a couple of

bullocks up to where perhaps half-a-dozen lions are I ouo-ht to

feastincf.

better,

There's only one thing to

the lierds.

but

it

did not

These brutes must have been following

occur to me.

'

have known

What 's

that

?

Go near and

do.'

fire

to

them

scare

away V *To come back again, after they had

mangled remains of the shall

be safer in our

failure, old chap.

No

eland.

own

beds.

Never mind

:

left

good.

It's

us the

Dyke

:

we

only another

we may

get

game

to- u^ or row.'

Dyke

tried to oppose this plan of giving up, bat it

was only

in a half-hearted way, and they rode back

slowly towards Kopfontein, pausing from time to time for the

oxen

to catch up,

uneasy as the night

Jack growing more and more

catne

them and leaving the oxen,

on, if

and

running after

they came to be any

distance ahead.

The

result

was that he was sent on

first

with the

slow-paced bullocks, and Dj^ke and his brother formed themselves into a

rear^T^uard, necessitated

from time

DYKE to time to

come

IS

lo7

AGGRIEV^ED.

to a full stop, so as to keep in the

rear.

It

was nearly morning when

and after fastening their rail,

they sought their

tliey

cattle safely

own

beds,

behind fence and

where Dyke sank at

once into a heavy sleep, waking up

was quite high, with some confusion left

came back asleep

;

when

of the previous

the

sun

evening's

but the whole of the day's adventure

in a flash as his eyes

upon a

reached home,

skin,

between his paws.

and with the

lit

upon Duke,

lost cartridge

fast

pouch

CHAPTER

XIII.

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

HE

took the

sions clay,

as

but

far

tliere

as

providing fresh

for

necessity

brothers out again next

were no more herds

their

where out upon the plain

visible,

would show, any-

glass

but at last they caught

;

sight of half-a-dozen of the graceful

little

and after a long gallop got

enough

close

couple of shots, which proved successful

buck was borne home

provi-

;

springboks, to try a

and a

little

in triumph, a portion cooked,

and Dyke sat watching his brother eat that evening, till *

Emson looked

Why,

*0h '

hullo

yes,

I'm

Then why

'Because past,' said

!'

I

up.

he cried

' ;

not well V

quite right,' replied

you

eat V

wanted

you

don't

the boy, laughing.

make

to '

Dyke

I

hastily.

up

for

the

'm a meal ahead of

JACK UEFIAVES HIMSELF. you.

I

159

had such a splendid dinner yesterday

off the

eland.'

Next morning, upon

their visit to the osfcrich pens,

Emson's face brightened, for there was excitement

among

the birds, the great hen having hatched every

egg of those

had brouglit home

tliey

in tlie net

of feeding, so as to help the

and

for

was done

in the

young brood on

into a

the next few days everything possible

way

;

state of streno'tli.

Oh,

'

do

to

is

We

Dyke

we

"ve

got to

keep on scouring the plain and finding

nests.

right, Joe,' said

it 's all

'

all

;

shall succeed after all/

must scout

'Yes, but you coffee

;

we

can't get

some meal and

off after

on without

those.'

'And sugar/ '

And

sugar.

What do you

say

to

starting

to-

morrow V *

I

'm ready/ said

Dyke

;

and

warning Jack,

after

and making the necessary preparations over night, they sought

tlieir

couches,

and rose before daybreak

go and rouse up the Kaffir and Tlic latter soon

had her

fire

liis

to

wife.

glowing

;

Jack grumpil}-

fetched water, and then proceeded to yoke the bullocks to

the

wagon, after which he settled down to his

breakfast; and after fecflinghis stock, his horse

to

ride a

few miles with

Emson mounted his brother, both

'

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

160 keeping a

was

lookout for game; while Duke,

sliarp

kept on hunting through the bushes,

of the party,

and now and then

startino-

a bird.

was getting toward mid-day before anything

It

was

who

shot,

Emson's

and then another

make

The buck was and some

to

their first

to

fell

as they reached the water

piece, just

they w^ere to

springbok

little

where

lialt.

divided, part to go back to Kopfontein

form part of Dyke's provision, while

another portion was cooked at once and eaten. '

Emson

There,' said

at last,

'

I

don't think I need

Jack knows the

say any more to you, old fellow.

way

well

enough.

Set him to drive the bullocks,

Keep a

and you ride beside and drive him. and

if

he shows his teeth and

tight rein,

isn't obedient, tell

you '11 shoot him, and take aim

him

at once, or he won't

believe you.' '

Rather sharp

'Not with a

practice, Joe, isn't it

man

like

V

He'll

that.

ready to

be

play upon you in every way, and you must see that

you do not mean

harsh, but I '

know Master Jack by

You do think he

water 'I

to be imposed upon.

'11

take

me

let

him

Sounds

heart.* strai^-ht

to all

the

?

haven't

Emson,

smilinc^.

doubt

a '

Jack

about isn't

an

it,

old

ostrich,

fellow,'

said

and must drink

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF. at least once a clay, so

you need not be nervous about

—There/ he continued, mounting

that.

IGl

' ;

I

must be

off.

Good-bye.' '

Not yet

;

I

'm going to ride a

little

way back with

you/ cried Dyke. 'No, you horse.

az'e

— Here

The

Kaffir

Hi

!

not,

Jack

!

Rest yourself and

lad.

your

T

came from under the wagon, grinning.

'Drive your bullocks carefully, and bring them back

good condition/

in

Tlie '

man

That

The

's

smiled and showed his teeth.

Go along and have your

right.

Kaffir

went back and crept under the wagon,

and Emson clasped

his brother's hand.

'Take your time, but don't said

' ;

Thei'e,

lose any, old fellow,'

for I shall be glad to see

of yourself.

sleep.'

I

wish

I

you back.

Take

were going with you, but I

you are man enough

to

he

cai^e

can't.

manage everything,

so

good-bye.'

He

urged his horse forward and went back swiftly

along the

trail, his

of the broad ruts

nag cantering steadily along one

made by the wagon wheels

sand, while

Dyke went and

the wac^on

tilt,

in the

seated himself just under

and watched him

till

he was out of

view.

'Six days and nights at the least/

K

said

Dyke

to

JACK BEHAVES

162

himself with a sigh,

'

and perhaps a

get back.

Never mind

and

suppose

I don't

IJliMSELF.

;

every day will be one

I shall

mind

its

Duke's good company, and

all.

counting Jack, and

fortnight, before I

it isn't

less,

being lonely, after

so is Breezy, without

so very

bad after

all to

go

through the country with one's own tent on

riding

Why, some

wheels.

home would be mad

fellows at

Ah, look at that

with joy to get such a chance.

Why,

I

I'd been ready, I might have got a couple

if

of Guinea-fowl for the larder.'

For a settled

flock of the curious speckled birds

amongst the bushes on the other

water pool, but catching sight of

visitors,

came and

side of the

went

off

with

a tremendous outcry. *

Don't matter,' said

Dyke

'

;

there

's

plenty of the

buck.'

The sun was sinking low long, toilsome

in the west, as after a

journey from the

last water,

Dyke, with

the great whip held aloft like a large fishing-rod and

on the wagon box shouting

line, sat

to the

weary oxen

He was

apparently quite alone,

save that Breezy was tethered

by a long leathern reim

from time to time.

to the

back

no Duke

worn

;

out,

of the

wagon.

There was no Kaffir Jack,

and the boy, as he and disconsolate.

sat driving, looked weary,

JACK liEHAVES HIMSELF.

163

For days past he had been upon a faintly-marked track

leadino-

south-west

marks and the

which hoof-

track in

wagon wheels having passed

traces of

way were

that

—a

faintly to be seen, quite sufficient to

show him that he was on the right track tion in

some form, and he

felt

for civilisa-

pretty certain

that

sooner or later he would reach Ooiu Morgenstern's store

and farm.

But team the

it

had been a

alone,

and

terrible task that mana^^ino- of the

urij^inf]^

the slup^msh animals to drao*

wagon when they reached heavy patches

Then,

too,

there was the outspanning

of sand.

— the unyoking the

often vicious animals from the dissel-boom or pole and trek

chain,

them drink and

let

when he

feed.

halted

wagon

by water, and

Then the inspanning, the

yoking up of the oxen again, and the

start

once

more.

That huge whip, to handle,

too,

had been such a clumsy thing

but highly necessary, for without

would never have reached the end of

Then

at night there

he

his journey.

had been the same outspanning

to see to; the feeding of the bullocks

wood and

it

;

the collection of

lighting of as big a fire as he could contrive,

to cook his food, boil his coffee, and, finally, to scare off wild beasts.

In addition to

protection ought to have been

made

to

make up

this,

keep

off

a thorn

danger

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

1G4

from Breezy, but that was iiupossible

and hour after

;

hour Dyke had sat in the darkness, where the

made

reim was

wagon

the

to

watched

hand, had

in

fast

over

tail,

and,

trembling

the

cob's

gun

beast,

keeping him company when the distant roaring of lions

was heard on the

and the bullocks grew

veldt,

uneasy.

Dyke's

Little sleep fell to

daytime,

when

by night; but

lot

in the

the bullocks were going steadily along

the track, which they followed willingly enough for the most part, the boy's head would sink his breast,

and he would snatch a few minutes'

rest,

wagon

at a

often enough standstill,

down upon

to start

up and

find

the

and the bullocks cropping some patch of

grass or the tender shoots of a

clump of

bushes.

Tlicn on again, with at times the great whip ex-

changed for the gun, and some low, so as to find

Once,

A

too,

him

groaning, flashed

often

empty

and was

little

by the way.

buck.

and weary journey, without meeting

a soul, or being passed.

ending plain,

or another laid

in extra provisions

he managed to hit a

long, doleful,

biixl

as

On and

despairing,

the

reflected

on, over the never-

and with the oxen

wagon up

was,

with

for

the

blinding

sun

force,

and there were moments when Dyke grew giddy, and

felt as if

he must break down.

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

He

But those were only moments. again,

and trudged on or rode, thinking

patiently

away

there in the lonely,

building, tending the ostriches,

165 set his

teeth

of Joe waiting

corrugated iron

and feeling

in perfect

confidence that the journey would be achieved, and

the necessary stores brought back.

There were moments, though, when

Dyke

ened up, and told himself that he would do tried

till

lau^'hed

brightit

if

he

to-morrow morning; and at such times he

— or

—for

rather tried to lauo-h

a painful process, his face

it

was rather

being sore and the skin

ready to peel away.

But

at last, after escaping danger after danger

a haii-'s-breadth, the great weariness

of

away

in

air.

He

could see a broad stretch

green, too, looking delightful

after

passed

the ;

for, far

the distance, there was a building visible

throuo-h the clear of

almost

the

interminable journey was coming to an end,

by

arid

wilderness

and now, in

with waving

through which

he

trees,

had

spite of his great fatigue, D3'ke

plucked up courage, for the building must be

Oom

Morgenstern's farm, and in an hour or so the traveller felt that the first

part of his journey was at an

end.

Once or twice a that soon passed

feeling of doubt troubled him, but

off*

for reason told

him that he could

:

'

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

1G6 not be wrong

had been

—this

must be the point

fox^

which he

aiminn^.

The bullocks began

move more

to

briskly now, for

they could see green pasture in the far distance, and there

was a moister

feeling in the

air,

suggestive of

water not far away.

So Dyke's task grew he could see a

big,

heavy, gray

an untidy-looking building,

and

and an hour or so

lighter,

man

standing outside

about with cask

littered

and who saluted him as he

ease,

later

halted

his

team

Ach

*

*

!

das

Here, I

is

say,' cried

hands with him, Morgenstern

Hey

'

?

How

goot.

'

Dyke,

who

are

You

'

and

mein bube

?'

German shook

as the big

you

calling a booby. Uncle

Not

vas bube.

Bube

you gom vrom Kopfontein dea,

vas,

?

long time ago to gom.

and

you

o-offeo

Well, not quite

gall

ist

yourself

poy, goot poy.

py youzelf and suo;ars V all

all

alone

;

I 've

mans,

to

Zo

puy mealies

got our Kaffir with

me.'

*Ach! pullock

?

ten:

why you

Lazy tog

not

self.'

and

drive

die

!'

'He's in the wagon, bad, bullocks,

make him

inspan

and

I've had to drive the

outspan

all

by

my-

*

Acli

!

(las is r^oot.

How

yon

vas, lueiu

Lube?'

— JACK liEHAVER HIMSKLF.

Ach

'

wonterful

!

you are

und sehr

hot,

'

Oh

'

Goot

All

!

py

1G9

Ant

Goot poy.

j-ouself.

clursty.'

yes, horribly thirsty.'

Die Frau shall make you

!

beaudiful

shouted

;

Das

gofFees.

is

zom

good vor dursd}^

mein

of

Hi!' he

and a couple of Kaffir boys came from beliind

whom

a rough shed, to

the oxen and drive

he gave instructions to outspan

them

abundant pasture by

to the

the river side.

Now

'Goot!

me

led

pad mensch.

see der

Zo

3*ou

haf put you Kaffir in you wagon, and give him a pig '

*

ride.'

Yes

Zo

dree,

make

;

I thouo'ht

Ah

?

1

zom

'Oh yes:

would haf

'' :

Goot-bye."

Mein

You

vrient,

you

yon gan.

I

muss

But you did bring him

well,' said

did

my young

in

And how

vrient.

Dyke, looking uneasy

German Boer questioned

is

he

not

gom

too

?

I

Too busy minding the 3'Oung

as the big,

hiiu.

like

bruder.' '

liad petter

?'

frank-faced, fat,

Why

him oonter a

?'

are a goot poy,

Quite

left

I could not leave him.'

der big bruder

'

beebles

to die.'

youself guite well as zoon as

dem wagon, hey

'

{:joinf:r

und zay do him

nicht shtop.

'

he was

ostriclies.'

den

big

'

'

'

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

170

Of

'Ach zo!

—you gut

money

Ant you make

goorse.

off der vedders,

blenty

and zend dem

of

to der

Gape V

Oh

*

We

no.

re doing very badly

the

:

young

birds

die so fast/

Zo

'

Das

?

You had

very bad.

ist sehr,

mealie und gorn, und dea und sugars. neifer

petters as zigs,

zeven days to me.

The

man had

old

as he spoke,

let

to

us zee den

gom

five,

Kaffirs.'

approached the back of the w^agon

and now drew the canvas

by a

greeted

Now

mooch

It ist

and you not haf

vas,

petter zell

low

which

growl

aside, to

be

made him

start

tog

gone

back. '

Tunder

mad '

'

'

!

he

cried.

Ah Yes

;

that

Und

!

carried

is

is

Der

Kaffir

he pad too

him

fired,

Ach

?

a leopard came and seized him one night and

:

off

and

he would have

from under the wagon

Duke

Goot

got

away

;

What you

licked the

wounds

himself.'

was

but I thought

do to him

!

'And he

but I ran out

died.'

boor togs den.

!

;

I suppose I hit the beast, for there

'Bathed the places with water.' *

is

our dog Duke.'

a lot of snarling and

'

'

!

No, no

and

'

*

?

'

!

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

171

Besser.'

'And

curled himself up, and

Das vas der best

*

Goot

You

tog, den.

your master's vrient

He advanced

his

of let ;

das

zee

hand

where Duke lay just

to

tail.

goot/ said the old

scratch along bofe

your zides

and zoon be guite well

Duke's

tail

friendly

hand which patted

'

Und now

*

Get into the wagon,'

vere

is

und

scratch,

pack,

boot you are a prave

;

again.'

followed

der poy

fat,

his head. ?

sai
Dyke

;

and the German

by Dyke, and stooped down over

the figure of Kaffir Jack, his

'Ach!

low whine and licked at the great,

a

in,

trader.

performed quite a fantasia now, and he

uttered

climbed

German

dom

yaas; you haf been pite on

tog,

vas pad.

ist zo.'

he lay two thumps with his ist

how you

Aha I am

vrient.

and the dog gave the skin on which

inside the canvas,

'Das

to sleep/

mein young

all,

me

went

who

lay on a blanket, with

head toward the front part of the wagon, through

which opening the evening light

The

Kaffir's

still

streamed.

head was tied up with a bandage formed

of the sleeve of a shirt cut off at the shoulder, split

lenf^thwise at the seams, tied too'ether so as to

make

up it

long enough, and this was stained with blood, evidently

days

old.

'

'

JACK BEHAVES TUMSELF.

172

The Boer gazed down up

'

'

at him, screwing

at the Kaffir,

up his face

and Jack gazed most piteous

in the

fashion.

This scrutiny on both sides went on for some time

which was

in a silence

broken by the Kaffir

at last

uttering a dismal groan which went right to Dyke's heart. '

Ah,'

the trader softly,

said

you vas

'

boor vcllow

?

Jack uttered a more dismal groan than '

Ah, vas

den

it

on your vace

'

Oh

!

'

Boor mans

?

You doomble

neffer can be.

'

like dot

groaned Jack.

'

sympathy

dem

oft*

as

liglitning

You

black, idle tog.

vagon, und dread

der boor vellow dead

kill

his tone

from one

?

full of soft

!

You

get oot of

dis,

you oogly

got sore head, und lazy as big

Out you vas

He accompanied

1

the fierce words with a sharp kick,

and Jack bounded up and sprang clear

wagon

bad as

to a burst of fierce anger, he roared out:

Dunder unt

bullock.

you zeem

Baas killum.'

Der baas

Did he den,

!

before.

?

Then suddenly changing

'

How

!

stand out

box, to

on the

over

the

trampled ground,

staring wihlly. I

gom und

get das 'nocoros whip,

tance,

you lazy

tog.

'Ah, you vait

und make you

till

You go

take den

'

JACK JiEIJAVES HIMSELF. pferd

water,

to

you

or

no

haf

173

zoppcr

to-night.

!

Roon

Dyke

stood staring at the change that had

over the Kaffir,

unfastened

who ran

to

reim,

and

the

come

where the horse was led

him

off*

tied,

without

a

He

is

word.

The '

I

old trader chuckled.

know whad

der madder mit dose poy.

is

guide well as nofFer vas, und

lie

und shlecp and say

How game

he gannod vork a leedle pid.

he do domble

und gut den kopf V

Dyke '

He

coloured.

did not tumble/ said the boy.

'Zo?

Mit dem shdick

'No/

faltered

*I hit him.'

?'

Dyke;

of

my

You mide break den

gun.

'with

the

barrel

gun.'

*Achl das

ist

not goot.

Der whip handle

der bess.

is

Why

you vas

hit

him

on dem het V

He would not see to the bullocks. Almost directly after we had started I mean the next day — he got '

—

at the '

Ach

And '

meat and ate !

yas.

zo he eat

Yes

;

He

all

look as

him

all

evcr3'thing/

*Und what den

there was.'

?'

V

if

he had den gros shdomach.

' '

JACK BEHAVES lllMHELF.

174

Then he went

'

and I had fire, *

sleep

to

and wasted a whole day,

do everything, and cut wood for the

to

and watch

to

keep

Ach boor vellow

he vas shleepy, after eat himself

!

!

the wild beasts.'

off

so vull/ '

Yes/

*

Und

der next da}^

The next day he

'

must

that I

cro

?

said

Zo

He

?

his head,

is

to start,

and shoot somethinor for him

while he kept up a good '

was too soon

it

No.

a glever vellow,' said the Boer, nodding

and with

the (

'

told

I

wagon

Und

'Und

his eyes twinkling.

'

up,

said

zo

;

did you ?'

and help

to get

along.'

kicked him to

'Ah

him he must get

he said he vould not move

Yes,'

to eat,

fire.'

go and shoot zom more meat vor den boor poy '

and

?'

Dyke and at last make him get up and '

;

und what den

He jumped

up,

I got angry,

and

work.'

?'

and threatened to spear me with

his assegai.' '

'

he I

Zo

und what den

;

I hit fell

had

him over

?

the head with the

down, and has not been up killed him, for

gun

since.

he lay with his eyes

*Und you goot oop your

shii't

to die

I

barrel,

and

was afraid

shut.'

oop his

het,

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF. unci

175

you veed him, und drink him, und waid upon him

effer since as neffer vas.'

Dyke

*Yes; I've had to do everything/ said '

sadly;

but I ought not to have hit him so hard/

My

'Vot? hit

goot younger vrient, you should, und

him more hart

A

as dot.

A man

cheatincc rascal.

shall here.

morning

a

und wake oop do-morrow

guide well as neffer vas.

as

zo die ozdridge birds go todt

'

Go how

'

Todt, dead

more.

Ah,

?'

said

—

Dyke

veil, I

am

und dot

—Frau,' he

is

Gom

along.

?'

wonderingly.

vail ashleep,

a ver goot mans.

shdore,

and

neffer

wake oop no

He bay

for all he

puy

at

gom a

continued, as they entered the homely

make him a pig

long

mein

vot die oder beobles do not alvays

mein younger vrient

him, und

He

zorry for den pig bruder.

and rather untidy but scrupulously clean house, ist

is

I

shall haf a creat big shlafen,

do.

He

you blendy do eat und drink, und den you

shall give

ist

tog.

bad when he look

neffer

is

pad

know dot sort o' poy, und he pe ferry sorry when he go pack, or I keep him Now you gom und wash, and meine alt voman

guide well as dot.

Und

lazy,

way do

'

dis

you dake him und wash

:

evening's eating, vor he has

zee us,

und he

will

shday as long

as he like.'

Frau Morgenstern, a

big,

fat

woman, greeted him

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

176

warmly, and confined her washing to giving him a tin bucket, a

lump

of coarse yellow soap,

and a piece

enough

of canvas perfectly clean, but coarse

to

make

a sack.

That bucket of water was

delicious,

and so was the

hearty meal which followed, and after being assured

by the

hearty

German

old

that

the

cattle

properly tended, and seeing to Breezy himself

which brought the old trader's his

back with

'

fat

'

—the

— an

act

hand down upon

Goot poy: alvays dake gare

goot horse youzelf

were

of

your

house was re-entered, the

door shut, and the host stood up, closed his eyes, and said a prayer in his native tongue, ending

Dyke

by

blessing

in true patriarchal fashion.

That night Dyke slept as he had not weeks, and

woke up

slept

for

the next morning wondering that

he could feel so fresh and well, and expecting to see Kaffir

Jack at the other end of the wagon, curled up

in a blanket

quarters,

;

but though the dog was in his old

Jack was absent, and Dyke supposed that

he was asleep beneath.

CHAPTER

XIV.

A KESTING-PLACE.

OU

are petter as cfFer

you

vas,

heh

?'

cried

the old trader, thrusting his face in be-

tween the canvas curtains

of the

wagon

end. '

'

tog

Good-morning/

Yes, quite well.

Ach ?

zo.

It

You

vill

Morgenstern.

mended and pite

The

say

He

all

is

how

fat hand, as

to

you are

to

dem

is

alt

der

Oom

goot tog ten, and getting himself

ofer hims,

man

Ant how

a cjoot morninofs.

ferry quickly.

old

had the

is

How

vas

it

he shall pe scratch

heh V

patted and stroked the dog with his

big-

he spoke in a soft soothing tone, %yhich

effect of

making him the

best of friends with

Duke, who whined and licked at the hand, and kept

up a regular throbbing pat-pat-pat upon the the wagon. L

floor of

A KESTING-PLACE.

178

*Ach pe

yes. ten,

zo

effer

much

he

a ferry goot togs, and he shall

Ant zo der pig spotty

petter zoon.

gom und dake

gat

is

him, heh V

Yes, poor fellow, one of the great brutes pounced

'

upon

hira suddenly, and fetched

the wagon,' said Dyke.

'

him from

You were

right under

bad, weren't you,

Duke, old chap V

The dog threw up and then began

head and uttered a loud howl,

his

by the leopard s

to lick the cuts torn

sharp claws. '

Ach

he vas pad,

!

ist

goot vizzick for goots und

ist

as goot as his tooses ist pad.

What

!

It

head.

was guide '

;

eaten oop

alife,

am happy

'

was afraid

tongue

you zhoot

zo

Yes, I shot and of hitting the

the old man, nodding his

—yon

away den hund. it

is

do noding, and der

You do

petter than

das you hafe zave den tog. ist

shoode,

und

hims to be

leopard.

He

is

TaO

\

a goot

a goot vrient out in der veldt.

you gom mit me, und friihstlick.

for

und you may shoode den

und a goot tog

Now zom

I

right,' said

you shoode him,

tog,

but

You do not shoode

leopards garry

I

tog's

I fired, though, as a last chance.'

dog.

if

Ant

—the leopard V said Dyke.

hit him, I suppose

'

Der

pites.

*But das

V

hims, heh '

man.

den,' said the old

die alte

You know what

voman

ist

das?'

give us bode

:

A UESTING-PLACE.

Dyke shook *Das

his head.

Deutsch for breakfass, main j^oung

goofc

isfc

179

vrient/

Oh, I

*

Nein, nein, nein, goot

cried

see,'

say Deutsch

'

I never learnt

'

Nein.

gom

did

I

Dere

ist

Deutsch/

the Kaffir

?

Is

Dyke

he lying

'Nein/ cried the old

me gom,

zee

shoost

big shdick, he horse, as

he

old

eagerly.

—

down under

man

when

sharply.

it ist

*

But how

the

wagon

is

on.

Jack

?'

*As zoon as he

morgen, und he zee mein

shoomp oop und go und veed den pferd

know he

you, now, and

The

did

Sh arm any dwenty

ofer from

blendy of Dutch Boer varder

1 11 recollect/ said

'

I

—Sharmans.'

But you are a Boer, are you not V

am

Dutch/

Not Dutch.

bube.

'

year ago. I

Dyke.

*

work

should.

He 's

guide well, dank

ferry hart, like a goot poy.'

man wrinkled up

his face, shut his eyes,

and

indulged in a hearty, silent laugh. '

'

am

I

und

I

zorry,'

he said, suddenly growing serious

veed and nurse a boor mans, und I zay to him

"Lie you there und go to sleep Boot Meinheer Jack he zee

all

froo him.

shdick.

you

;

shall

you are

besser,"

a pig hoomboogs, and I gan

Dunder and lightning!

Now gom gom

ist

dill

und haf den

I gif

breakfast,

indo mein shdore, und

puy

him dcr

und den

die mealies,

180

A KESTINO-PLACE.

und

unci gorn,

und

dea,

gofFee,

und

und bay me den money, und we

Den

der vorks

me

dalk do

done,

is

dwo

day.

who want '

Yes, I

'

Das

und

Den you go pack you ferry

to see

want

to get

ist goot,

to

sit

resht die bullocks

your pig bruder,

pad.'

back

Dyke.

again,* said

Und

again.

vrient, I will dell

you zomedings

You

osdridoje

him der

und

while I shmoke

bud you moost haf a goot long

und go guide well

dell

gom und

birds,

rest yourself,

zhiigars,

den wagon.

will load shall

about die osdridge

mein bibe und you for

und you

und

rice,

to dell

no

ist

my

now,

boot dey go zick, und guarrel, und

fight,

von anoder und eferybodies, und preak

younger

dem I

o'oot.

resht,

bruder.

haf dried,

und ghick

die legs

und

;

hens lay dere nests vull of pig eggs, und die

die

gom und shoomp upon

hocks

ovaire gustard

all

You

und

dem bruder

dell

diamonds in der

die

shell,

'em,

und make der

feet

und den no jickens gom.

dot your beebles haf been vinding veldt,

und he had

petter go

und

look vor die brescious shdones, und nod preak lush hart

gock osdridge preak die eggs his weibs

like der *

Yes, I

him '

to

Ach

'11

tell

him, Herr

come and look !

der golt

to look for

den

die diamonds/

ist

golt.

for

Morgenstern.

lays.'

I did

want

o*old.'

no goot, bube.

You

dell

him

Efferypoty goes to

go und look for

A UESTINa-PLACE. *

Yes, but where

'

Dunder und

two pig wagon dings,

und

V

said

liorhtnino-

to

dem

Dyke !

zoni

und goot

diamonds vas here

more. all

;

und

mein goot dings

You must go und

ofers,

und

dell

bood der are diamonds to be found.

you shdop dat ruck a dongue

dake

I should

place, all vull of mealies

vind die places evcryvere not,

know,

to vind, I should zell

und go und vetch

ken

drily.

If I

dell die beebles die

vhen dcy gom

181

of yours,

me.

I

Now

und do not

gom und hafc gom after us init

dalk zo motch like an old vool, und

zom

breakfast, or the old frau vill

a shdick.'

He winked _the house, delicious

comically at Dyke, and led the

way

to

where there was a warm welcome, and a

breakfast of

bread and

milk

and

coffee

waiting, with glorious yellow butter and fried bacon to follow.

'

CHAPTER XV OOM UOliGENHTEliN a SEKMON.

UKE

was fed

curled

up

Cfuide

well

Dyke came from

ing^

drivinir

directly after the meal,

afterward ao'ain

as

across Jack,

the bullocks

'

ged

effers.'

hiniselfs

Soon

who was

down

and now carefully saw

for water,

to

to

and

after

return-

the stream

to their being in the

best bit of the old man's pasture for a good feed and rest. '

Ach

zo

!'

cried the old

mein young

You gan go

vrient.

to

man,

— You

'

he

ist

a creat deal petter,

Shack, you hafe work well.

mein haus, und

die frau will give

blenty of mealie gake und zoni milk.

You

you

don't eat

doo niotch, or you will pe pad again, und want dem shdick.

You oontershdant

?

Jack, whose face had been very pitiful and pleading,

brightened up at

this,

and ran toward the house, while

old Morgenstern turned of

liis

winks.

and favoured Dyke with one

OOM mougenstern's kermon. *

You

sliild

my

zee now,

younger

163

vrient, he ist like a pig

You must

dot has been oop der shimney.

You did hid doo zoft.' Why, I thought I had Dyke.

hid

him hart negs dime. *So£t!* cried

killed

^

him/ *

Ach, yes, you dought zo

sehr dick.

You

but der plack man's hetis

;

hid an Englishman, or a Deutschman,

or a Boer, and his het ist tin

;

but a plack man's het

dink zomdimes ven he

dick.

I

ist all

hart bone right froo.

ist

But

so shdupid dot

not zo

it ist

is it

it is

;

only dot dey are shdupid liddle shildren, und dink of noting bud eat und drink und shleep demselfs as long as ever dey gan

man oud

;

dot

You

is all.

man^

of a plack

if

Now

zoap in der world.

can noffer

make a whide

you wash him mid den, der tog

gom

der horse, und die pullocks, so you shall

und

right,

is

der

all

my

to

shdore.*

He

way

led the

to a barn-like building,

where he

kept the supplies he dealt in and prospered over,

settlei's

and travellers coming from far to purchase of the old fellow again and again, for he bore the proud

honest

man —a

that of rogue. corn, meal,

that

title

And

bacon,

is

here

tea,

known abroad

Dyke produced

sugar,

coffea,

of

as soon as

his

and

title

list,

salt

and were

measured and weighed out by the help of a Kaffir boy, and

set aside

till all

was done, when the old man, who

COM mokgenstern's sermon.

184?

had kept account

througli with a clean, smooth box-

all

and a piece of chalk, seated himself on a

lid

added up and presented the wooden There/ he said

'

feel

ashamed

bruder

it is

to jarge so

me

c-ost

it

' ;

as

Dyke.

bill to

a creat teal of money,

motch

motch

dings oop to mein haus.

but you

;

und

I

dell der pig

as effer vas to

2;et

die

all

der

dwo wagon

zend

I

cask,

vays do der down, und dey are gone for months, und die

men und

dimes die

lions

wheels

gom

und I

lose

for '

mein

My

die

off,

all

ead

oxen,

die

und dere

is

a creat deal.

I

me

to

brother

knows

you instead

you would be '

und

zomdimes

vloods und

die

die

wasser,.

gannod jarge any

less

diners/ all that, sir,' said

he paid the money at once.

as

haf to ead, und zom-

pullocks

of to

Oom

'

He

Dyke

said he

frankly,

would send

Schlagen, because, he said,

just.'

Did your pig bruder say dot

? '

cried the old

man

eagerly.

He

*Yes.

said I should

twenty long miles *

Ach

!

come

to you,

though

it

was

farther.'

den now I shall go und shmoke mein piggest

Dot does me

bibe for a dreat.

a pig fool

;

zo

neighbour and

ist

eftery

goot.

man who

Oom

Schlagen

does not lofe his

zay his brayers effery night.

oondershtand, mein younger vriend.'

is

You

OOM MOKGEXSTELINS

Dyke nodded,

feeling

at

185

HEKJLON.

first

amused,

half

tlien

*

impressed by the simple-hearted old German's manner.

'Zom men gome out here "

Ach

und

here,

sheat,

I zhall

und

and zay

do whad I

like,"

goot for demselfs, und

all

und den dey rob und

und drink more

as ist

pecause they are pig

fools.

die plack poys,

kill

:

me

a pig open blace, und nopody gan zee

is

it

!

into die veldt

For you haf read for youselfs, mein younger vrient, dot

God

is

efterywhere und zees

gannot hide youselfs, or what you

mein sermon, und

Bud

zo short.

down

took

keg

dot

Now den,' he

pecause I veel as

'

I

if

am lit

's

it is

continued, as he fill

it

from a

going to shmoke mein bibe,

I vas a goot

struck a match,

dot

Pecause

?

a great pipe, and began to

of tobacco,

He

's all.

Und

do.

a goot one, hey

it is

und you

efFery dings,

up,

great clouds of smoke, he

poy/

and as he began

to emit

carefully stamped out the

spark from the splint of wood, reseated himself,

last

and chuckled. *

all

You wait

dill I

haf finish mein bibe, und

you look

und der

is

here.

I dell

you about

die

hartly any potty yet as

zoon as I haf dell you, I zay to myselfs Morgenstern, you are not a old

fi'au,

who gannot keep

man you :

a

zecrefc.

diamonds

know :

vill

dem wagon.

go to vork, und pack desc dings in

Now

we

"

—und

Ach

!

as

Hans

are chattering

You go

dell

'

OOM MOllGENSTEUNS SERMON.

186 efierypotfcy."

Und

an old durakopf *

*

—

I vas ferry zorry pecause I vas soch

you know what dot Dyke,

is

?

Something

head,' said

Yaas,

your thick head, poy, shdupid head, und

it ist

I vas gross

smiling.

mit myzelf, bud now I

am

bruder zaid I vas honest mans, und magistrate,

I

dry to

is

know

it,

I

Netfer mind.

am

glad

Your bruder

diamonds. to

wasde

his

gom mit

his

now ist

I

am just, und

I

die Kaffirs

I did deli

you about

die

a gendlemans, und you dell

und

if

wagon, und get

die lono- shanks,

honest man, und he

is

and

he wands shdores, to

all

ged das money, und he gan bay

he wands, und

Zom day

mo

den.

mein

if

Ach he

vrient,

he

he will

!

zaid

und dot

der zweetest bibe of dobacco I ever shmoke.

gom und

kill

man, und gom

gannot bay me, id does not madder.

I vas a

make him

for den alt

dime over

to go for die diamonds,

den

you laugh yourselfs pecause

und gom und work

pack again.

him not

!

a

zay der

I

but you shall not beat und

Ach

for nodings.

use den shdick.

;

pi

am

I vail out mit

a pig shdupid shild, und you must

do what you want

him

und

be,

I

just.

und zom oder white men, pecause

Boers, Kaffir

und

Der

glad.

is

Now

help load den wagon, like a goot poy, and

zom day, when you grow a pig man, you may to fehmoke doo.

Boot

it ist

not goot for poys.'

learn

;

CHAPTER

XVI.

A DEAD CHKCK.

WO

pleasant, restful days under the green

eaves store,

but his brother,

at

Morgenstern's

old

and

farm

and he was pressed to stay another

Dyke was

anxious

to

get back

to

and with Duke limping about, the horse

and bullocks looking quite fresh and

well,

everything

loaded up carefully, and a cask of sweet, pure water slung at the back of the wagon,

dawn ready

stood at early

to start.

The oxon were yoked and

boom and

Dyke

hifcched

on to

tlie

trek tow, breakfast was over, and

disselall

was

read)^ with Jack flourishing his great long whip of

hippopotamus hide, eager to

start.

Just then the hospitable old Kaffir to

dog

come

as well.

alongside,

German signed

to the

and a chirrup brought up the

'

A DEAD CHECK.

188 '

Now, mein

oondershtand goot Engliscli, zo vel ash me, zo

you

und know a

I

you are efFer

to hear.

you

Duke '

lot.

Das

vas,

heh

Jack

am

am

a creat magistrate,

going to dalk to dot

tog,

und

you are better

tog,

as

?

Now

ist

you are going

to Kopt'ontein.'

loudly.

Now

good, too.

you

I dell

—you know Kaffir Jack— dot

He

you gan

you gannot shpeak him

I

listen.

'

barked. ist goot.

Das

if

— Now, my goot

The dog barked *

the old man,

said

vrient/

dis

:

Kaffir

if

him.'

is

clapped his hand on the black's shoulder, and the

dog barked excitedly. *

Yaas, you

know him und ;

I dell

you dot

if

he does

not work, you are to bide him/

The

dog's hair rose up,

to run, but the big fat *

Und

then,

ferry pad,

him, hey

and Jack made a movement

hand held him

mein goot

tog, if

fast.

you do

und perhaps go mad.

dot,

I mean,

if

he

vill

be

you bide

?'

The dog barked

furiously,

and Jack's blackish

face

turned of a horrible dirty gray as he stood shivering,

having pretty well understood every word. '

Dot

oxen,

is

right

und pe

The

;

und now

a goot poy.

Kaffir sprang

Kaffir

Now

Jack

you

away, whip

go.

will drive die

Trek!'

in hand, the willing

A DEAD CHECK. oxen began to the soft sand,

and the wagon went

pull,

Duke hurrying

in front of the

'I

through

off

to his place beneath, just

water cask, while

hand, waiting to shake

laughed

189

Dyke

hands with

stood, rein in

his

who

host,

softly.

dalk

all

dot nonsense do vrighten hiui like a

shild/ he said.

'

Ho

vill

pe a goot poy

now

till

he

begin to forgot, und den you must vrighten him doo.

Now

goot-pye,

und der goot God

bless

mein

you,

sohn/

Dyke shook hands warmly with man, sprang upon

Breezj^,

wagon, which was

going

the friendly old

and soon overtook the along

steadily

the

faint

track.

He

glanced back several

seeing the old trader

thiies,

standing in front of his house smoking his big pipe,

but at last he was invisible, and the boy set himself to achieve his

hopeful,

rested,

long, slow,

and

five

ready,

or six days' journey,

feeling

as

if

all

was

going to be right, and more happy in his mind than

he had been for days.

As he went on and bright, every place,

wore a very

on,

made

fresh,

familiar

different aspect,

by

light-hearted,

and

halts as he came,

and there were times when

he smiled at some of the petty vexations, though others

were serious enough.

For instance, by

this

water.

A DEAD CHECK.

190

where he had had

much

so

for the day's journey

difficulty in getting

had been very

long,

and

wood,

was

it

growing dark when he halted, and a distant roar told o£ the possibility of a visit loss of

from

one of the bullocks.

But now

and pleasant, the evening was

and Jack soon

too weary,

and perhaps the

lions,

all

was smooth

glorious, the

collected

oxen not

enough wood for

cooking and keeping up a roaring blaze.

The next day, guinea-fowl

fell

too,

was hot and

pleasant.

Several

to Dyke's gun, and he shot a dangerous

viper which raised track, threatening,

its

head sluggishly from the sandy

with gleaming eyes and vibrating

tongue, the barking dog, which kept cautiously beyond strikini!^ distance.

making the It

There were

cattle uneasy,

was wonderful

lions

but they were not molested.

as a contrast that journey back,

and Dyke often asked himself, sometimes to the

heard in the night,

side,

as

he cantered about,

sometimes letting the wacfon

go for some distance forward, whether he had not been of poor heart,

troubles

;

had had a

and had made too much

fuss over his

but second thoughts convinced him that he terrible task,

and he almost wondered that

he had been able to roach Morgenstern's at

Jack was the very perfection

of

all.

a Kaffir servant

now, driving splendidly, and taking the greatest care as to the pasturing

and watering

of the

cattle

;

his

A DEAD CHECK.

young master never having

191

to find fault

with a single

thing.

But there was the reason plainly enough smiled to himself as he thought of

how

;

and Dyke

easily the black

had been impressed by the big old German, though he felt

that Jack's

do with

guilty conscience had

something

it.

Oddly enough, the

dog's behaviour during the return

journey helped to keep Jack in order.

though his hurts were mending weak.

to

He was ready

to

fast,

For Duke,

was

still

very

bark and make plenty of fuss

over his master, but he did not evince the slightest desire to trot after

wagon.

him when he rode away from the

Duke seemed

went back directly

know

to

to his place

wheels of the wagon.

own

powers, and

between the two hind

There he stayed, keeping step

But

pretty well with the bullocks.

Jack proceeded

his

at every halt,

gather wood, drive the oxen to

to

water or pasture, the dog followed close at his

making no demonstration ing, but

when

heels,

of friendliness, never bark-

walking with lowered head and surly look,

just behind, .stopping returnin<x,

and never

when

the black did, going on or

leavinef

him

for a

moment, and

ending by going back to his place under the wagon,

and there resting

Of

his

course, all this

head upon

was the

his paws.

sick dog*s natural objection

;

A DEAO CHECK.

192 to being left alone

;

but to Jack

it

meant a great

deal

That dog had always been rather unfriendly,

more.

and was evidently a very uncanny kind of

which could understand everything that was

beast,

said to

and would fully carry out the old German's

him,

instructions,

Duke

followed him about to see that

he did his work properly, and as Jack walked often felt the sensation in his calves

known

on,

he

as pins

and needles, which made him wince and tremble and on one occasion ho uttered a

j'ell

of horror, for

the dog's cold nose touched one of his bare ankles,

and made him bound a couple of yards. For

to

him there was no doubt about

Duke was watching

whatever.

and the moment he relaxed his teeth

would

close

upon

his leg

;

the matter

everything efforts,

and

if

he did,

those white

he had been

talked to and argued w^ith for a week, he would never

have believed that he would not for a certainty go mad,

die,

and be thrown out upon the sands

jackals and vultures which

hung about

to the

their niglitly

camps.

The consequence was tripling tlie

mishaps which

South African

that,

befall

deserts,

to gallop

wagon

travellers

through

Dyke's return journey was

peaceful and enjoyable, even

have liked

saving a few of the

if

slow.

He would

forward to get nearer home

often ;

but

A DEAD CHECK.

him

the wai:ron held

he thoroughly

193

us a maf^net does

fulfilled the trust

placed in

and

bar,

its

him by

his

brother.

At

last the

morning dawned when a steady day's

work would bring them once, they got

dine

and

rest

during the hottest part of the day.

late

was determined

evening perhaps, but

in the

settled

mid-day

the wa£Con-tilt would

down

Dyke

be

o-atherino*

all

in the shelter of the

than

halt,

useful

besides keeping off the sun.

had been

brino*

to finish before he slept.

Hardly had they for that

river to ford a couple

little

and then twelve miles would

of miles farther on,

wagon

at

for throe hours; halted again to

After which there was the

them home,

and starting

on a few miles before halting for break-

Then went on

fast.

to Kopfontcin,

Dyke found

somethincr else

for

For some clouds which

the morninc^, centred them-

selves at last directly overhead

;

there

was a succession

of terrific peals of thunder following

upon blinding

which seemed to play

flashes of lightning,

that

all

round

and about the wagon, making Breezy stand shivering as he pressed close too'ether

up alongside, and drew the

with their heads inward, as

if

for

cattle

mutual

protection.

Then down came

tlie

for a good hour flash

rain in a perfect deluge,

and peal seemed

M

to be

and

engaged

A DEAD CHECK.

194 in trying to tear

up the

from which the great

clouds,

drops of rain poured down.

The storm ceased

quickly as

as

come

Iiad

it

and the rain having been sucked up by the

on,

tliirst}-,

sandy earth, so that when they started again, save that the wagon-cover

streaming, there

was soaked, drawn

was no sign

tight,

and

for a while of the storm.

There were certainly the clouds fading in the distance, but the sky overhead was of a glorious blue, the

herbage they passed was newly washed and

and the drops

left

sparkled

in

little

clean,

the brilliant

sun-

shine.

What

followed, tlicn,

They had gone on denly recurred to little

river

;

came

for

Dyke

but

this,

it

sud-

that they had to cross the time, he

first

murmur,

became

as of insects swarm-

though continuous, did not take his

attention much, for he insects,

some distance before

and now, for the

conscious of a low, soft ing,

as a surprise.

set

it

down

to

a cloud of

roused from their torpor by the sun, and now

busily feeding, perliaps, close at hand, though invisible as he rode gently along, breathing in with delight the r

sweet, cool

But

grown rein

air.

at the

end of half an hour the

louder,

and

it

by some bushes

sounded louder to

let

murmur had

stiJI

as

lie

drew

Breezy crop the moist

A DEAD CHECK. shoots, \vliile it

beino' '

he waited for

tlto

105

^va(J^on

to

come

up,

about half a mile behind.

How

tlionght

slowly and deliberately those beasts do move/

Dyke, as he watched the

six sleek oxen, not

a bit the worse for their journey, plodding gTavel}''

along with the wagon lightly laden, as six beasts to draw,

it

was, for

bumping and swaying every now

and then as a stone or two stood up through the sand, he not being there to point

who

black,

to

the

on the wagon-box, with his chin upon

sat

his breast, rousing himself his

them out

from time to time to crack

whip and shout out some jargon

to the bullocks.

These took not the slightest notice of whip-crack or shout, but plodded slowly along, tossing their heads

now and

then,

and

brino-ino'

their horns in contact

with a loud rap.

At dark

last

they came up

face,

and grinned meaningly.

'What home

Oh

home

Dyke.

it?' said

and Jack turned his

'Glad you are so near

?'

'No *

is

al)reast,

see

Tanta Sal

yes,

befoi-e

niglit,'

we

will,'

vi'e

sleep.'

he

replied

said.

Dyke.

'I

mean

to be

Jack shook his head. 'YoTi'll see, 'Jf

my

you are going

fine fellow,' said

to begin

D^dce to himself.

any games just

for a

fiiiish

A DEAD CHECK.

196 off

on the

last day,

set

Duke

at him,

you

yon

find

'11

'11

be startled.

I

and scare the beggar/ he muttered, as

he lauo'hed to himself at the man's Q-enuine belief

and alarm about, the dog Jack hopping about and

down from

the

and

;

and afraid

j^clling,

wagon-box

front

in

trying to drag him let

the

hung back

in,

he saw

in imagination

come

to

on account of

Duke, who would be barkino- and dancinc^ about

He

'11

as

if

off.

wagon go on then

so as to say a

for a

few yards, and

few cheery words

to the dog,

wdio responded with a sharp bark or two, but did not

come from beneath the

wao*on.

And now the noise grew louder and last Dyke began to divine the cause. A

short distance

was crossed by an

erratic line of

farther the open plain trees

and

I'ocks,

till

and down

j^ards wide,

close up, there

was the

which he had halted on

at

till

at

forming a green and gray zigzag of

some three hundred hidden

louder,

his

in a hollow,

rivulet-like stream

outward way

to

let

the animals drink. It

ing

was from

murmur

I'apidly

there, then, that the

arose,

and pressing

now

rapidly increas-

his nag's sides, he rode

on to reach the side of the tiny bourn, which

now proved

to be a fierce

torrent nearly a hundred

yards wide, raging amongst rocks, tossing up beady spray, and putting an end to

all

his hopes of reaching

A DEAD CHECK.

home

that night, for even as he looked he could see

that the water ford

197

was

meant certain

Avard way.

to

man and beast. He knew now tlie meaning

of

still;

deatli to

Dyke's heart sank. the Kaffir's grin.

and any attempt

rising

It

was the

first

trouble of the home-

CHAPTER

XVII.

OUT OF PATIEXCE.

HE

wagon came slowly up

as

Dyke

stood

watchino' the roanno- river, full from side to

side

with the waters, which resulted

from a cloud-burst tains,

in

the distant moun-

where storms had been raging on the previous

day, that which they had encountered a short time

before being the remains of one of the drifts which

had passed over the great

As he drove

plain.

up, Jack sat grinning pleasantly

the box, and of his

own

M'ill

upon

turned the bullocks into a

meadow-like opening, whose fresh herbage, sparkling still

with clinging raindrops^

set the

animals lowing

with satisfaction before stooping from time to time to snatch a mouthful of the

Jack evidently thought for a

u'rass. it

would be a splendid place

camp, and without waiting for orders, shouted to

OUT OF PATIENCE. the bullocks to

Dyke

and descending from his

.stop,

laying- aside his

took in every action, knowing tlmt

meant

was the across

seat, after

whip, began to outspan.

own

only an endorsement of his river

199

thoughts that

it

was

tlie

full

in all probability a halt for days.

possibility of his being able to

somewhere higher np

or lower

swim

There

his horse

down but ;

after

a few minutes' inspection he felt that this was quite hopeless, though, even

knew

'

it

had been

so near

home

Might have known/ he said

Everything was going on too

.'

to himself bitterly.

easily.

might have stopped for another day or

He

tried

calmly, but

was too hard work,

it

the outspanning, as

if

especially, too,

tj^lee,

with nothing to do but eat and

and

let

two.'

him begin

draught oxen

;

when

and bustled about

looking forward to some days of

The boy thought hard cob,

But the rain

hard to be j)hilosophic and to take matters

the Kaffir seemed in such hio-h

rest,

practicable^ he

that he could not leave his charf^e.

So vexatious when '

if

sleep.

as he dismountedj hobbled his

to graze in

company with the

but he soon gave that up, and went and

full well the rushino* river, knowini^ stood watchinix n

that he

was completely shut away from Kopfontein,

and that he could do nothing but wait patiently the river sank to

its

old leveL

till

OUT OF PATIENCE.

200 '

And

that/ he said dismally,

Things might

have

been

'

will be quite a

In

worse.

week/ some

fact,

people would have been delighted with the position.

For the spot was beautiful

;

the

wagon

foru^ed a com-

and water were

fortable

sleeping

plentiful,

and there was ample opportunity for adding

by lying

to the larder

provisions

tent,

in wait at early

morning and

came

birds and animals which

late eveninix for the

from far out in the desert to drink. In

during

fact,

Dyke

dreary wait,

his

tried

to

amuse himself by watching the various animals that

came down one deeply trampled side of

with

track,

on

either

which the place was thickly bushed and dotted

fine forest trees, well

grown, from their nearness

to water.

Antelopes of gazelles

up

delighted

dozen

to the great eland.

by the coming

giraffes,

watchino-

many kinds came down, from

itself

One morning he was

of a little herd

them drink

;

the towerinf^ bull of

by

to reach the

about

straddlincj out its fore-

the most ungraceful way,

enough

of about a

and he crouched among the bushes,

eiij:hteen feet in heio-ht bei^an

legs in

tiny

till

water with

it

could lower

its lips.

Another time he was startled by the coming huo*e

white rhinoceros, which careered

bushes in a

fierce,

throuii'h

determined way, displaying

of a

the its

OUT OF PATIENCE.

201

great power and indifference to every other beatst of the forest.

came once and pulled down an antelope,

Lions, too,

iimking the wai^on cattle extremely uneasy, but going

away

after their banquet,

and troubling the camp no

more.

But the

remained as

river

rushing furiously down, and

full as ever,

the waters

Dyke grew angry

at last

ao'ainst his brother.

'Joe

knows I'm

have come

to

overdue,' he said,

to see

why

full.

It s too bad.

perhaps he

And bip'i:^est

'11

come

and he ought

am detained. Why, after have known that the river would

that rain he ought to

be

*

I

I

thought better of him

;

but

to-day.'

with this hope the boy chmbed one of the rocks to wdiere he could o-aze across the river

and over the plain on the other

side,

looking out in

expectancy of seeing the big w'eedy horse his brother rode comino* toward the ford, but he watched in vain

day

after

day, wdiile Jack kept

the

fire

going,

and

cooked and ate and slept wuthout a care, not even seemino'

to

Kopfontein, else '

but his

invQ or,

a

thouij^ht

the

wife waiting- at

judging from appearances, to anything

own

desires.

I should like to kick

said to himself;

to

*

him

—a

lazy brute!'

Dyke

but there's nothing to kick him for

OUT OF PATIENCE.

202

He

now.

docs

all

temper at having'

there

to do.

is

I

suppose I 'm out of

Here

to wait so.

's

week

a whole

gone, and the river higher than ever.'

Dyke had one

other novelty to study

to hini, for previously

he had seen but

little

This novelty was a party of baboons of the big, heavy males

down

—a

of them.

all sizes,

young

to the

novelty

ones,

from

which

approached from some distance on the

otiier side^ cling-

ing to their mothers' backs and necks.

These strange,

dog-like creatures cauie

down from

a high clump of

rocks or kopje regularly every evening in the same way;

and though they had been heard and seen frequently during the daytime, chattering, barking, and gauibolimj-

about, chasincf one another in and out, and over

the stones, as

if

thoroughly enjoying the sport, toward

the time for their visit to the river silent,

and

in a cautious, watchful

who seemed

would be very

way a

big old male,

to be the captain or chief of the clan,

would suddenly

trot out

there carefully scanning plain

all

beyond for danger.

on to a big block, and stand tlie

patch of forest and the

Then he would change

to

a nearer natural watch-tower, and have another long scrutiny,

enemy,

down

examining every spot likely

till,

apparently

to the river

lookout.

satisfied,

to harbour

an

he would descend, go

and drink, and then

trot

back

to his

OUT OF

208

PATIKNX'E.

After a few minutes' watch, he would then give a signal,

a quick,

sliort,

barking sound, at which the

moment

rocks beyond, which the

suddenly became alive with baboons of

to be deserted, all

sizes,

before had appeared

which came running down

perfect confidence that all chief high

was

well,

to the

water in

and that their old

up on the rock would give them

fair

warn-

ing of the approach of any of their feline enemies, leopard

or

lion,

with

a taste for the semi-human

kind.

Upon one

occasion

Dyke suddenly

up,

started

shouted, and fired his gun, for the sake of seeing wdiat effect it

would have.

Instant flight he felt sure

;

but he was not prepared

for all that followed.

At the qui

first

'peibt ;

sound there was a rush

but there w^as a method in

—a regular sauve

it.

Mothers caught

them for protection, and

up their

little ones, wdiicli fied to

one

male made a kind of demonstration to cover

the

bio'

flight,

while the old fellow on the rock sprang

about, barkincT, shoutini:^,

and makinfj

little charc^es

the interrupter, not leaving his post

till all

their sanctuary, wdien he followed

to the

turned with

others to

at

had reached kopje,

stand, barking hoarsely,

and and

picking up and throwing stones, with every sign of

angry defiance,

till

their persecutor disappeared.

OUT OF PATIENCE.

204

Nine days had passed, and then the

river

began to

shrink rapidly.

Dyke

hailed the chancre with eaii'erness, for he had

been growing terribly anxious, and more and more convinced that somethiniic must be wron^:, or

Emson would

have come down

while at last

his thoughts

had taken a

perform

—that

;

definite shape, one so

full

he trembled for the task he had to

horroi', that

of

flooded ford

to the

going

of

home

to put matters to the

proof.

He

shivered at the idea, for

now he upon

only

could

his brother's

place

this

silence

—he must have come to meet him, tried to swim

his

horse

interpretation

terrible

across

the

and

river,

have been

swept

away.

That

last

night was almost sleepless, for whenever

the boy dropped

off,

with the light of the

up glancing on the canvas, he

fire

they kept

started back into wakeful-

ness a^ain, wonderinor whether the river

was

still ojoinnf

down, or some fancied sound meant a fresh accession to the flood-waters cominof

The moi-ning broke wagon. Dyke followed

ran

by the

down from

at last,

and leaping out

down toward

dog,

now

the mountains.

the

little

closely

nearly recovered, scaring

away a buck which had been lurking the graceful

river,

of the

creature bounding

in the covert,

away

before

him

OUT OF PATIENCE. giving pretty good proof

205

of the satisfactory state of

the river hy dashing over the tliick bed o£ intervening-

and

sand and stones, splashing through the water,

bounding up the other

side.

The waters were down, leaving a deep bed

of sand,

and with a place to ford that was evidently not kneedeep.

Dyke

ran excitedly back, gave his orders, and to

mount on

Jack's great disgust he had to inspan,

wagon-box, and shout to the oxen to rested beasts willino-Iy

down

the

\\e\\-

the wa^^on throuo;h

draciliiijino;

the heavy loose drift and

trehy

the

into the water, wdiich

did not rise to the naves of the wheels.

It

took rather

a hard pull to get up the other side, but the difficulty

was soon mastered, the bullocks following Breezy, as

master led the way,

his

starting they

after

were at

Kopfontein, whose rocky the mornino'

Dyke is,

till

plain

;

and

last well

mound

an

hour

on the road to

stood

up

clearly in

liij^ht.

restrained his impatience a

the

half

in

wagon was

well

on

little its

longer

way

—that

over

the

then touching Breezy 's sides he went on ahead

at a gallop, the roofing of the house

and sheds gradually

growing plainer; then there were the ostrich-pens, with a few dimly seen birds stalking about, and object after object

coming rapidly into

sight.

But there was no

OUT OF PATIENCE.

206

one visible; there appeared to be no blue tliread of

smoke

in the mornino;

risinq;

was boiling the kettle and had

all

;

looked wonderfully

still,

not been for the ostriches here and there,

it

Dyke would have been was

where Tanta Sal

air.

disposed to think the place

deserted.

On, again

still

nearer and nearer, but no one appeared, and

still

nearer,

and

his lips parted to utter a loud

shout to announce his coming'.

But somehow the cry froze dared not utter

it

;

and

in his throat,

the place was deserted, he

Tanta Sal must have gone

he

felt sure.

her tribe after the

off to seek

Dyke felt sure now that his and that Emson had been drowned

terrible catastrophe, for

surmise was right,

in trying to ford the river

1

and come to meet him. 4

The boy's

spirits

sank lower and lower as he cheeked

his horse's pace to a canter,

upon the and

soft

hushing the beat of

sand as he rode on, seeing no one

at last, in the deepest despair, feeling as

go no sound

But just

farther. fell

upon

sudden and so

his

at that

ear,

gi'eat that

moment

Dyke

been letting his imagination run nothiuf^f

stirring,

if

he dare

a low crooning

and the reaction was so nearly shouted aloud

as he pressed on to the door, feeling

was

its feet

now

riot,

whatever the matter.

his brother's tall o-aunt horse Gfra/inir

that he had

and that there

In

fact,

where

it

that was

had been

:

OUT OF FATIKNCE.

207

hidden from his sight by one of the low, shed-like Luil dings. *

What

himself.

a lot of stuff one can fancy!' '

got up.

Wliy,

I'll

it 's

give

.said

to

early yet, and poor old Joe hasn

him such a

over the cob's head, as

t

ronser.'

The next minute he had pulled up, thrown

the open

Dyke

his rein

he dismounted, and ran to

doorway from whence came the crooning

sound. '

Morning, Tant,' he cried to the \voman,

crouched together on the

Then

who

sat

floor.

as his eyes caught sight of the pallet in the

corner of the room, he shouted 'Joe, old '

man, what

No makee

shoo.

is it ?

noisj^' cried

Baas Joe go

die.'

Are you the

V

ill

woman

' ;

slioo,

shoo,

CHAPTER A TEST OF

YKE

XYIII.

.^fAXirOOD.

uttered a cry of horror as he ran to

bedside and

the

sank

upon

his

knees,

gazing wildly in his brother's dark, thin

with

face,

sign of

wild eyes, in which was no

its

though Emson kept on mutter-

recognition,

ing in a low voice. 'Joe

— Joe, old fellow, don't you know me was no

Tliere

Dyke caught '

Speak

ill ?

to

What

his burning,

me

'How

!

is it,

No answer turned to

tlie

loner CD

;

'

he

Joe

and

his

agony

of

dry hand, and pressed

cried.

?

in

'

How

Tell me.

spirit it.

long have you been

What am

I to

do V

but the mutterino: went on, and Dvke

Kaffir

woman.

has he been

*Baas Joe go head.

reply,

?'

die,'

ill

said

V the

woman, nodding her

•

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

'No, no;

taken

When was

he will be better soon.

persistence.

woman

'

No eat—no

drink

—no

'Go away!' cried Dyke wildly.

The woman

smiled, for

The gesture

word.

and she went

'Joe

!'

cried

me, old chap

Go

sleep.

!'

did not understand a

vshe

was

suffi-

out, leaving the brothers alone.

wildly.

Can't you

want

to help you, but I

What

can I do

'

tell

am

you speak

Can't

me what

so stupid

to do

?

to I

and ignorant.

?'

The muttering went

on,

and the big

erst strong

slowly rolled his head from side to side, staring into the past,

die.'

are as bad as

of pointing to the door

Dyke

?

with horrible

'You

Get out

one of those horrible birds.

tlie

he

ill ?'

'Baas Joe go die/ said the

cient,

200

and sending a

chill of

man

away

horror through

boy.

For a few moments into

his

hands, and

Dyke bowed

uttered

his

head right

a low groan of

agony,

completely overcome by the horror of his position

—

alone there in that wild place, five or six days' journey

from any one, and hundreds of miles from a doctor, even

He

if

he had

known where

to go.

broke down, and crouched there by the bedside

completely prostrate for a few minutes

Then the

terrible

emergency

N

stirred

—not him

for more.

to

action,

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

210

and he sprang up ready to

and determined

his brother's sake,

What

to

do

away

what was wrong

telling

was down with one

of

But how

if

many

so

Dyke knew

the poor fellow's

To get a doctor meant a

He

wagon.

felt that it

to do

even

him

could get

that he

back

must

to be saved.

?

and

to

make

on account of the

alone,

If he did, he felt that

he

who braved

long, long journey with a

necessit}^ for food for himself

before

was

life

his brother

would be impossible

that journey with a horse

not go.

;

of the whites

What was he

?

all.

African fevers

the terrible

the dangers of the land, and act at once

to face

?

He needed no that swept

danger for

fight the great

But he could

steed. it

with

would be weeks

medical assistance,

he reached a doctor, and could prevail upon

if

to come.

And

of this Imlf-savage

in that time Joe, left to the care

woman, who had

her mind that her master would

die,

quite

made up

would be dead

indeed.

No

:

the only chance of saving him was never to

leave his side.

Fever fever.

!

Yes, they had medicine in the house for

Quinine

Which would

Dyke

it

— Warburgh

drops

be best to give

—and

chlorodyne.

?

hurried to the chest which contained their

o c to

o

c5

o

'

A TEST OF MANHOOD. valuables the

213

and odds and ends, and soon routed out

medicines,

deciding at

upon quinine, and

once

mixing a strong dose of that at once, according to the instructions given

upon the

bottle.

That given, the boy seated himself upon a box by the bed's head, asking himself

what he ought

to

do

next.

He

took Emson's hand again, and

only, told

it

him what he knew

terrible fever raging,

terribly hot,

—that

there

but

was a

and the pulsations were quick

and heavy through the burning

A sudden

felt his pulse,

skin.

thought struck him now.

The

and he hurriedly opened the

place

little

was

window

for the -breeze to pass through.

There was an alteration in the temperatui'e at once,

buthe knew that was not door, he picked

who came '

up a bucket, and

called for

to the

Tanta

Sal,

slowly.

Baas Joe go

die.

—Jack

?

She pointed away over the '

and runnino-

enouo:h,

Yes, Jack

is

coming.

plain,

Go, quick

and Dyke nodded. !

fetch water/

The woman understood, and taking the bucket, went off at once

among The'

Dyke

towards

where the

cool spring gurgled

the rocks at the kopje. feelinfr

of

terrible horror

and fear attacked

again directly, and he shrank from going to his

;

'

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

214 brother's side,

him

leave

shame

ho should see him pass aw;iy to

lest

alone there in the desert; but a sensation of

can^e to displace the fear.

It

was

selfish,

and with a new thought coming, he went of the door, took

down

he

to the

felt

back

the great heavy scissors with

which he and Emson had often operated upon the

them

ostrich feathers, cutting

and leaving

off short,

the quill stumps in the birds' skins, where after a time

they withered and plumes. bed, he

out,

fell

giving

Then kneeling down by

place

to

new

the head of the rough

began to shear away the thick

close locks of

hair from about the sick man's temples, so that the

brain might be relieved of some of the terrible heat.

This done, he went to the chest, and got out a couple of handkerchiefs.

His stay in that torrid clime had taught him much, but he had never thought of applying a fact to the

that

purpose he

now

intended.

little

physical

For he knew

a bottle or jug of water wei-e surrounded by

if

a wet cloth and kept saturated, either in a draught or in the sun, the great evaporation which went on

would '

cool the

And

if

water within the

it Avill

do

this,'

not cool poor Joe's head

He loudly

bent down ;

over

Dyke

vessel.

thought,

*

why

will

it

?

him, and spoke

softly,

then

but Emson was perfectly unconscious, and

;

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

215

wandering in his delirium, muttering words constantly,

Dyke

but what they were

could not grasp.

In a few minutes Tanta Sal re-appeai^ed with the

bucket of cool spring-water.

Baas Joe go die/ she

'

down

set it

;

and then, without waiting

went round

go, she

to the back,

and fan the expiring

fuel

shaking her head as she

said,

make and bake a

fire,

to be told to

and began befoi^e

proceeding to

cake.

Dyke had been busy enough.

Meanwhile,

up

to pile

He had

soaked one of the handkerchiefs in the bucket, and laid

it

dripping right across Emson's brow and temples,

leaving

it

the other.

few minutes, while he prepared

there for a

The minutes were not many when he took

off the first to find

it

quite hot, and he replaced

it

with

the other, which became hot in turn, and was changed

and so he kept on for quite an hour, with the result that his

brother's

loud, so

that

catch a

but

now and then

word here and a word

su£jf:jestive

*

of

tliey

No no

good.

use.'

and

was able

to

All disconnected,

was on the

were connected with the

his ill-luck, his voice

tone as he cried

there.

rapid

less

the boy

of the trouble that

man's mind, for

and

muttcrings grew

sick birds,

taking quite a despairing

:

Failure, failure

— nothing succeeds.

It is

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

216

And '

then, in quite a piteous tone

Dyke

Poor

:

So hard for him/

!

This was too

n:iuch.

The

up

tears welled

in the

boy's eyes, but he mastered his emotion, and kept on

laying

upon

bandages

saturated

the

brother's

his

brow, watching by him hour after hour, forgetful of everything, barking, and

at

all

till

Duke

once there was

a

loud, deep

trotted into the house, to

to the bedside, i-aise himself up,

come up

and begin pawing

at

the friend he had not seen for so long. 'It's '

no good, Duke, old

he don't

know

chap,'

Go and

you.

lie

said

Dyke

sadly;

Go

down, old man.

away.'

The dog dropped down on

all-fours

at

once,

and

quickly sought his favourite place in one corner of the

room, seeming to comprehend that he was not wanted

and

there,

understanding the order to

evidently

lie

down.

The coming

of the

dog was followed by the approach

of the

wagon, and the lowing of the bullocks as they

drew

near

to

answered, and

their

Duke

familiar

quarters

the

;

cows

leaped up and growled, uttering

a low bark, but returned to his comer as soon as bidden.

At

first

Dyke had

felt

stunned by the terrible

calamity which had overtaken his brother

;

but

first

;

:

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

217

one and then another thing had been suggested to his

mind, and the busy action had seemed to clear his brain.

This cool application had certainly had some effect

and

he changed the handkerchief again, he saw

as

plainly enough

Wiping and wrote *

what he must do

his hands, he sought for paper in a big:

/ came home and found had

my

to fetch

folded this, then doubled

it

a

does not

doctor,'

small,

and

with a piece of string, after directing

Hans Morgenstern,

pencil,

brother here,

He

ivith fever.

Pray send

knoio me.

and

round hand

at Kopfontein,

He

next.

tied

it

to

it ^

up

Herr

at the Store.'

This done, he once more changed the wet handkerchiefs, cattle, '

and went out

Jack/ he

said,

He handed turned

his

Jack outspanning the

and talking in a loud voice to his wife. *

the baas

back to Morgenstern

it,

to find

it

very bad.

and take

You must go

this/

the tied-up paper to the Kaffir,

over,

young master

Dyke

s

is

and then handed in the

it

took

back, looking at

most helplessly stupid way.

repeated the order, and pointed toward the

direction from

which they had come, forcing the

into Jack's hand. It

who

was returned, though, the next moment.

letter

;;

A TEST OF JIANIIOOO.

218 '

Jack bring wagon

'

Yes, I

know

;

all

alone/ he said.

Take

Lut you must go back again.

plenty of mealies^ and go to Morgcnstern's and give

him *

that.'

Jack bring wagon

all alone,'

the black said again

and try how Dyke would, he did not seem as

make

could

words bade her

tell

and in other

Sal,

her husband go back at once

he might take a horse

if

;

tluit

he thought he could ride one

he must walk back to Morgcnstern's, and carry

not,

the letter, and

'

he

the Kaffir understand.

In despair he turned to Tanta

if

it'

tell

'

Baas Joe go

*

No, no

Now,

tell

him that the baas was

die,'

he will

;

said the

woman, nodding her

we

live if

bad.

help,' cried

Jack he must go back

Dyke

head.

wildly.

at once, as soon as he

has had some mealies.'

woman.

'

Baas Joe go

*

Hold your tongue!' roared Dyke

die,'

reiterated the

understand what I mean.

you

hear,

stern

;

1

Go

is

to

go back.

'You

—Do

back, and take that to Morgen-

J

s.

The their

Jack

Jack

angrily.

Kaffir

and

his wife stared at

him

lower jaws dropped, and after

efforts.

Dyke turned back

heavily, with

several

more

to the house to continue his

ministrations. *

They

understand

me,

both

of

them/ he cried

A TEST bitterly

him

' ;

MANHOOD.

What

chanfT^ed

shall I

do

What

?

to the back, he

;

command and in a dazed

?*

rushed out

heels, eating

But though Dyke

entreaty, the pair only listened to

kind of way, and

the Kaffir stir

while even

;

it

was quite evident

would not be able

that unless he tried violence he

make

do

and going round

found Jack squatted on his

the hot cake his wife was baking.

him

shall I

and

handkerchiefs,

tlie

again, but the Kaffirs were invisible

tried

219

but he does not want to go, and Tant wants

to stay.

He

OB^

if

he did use

force,

to

he

that Jack would only go a short distance and

felt

there 3'emain.

'And

Dyke

I can't leave here '

;

it

would be

I can't leave

!

like saying

here

1'

groaned

good-bye to poor Joe

for ever.'

Clinging to the faint hope that after he had been

and

well

fed

fulfil

the duty required of him,

his

brother,

rested,

with

the

the

Kaffir

might be made to

Dyke went on

satisfactory

result

him drop

at last into a troubled sleep,

two hours

after,

he started up to

'I'm here, Joe, old chap.

call

tending

of seeing

from which,

out for Dyke.

Can't you see me?' said

the boy piteously. *

No

use

are dying.

Dyke

:

tell

him no

Poor Dyke

felt his

use. !

Madness

So hard

to come.

— so hard

All

.''

breast swell with emotion, and then

A TEST OF MANHOOD.

220

came a fresh horror

:

the evening* was drawing on, and

he would be alone there with the sick man, watching through the darkness, and ignorant of

what

to do.

And now

how

to act

the thought of his position,

alone there in the great desert, seemed more than he

could bear; the loneliness so terrible, that once more, in the midst of the stifling heat, he shuddered

turned

cold.

and

CHAPTER

XIX.

STERLIXG COIN.

YKE EMSON He

alone.

in the darkness there

sat

liacl

no more of Jack

seen

and Tanta Sal since the latter *

had looked

in,

The

evenino-.

stared stupidly, said

Baas Joe go die/ once more, and roused the boy into

such a pitch of fury that he came nigh to throwing something at her.

her husband, and

He

felt

Then she

Dyke was

fast

and

of

hour by hour the

was indeed

feel-

dyinir

as he sat there in the midst of that terrible

solitude, shut

his

room with

ready to give up, and throw himself upon

strencrthened that his brother ;

the

alone.

his face in his great despair, for inn^

left

in,

as

it

were,

by the black darkness,

busy imagination flooded his brain with thoughts

what he would have

to do.

The fancy maddened him,

for it

seemed cruel and

— STERLING COIN.

222

horrible to think of such a thing w^hen his brother lay

there mutterino^ in the delirium

come

persistently,

;

but the thouoht would

and there was the picture vividly

For

standin^: out before him.

his

mind was

an

in such

unnatural state of exaltation that he could not keep

it

hidden from his mental gaze.

There

all

it

was, over and over again

he had selected where

that place

was nearly always shaded

it

in that rift in the kopje

:

where the

soft

herbage grew,

and climbed and laced overhead, while the low murmur

from the rocks

of the water gurgling fell

gently upon his

because

it

was

so calm

there upon the

He had

ear.

in the next rift

selected that spot

and peaceful, and drawn poor Joe

He saw

little sled.

it all

—the shallow,

dark bed he had dug in the soft earth, where his brother was to rest in peace, with

an end.

There were

big,

mossy

which would cover and resting-place,

the suffering at

all

pieces of granite there,

the

protect

poor fellow's

and a smooth, perpendicular

face of rock

above, on which he saw himself, chipping out wdth

hammer and And then

cold chisel the one

Back came the again,

till,

and went

terrible

setting his to

word

scene,

*

Joe.*

and over and over

teeth hard,

Dyke sprang

up,

another bucket of water which he had

made Jack understand he was

to fetch before he left

STERLING COIN.

him some hours

ago,

and drank long and deeply before

rough

the

returning to

223

pallet,

renewing the cold

bandage again, and then sinking upon his knees to

bury his face For a ness as

in his hands.

hour Dyke knelt there in the black dark-

full

asleep,

if

exhausted by the great mental and

bodily fatigue, but hearing every

movement

by the piteous words which came from

Then with a strange

lips.

his breast,

—thrilled

his brother's

feeling of calm rest filling

he raised his head, bent over the sick man,

and took the

burning hand to hold

hot,

his

to

it

cheek. 'I won't be such a Joe, old chap,'

and

I

was frightened

to see

'm going to try and play the

I

'11

stick to you, Joe, to the

Till

—

going to say

till

you get

help you to go and

among

the rocks.

old chap

'

and help

is

not alone.'

were a

sit

so far

I

was

so

like this, but

my

he checked

it,

with

I

can

lips.

old man,

better,

in

you

*

confi-

'

last/ but

and

old corner in the shade

For you re going to be better soon,

and though you

;

if it

man now, and — and

something like a sob rising to his '

break down now,

which his brother heard.

I

He was

to

he said softly, and as

dential whisper tired,

coward as

re very bad,

away, we

're

and

it 's

not alone, Joe

dark,

— we re

STERLING COIN.

224

No

:

not alone

1

For as the boy knelt

there, holding that burning

hand, there came the long, low, yelping wail of the jackals prowling around, as

the air

they scented death in

if

and as the dismal sound swept here and there

;

and going, and

about the lonely house, coming

Dyke

times apparently quite close, the next

moment

of a lion,

power sounding

But

shuddered.

there arose the deep-toned, fierce roar

away

far

at

possibly, yet

so near that

it

in its

tremendous

might have been

close

at hand.

Then the yelping foul creatures

the jackals ceased, as

of

the

had been scared away by the nobler

beast; and after a few uneasy

frightened cattle in the solemnity,

if

which

pen.s, all

movements among the was

the

thrilled

boy

still

to

with a great his

deepest

depths.

And

then

seemed

it

to

Dyke

that

it

was not

so

dark, and he rose and walked softly to the open door to stand lookinG: out, wonderinof and awe-stricken at

the grandeur of

was as

by a

if

the

the heavens were

clearly cut line

on one side sheen of

scene

all

above his head.

marked

—the edge of

For

it

across the zenith

a black cloud

—and

was darkness, on the other a dazzling

stars, glittering

and bright as he thought he

had never seen them before; while the darkness was

STERLING COIN.

225

being swept away, and fresh stars sprang out from the dense curtain minute by minute, and seemed to rain

down myriads

He

of points of light.

stood there

he heard a

till

weary sigh from

lo^v,

the rough bed, and turned back in time to hear a few

muttered words, and then

Dyke

all w^as silent

once

arrain.

trembled, and something seemed to hold him

fast chained, as if in a troubled dream.

Then with a wild cry he stretclied out his

fell

upon

and

trembling hands to touch his brother's

brow, and the reaction came, for thought.

his- knees,

The head was

cooler,

was not

it

as he

and there was a faint

moisture about the temples, wdiile the muttering was

renewed for a few moments, and ended with a Dyke's

hands

brother's breast,

he

let his

softly

w^ere

which rose and

fino-ers

passed

then

to

gently, and

fell

o-Hde alono- the

sigh.

his

when

arm that had been

tossed to one side, there the tell-tale pulse l^eat rapidly still

at the

wrist, but

and hurried

not

in every throb, for Joe

ing as he had not slept for

The hours

— certainly

w^ent

on

many as

till,

not so heavily

Emson was

sleep-

da3's.

Dyke

sat there, the

darkness began to pass, and the watcher w^as conscious of a double dawn.

The

first

in himself, wdiere, as he

crouched by the bed, and thought of words that had

never impressed him

much o

before,

it

was

a.s

if

Hope

220

STERLING COIN.

woi^e rising slowly,

and

light,

and mingled

^Yith

steal in throuofh the

to

it

strengthened in

the faint gi'ay which began

—the few they had

and

till

left

Once more he could hear the ino'

And

narrow window.

lengthened and strengthened,

The fowls

its pale, soft

it

this too

began to glow.

— told that

it

was day.

ostriches chucklino- Inss-

and the lowin^r of the cows and

roarino'

bullocks sounded pleasant and welcome, as a fresh, soft air

began to play through the

door.

The shadows within the room grew

paler,

till, all

at once, they darkened again in the corners, for the full

of the sun suddenly stole in through the

beams

window, and played upon the opposite

glowed

in orange

and

wall,

which

gold.

But Dyke did not

see

the

refulgent

hues

with

which the shabby white-wash and prints were painted, for he

was watching

changed since their

his brother's face, all so terribly

last parting.

The eyes were sunken,

and hollows showed about the temples and cheeks. There was a skin

;

terrible

dry blackness,

while the hands that

lay upon

too, tlie

about the

bed were

thin and full of starting tendons, all tokens of the

fever which had laid the strono-

But he was life;

while

Dyke had

sleeping,

tlie

man

low.

and sleep at such a time meant

head, bared

now by

the rough shearing

given the previous evening, was hot, but not

;

STERLING COIN. burniiio'

with that terrible

very

where

life

which scorches out the

fire

has commenced to glow.

it

Baas Joe dead

'

227

?

said a voice at the door,

'

started to his feet to seize a short, Kaffir

and

Jack did not stop to

fled,

heavy whip

sec it seized.

He

;

Imt

turned

while a low mutterino- ptowI roused the bov

to the fact that the doo-

had been there in the corner

now came forward

the nio'ht, and

all

and 'Dyke

to thrust a cool

nose into his master's hand.

'Why, Duke,

Dyke

chap,

old

The dog gave

softly.

forgotten yon,'

I'd

said

his tail a series of rapid

wags, and then came to the bedside, looked at the sick

man, wdiined

upon

softly,

one of

intently,

Dyke

the

and as

if

and then

sat

and rested his muzzle

hands,

feeble

meaning

to

keep guard there.

followed, and laid his

hand on the dog's head;

but the faithful animal did not

stir.

No, Duke, old man. Baas Joe

'

watching the face

is

not dead yet/

whispered Dyke, as he gazed at his brother's face '

and, please God,

to

what he

Duke once,

we

did not

f >

going to bring him safely back

was.'

move

and brought

whop

're

it

his

head

down upon

;

but he raised his

tail

the floor wdth a heavy

CHAPTER

XX.

A SORE STRAIT.

TOP

and watch/ said

Dyke

and leaving

;

the doo; in change, he went out into the II

glorious light of day, feeling strong now,

but horribly weak.

A

had drunk

contradiction, but a fact, for though he

of the cool fresh water several times, he

had taken

nothing since the previous morning, and

if

to nurse

Emson back

to

life,

he had

he knew that he must

gather force by means of food.

He had felt,

to carry

on the work of the place

as his brother

was

helpless

;

still,

he

and as he walked

round to the back of the premises, he began

to feel

something like wonder at the terrible despair from

which he had suffered since

For every-

his return.

thing looked so bright and cheery and home-like, and the world around for

him

any new struggle

so beautiful, that

lie

in the great fight for

felt

life.

ready

— A SORE STIUIT. 'She's always squatting over a liiinself,

as

Taiita Sal

lie

went round

down

229 fire/ said

to the back, for

Dyke there

to

was

in a Avonderfully frog-like attitude,

turning herself into a very vigorous natural bellows,

make

to

the hre glow under the kettle.

She looked up and smiled, drawing back her thick lips as '

the lad approached.

Baas Joe die V she

said.

'Look here!' roared Dyke that to

me

No

again.

Ko

fiercely: 'don't

—No —NO

you say

!'

Tanta Sal stared at him and shook her head. *

!'

Breakfast

cried

Dyke

laconically.

That she understood, and Dyke hurried away to take a sharp glance round before going back to his brother's side. It

not likely to be tlie

The cows were not milked, and

was needed.

ostriches

;

the horses had not been fed, and

were clamouring for

food.

Just then he saw Jack peeping at him from round the corner of one of the sheds

;

but as soon as he

caught sight of his young master, he drew back. Instead of going

on,

D^'ke

other side of the building,

darted

knowing

round to the

full well that

if

he ran after him, Jack would dash off more quickly

than he could.

So stopping and creeping on over the

sand, he peeped round and

saw the man before him

A SORE STRAIT.

230

just about to perfonn the

same

Dyke was

upon the

seized

able to pounce

by the

Consequently

act.

Kaffir;

whom

he

\vaist-cloth.

'Here, I want you/ he cried sternly, and in a gruff* voice

which he hardly knew for his own.

'Baas want

Yes

'

Tant

go and begin milking the cows.

:

to

?'

you

I

send

'11

directly.'

The man showed

his teeth,

and stood shaking

his

head.

To

his utter astonishment

Dyke

shifted his grasp,

and caught him by the throat with one hand, and shook his

fist

in his face.

'Look here/ he said; 'you can understand English

when you Baas Joe

and you

like,

's

die,'

Baas Joe go

flog

got to understand

it

now.

sick.'

'Baas Joe go '

've

you well

if

said the man.

live,'

cried

Dyke

fiercely,

you don't behave

'

j'ourself.

and he

'11

You go

and milk those two cows, and then feed the ostriches

and

horses, or I'll fetch

Duke

to

watch you, so look

out/ Jack's

jaw dropped

at the mention of the dog,

and

he hurried away; while Dyke, after a glance at the

wagon, which stood just where with

its load,

was about

it

had been dragged

to re-enter the house,

when

A SORK caucjht

lie

si<:^ht

231

STliAl'l'.

him from

of three Kaffirs watching'

beyond one of the ostrich-pens.

'Who

you V he said

are

to himself.

'

What do they

want V

He went

quickly toward them, but they turned and

hard as they could go, assegai in hand, and

tied as

them

the boy stopped and watched

thinking it all '

v^ery seriously, for

some

for

time,

he began to divine what

meant,

They have heard from Tant

I suppose I 'm nobody.

that Joe

They

are hanging

share everything in the place with our two

Dyke's but meant a good

growing

serious, yet

own

use his

words,

seemed

about to ?>it^'

;

The position was

deal.

he did not

it

dying, and

is

feel

dismayed,

to stir

him up

for, to

to

show

figh t.

'And let

'em

I will, too,' he said

through his

teeth.

'I'll

see.'

He went back

into the house to find

Emson

sleeping,

and apparently neither he nor the dog had moved. 'Ah, Duke, that's right/ said Dyke. you.

You can keep

w^atch for

Just then Tanta Sal came that breakfast "was ready,

'I shall

me when in,

I

go awa^^'

smiling, to

and he began

her about wdien his brother was taken

ill.

want

tell

him

to question Biit either

from obtuseness or obstinacy, he could get nothing

;

A SORE STRAIT.

232

from the woman, and he was about

to let her

go while

he ate his breakfast of mealie cake and

liot

but a sudden thought occurred to him.

Had

Kaffirs been about there before

He

milk those

?

asked the w^oman, but in a moment her smile

had gone, and she was staring

at

him

helplessly,

apparently quite unable to comprehend the drift of his questions

;

from her

so he turned

in a pet, to

hurry

throuo'h his breakfast, thinkino- the while of wliat he

had better

He

do.

soon decided upon his

first step,

and that

w^as to

try and get Jack off to Morgenstern's with his letter;

and

after attending to

cine he

Emson and

repeating the medi-

had given the previous day, he went

find that the animals

had been

fed,

out, to

and that Jack was

having his own breakfast with his wife.

There was a smile for him directly from both, and he plunged into his business at once the smiles died out, and stolid

dull,

way.

all

;

but as he went on,

he said was received in a

Neither Jack nor

liis

wife would

understand what he meant —their denseness was impenetrable. '

It

self,

's

of no use to threaten him,' said

as he

went back

'

;

Dyke

to him-

he would only run away and

take Tant with him, and then I should be ten times

worse

off

than

I

am

now.

I

must go myself.

Yes, I

A SORE 8T1UTT.

couM take two and

other,

do

so

over the

c^et

But he shook where Einson

his

o-round

I

faster.

could

head wearily as he glanced at

lay.

I dare not leave

him

one and then the

first

in a third of the time.'

it

'

and ride

horses,

233

him

I should never see

to them.

ao'ain alive.'

It

was quite plain

the Kaffirs liad

:

marked down

the baas for dead, and unless watched, they would not

him by moving a

trouble themselves to try to save

hand.

Dyke

shuddered, for

if

were absent he

lie

possibility of one of the strangers he

them

so as to share or rob.

No

:

had

felt

the

seen, helping

he dared not m.

But could he not have the wa^'on made comfortable, store

with necessaries, get

it

drive the oxen himself It took felt, to

no consideration.

man on

knew

;

and then

It

would be madness, he It

would be

fatal

at

and, besides, he dared not take the sick

such a journey without being sure that he

would be received :

lifted in,

?

attempt such a thing.

once, he

No

Emson

that

was

at the house at the journey's end.

impossible.

Another thought.

It

was evident that Jack was

determined not to go back alone to Morgenstern's, but

would

it

be possible to send a more faithful messenger

A SOKE

234

—the

do^'

He had

?

STRAIT.

read of dogs being sent to places

with despatches attached to

Duke go

not

He knew

?

Why

tlieir collars.

should

made

the way, and once

to

understand

Dyke shook

his head.

The journey was

was too much

It

How

too long.

to expect.

was the dog

to he

protected from wild beasts at night, and allowing that

he could run the gantlet of those dangers, how was the poor brute to be fed '

No, no, no/ cried the boy passionately

much it

?

to think.

myself.

He

It is fate,

better, I

is

and

am

I

must

'

;

see Joe

too

it is

through

sure.'

There was every reason for tliinking

so,

and nurtur-

ing the hope that his brother had taken the turn,

Dyke determined was

M^ell

to set to

—just as

if

work and go on

as

if

all

Enison were about and seeing to

things himself.

'You know

I

wouldn't neglect you, old chap,' he said

he bent over the couch and gazed in

affectionateh'', as

the sunken features; 'I shall

keep on coming

be close

and

will

in.'

Then a thought struck him, and he fid

by,

called -the watch-

dog away and fed him, before sending him back

the bedside, and

more

i:^oini^

to

out to examine the ostriches

closely.

Dyke's heart sank as he visited pen after pen.

a

A SORE

235

STIIAIT.

Either from neglect or disease, several

and were lying about the

died,

the birds had

place, partly eaten

while of the young ones hatched from

jackals;

nest of eggs brought

one was

oi'

home with such high

by the

hopes, not

left.

'Poor Joe!' sisfhed Dvke, as he looked round despoadently, and thought of his brother

s

words, which,

broken and incoherent as they were, told of the

dis-

appointment and bitterness which had followed the

weary

long,

trial of his

And noWj with

experiment.

the poor fellow broken

miserable

completely helpless, the

wretched look of those neglect,

made Dyke

But he fierce

still

livincr,

dead

down and the

birds,

and the

o-eneral

feel

ready to turn away in despair.

set his teeth

hard and went about with a

energy rearranging the birds in their pens, and

generally working as

if

this

were

all

a mere accident

that only wanted putting straight, for everything to go

on prosperously in the future. It

a

was hard work,

hopeless

task,

and

t]iorou2:h nav^ beo-innini*tlie

Dyke

feeling, as

that

did, that it

complete

a

was

change

—

— must be made for there to be But he kept

slightest chance for success.

task becoming quite exciting

turned restive or showed

Md:ien

fight,

on, the

the great birds

and a disposition

go everywhere but where they w'ere wanted.

to

A SORE

236

STllAIT.

Then he fetched Jack, who as

if

be tried to send him

worked

away

better

that he

divided

work was

time

birds,

drag

to

and to

cleaning.

between seeing that the

done, and going to and fro to his brother's

now

sleeping

more

little

his

But he

was only

two dead

the remains of one or

Dyke

about to

to the old trader's.

off'

when he found

fetch water and do a

couch,

new scheme was

Lelieved some

lie

cuine unwillingly, acting

feeling hopeful as he fancied that he

more

easily.

At the second

hopes grew more strong

was

visit, too, his

but at the third they went

;

dow^n to zero, for to his horror the heat flush and violent chill returned with terrible delirium, and the

boy began

to

blame himself for not doing something

more about getting a doctor^

for

Emson seemed

to be

worse than he was at his return.

By

degrees, though,

might not be a sign

it

dawned upon him

of going back, only a peculiarity of

malarial fever, in some forms of which he the sufferer had regular daily certain time

that this

fits,

knew

which lasted

that

for a

and then passed away, leaving the patient

exhausted, but better.

This might be one of these attacks, he sat

watching and trying to give

the delirium increased, and the

bad as they could

be, for a

man

relief

;

felt,

and he

but in vain, for

symptoms looked to live.

as

A SORE STRAIT.

And now position

237

once more the utter helplessness o£ his

came upon Dyke, and he

sat there listening to

his brother's wild words, trying to

and grasp

seemed to

He

meaning, but in vain.

liis

Ijurning head

them together

fit

bathed the

and applied the wet bandages, but they

afford

growing more

no

relief

whatever

despondent than

he could not bear

it,

and

;

he

ever,

at

few

Then

n^iinutcs

and just at dusk he went outside

from the

away

terrible scene.

smote him for what he told

conscience

his

that

felt

the door to try to think, though really to get for a

last

himself was an act of cowardice, and he hurried back to the

that, short

bedside, to find

absence, '

it

had been

as

had been

his

o-reat chano'e to o for a o o enough o

lono^

take place.

In

fact,

fellow's

the

paroxysm had passed, and the poor

brow was covered with a

bi^eathing easier,

fine perspiration, his

and he was evidently sinking into a

restful sleep.

Dyke till

stood watching and holding his brother's

hand

he could thoroughly believe that this was the case,

and then tottered out once more into the comparatively cool evening air, to find to brinc^ somethincf for

Jack or

his wife,

him and the

he had seen nothing of either of hours.

and

do^:

them

tell

them

to eat, for

for

many

A SORE STRAIT.

2:38

He walked round

to the back, but there

was no

fire

smouldering, and no one in the narrow, yard-like place so he

went on

^^

to the shed in

which the servants

;

slept,

r

and tapped at the rough door.

But

was no answer, and upon looking

tliere

in,

expecting to see Jack lying there asleep, neither he

nor his wife was

How it

was

Avas that

piled

up

visible.

in a stack

ao'ainst the side of

What

then

Gone

?

?

No:

for there

Yes, that would be

?

and Tanta Sal had gone together

to

Jack

it.

the kopje for

to fetch three or four buckets fro?n the

cool fresh spring, of

whose use he had been so lavish

They had gone evidently

during the past day. it

was plenty

one of the sheds.

—water

company s sake

from where

to fetch in fuel

was quite dark

;

and, feeling

before

hungry and exhausted

now, he walked round to where the wagon recalling that locker,

there

was some dry cake

and meaning*

to

cat

of

tliis

to

stood,

left in

relieve

the the

painfully faint sensation.

He

climbed up into the wagon, and lifted the

the chest, but there was no mealie cake there

Tant must have taken house where

it

Emson was

out.

So

sleeping

i^oino;

Jack or

;

back

quietly,

lid of

to the

the boy

dipped a pannikin into the bucket standing there, and

drank

thirstily before

going outside again to M^atch

'

A SOKE STIUIT.

239

for the Kaffir servants' return, feeling impatient

now,

and annoyed that they should have neglected him for so long.

But there was no sign

was comino* on

Tlie night

and a faint star or two became

while the granite kopje rose up, softly rounded

visible,

evening

in the

fast,

of tlieir approach.

beliind

it,

light,

just as

if

with a faint gloAv appearing from the

moon were beginning

to rise

there.

He that

waited and waited

tlie

man

till

was perfectly plain

it

could not be coming from fetching water,

and, startled at this, he shouted,

and then hurriedly

looked about in the various buildings, but only to find

them empty. Startled now,

more than he cared

Dyke ran back aofain.

to the Kaffir's

There were no

to

lodge,

assei:cais

own

to himself,

and looked in

leanint:^

against the

and half stunned

wall, nothing visible there whatever,

by the thought which had come upon him with boy went slowly back

violence, the

sat

down by where Duke was

terrible

to the house,

and

watcliing the sleeping

man. *

'

Alone

thej^

/

alone

' !

have gone and

you speak

to

for I cannot

me

?

muttered Dyke with left us.

We

Joe, Joe, old

are forsaken.

even think now.

What

a

groan

man,

Speak

shall I

do

;

can't

to me, ?

'

CHAPTER XXI DYKE

SETS HIS TEETH.

answer

Emson cal

came

the

couch where

lay exhausted by his last periodi-

paroxysm

softly,

from

and

of

in

fever. his

Tlie

way

dog wliined

unintentionally

comforted his master by comforting himself.

human company, he

to say, eager for

That

is

crept closer, so

that he could nestle his head against him, and be in touch.

That touch was pleasant, and

arm round

the dog's neck and

it

made Dyke

draw Inm

pass his

Duke

nearer,

responding with a whine of satisfaction, followed by a

sound strongly resembling a grunt, as he settled himthe answer came to the lad's question,

self dow^n, just as '

What It

and '

shall I do

!

was Nature who answered it

was

There

as

is

if

she said

in heriifrand, wise

way,

:

only one thing you can do,

my poor,

lieart-

DYKE SETS HIS TEETH. weary one

sore,

Rest; and gain strength for

sleep.

:

241

the fight to come/

And

and

in the silence

sweet insensibility to

all

he sank lower and lower skins,

darkness a calm,

o-atherino-

his troubles stole over till

his

Dyke

;

head rested against the

and the coarse, sack-like pillow, formed of rough,

was not

unsaleable ostrich-feathers; and

it

hours after that he moved, or

felt that there

until twelve

was a

world in which he occupied a place, with stern work cut out for It

him

to achieve.

was the touch

of something cold

upon

his

cheek

that roused the sleeper, and that something cold was the

doom's nose.

Dyke

did

not start

;

he merely opened his eyes

and looked up at those gazing at him, and,

quietly,

thoroughly comforted and rested, he smiled in the dog's face. '

Get

out,

you old

no business to do

Duke to

uttered

he

rascal,'

said.

'

You know you

've

that.'

a satisfied

caper about the

room

the solemn silence of

stopped directly, and

bark, to

and

show

his

then

delight

the place being broken

made

beo'an

;

at

but

for the door in alarm, so

sudden was the spring his master made to his feet

—so wild and angry the cry the boy uttered as he bent over the bed. p

'

DYKE SETS

242

For and

as he cried, 'I've

down

gazed

lie

consciousness

full

ITIS

TEETH.

had vcturned

been asleep!

what he

for

felt to

fnll of self-reproach

had seen him

as he

hands were exactly as they had

ness the previous night

hand upon the poor and

been asleep!'

I 've

have been Ids cruel neQ;hct.

But Emson was just his

flash,

at his brother, horrified at the thought

what might have happened, and

of

a

like

—and

last

— even

lain in the dark-

Dyke

wdien

placed his

fellow's head, it felt fairly cool

n;ioisfc.

Dyke's

rose a

spirits

little

at

but his

this,

self-

reproach was as great as ever.

*0h!' he muttered angrily, 'and for him,

and promise him that

go right died,

I will not leave

I never

have moved.

The dog sprang and placed

his

to

— Here, Duke

him with a bound,

paws upon

'

if

!

raised himself,

his master's breast, threw^

back his head, opened his wide tongue, and panted as

him, and

Why, he might have

off to sleep like that.

and

pretend to care

I

jaw^s,

lolled

out his

after a long run.

Here, look at me, old chap, and see what a

laz}',

thous^htlcss brute I am.'

But Duke only shook and uttered a '

There

that?'

:

low^ wdiine,

down

1

Oh,

liis

head from

foUow^ed

how

b}^

side to side,

a bark.

could

I

sleep

like

!

DYKE SETS But by degrees

it

HIS TEETIL

243

was forced upon him that Emson

had evidently passed a perfectly calm night, and looked

and he knew that

certainly better,

was utterly im-

it

possible to live without rest.

He awoke,

too,

now

was

to the fact that he

way

ously hungry, while the

in

i\aven-

which the dog smelt

about the place, snuffing at the

tin

which

in

his

master's last mess of bread and milk had been served,

and then ran whining bottom of that

fact

bucket,

a

he was

at the water at the

lap

to

spoke plainly enough of the

from

suffering

same

the

com-

plaint.

At the same grasp

of

his

time,

position,

himself at the calm that long,

after

Dyke

look half so bad

w^as trying to get a firm

and

way

felt

which he treated,

in

calm, restful ;

sleep,

things

For

it.

did not

the depression of spirit had passed

away, his thoughts were disposed

and his tendency

annoyed with

half

of feeling

to

run cheerfully,

was toward making the

best of thino's. '

his

Well/ he found himself saying, as he ran over last

What its

night's

discovery,

could one expect

being lonely,

why

hundred times worse

old

along one of those days.

they

only

're

Let them

?

off;

'

savages

And

go.

as

to

Robinson Crusoe was a

somebody I

don't

is

sure to

care

:

come

old Joe

's

— DYKE SETS HIS TEETU.

244

I'm sure he's

better

better

—and

Dyke

Doctor

if

don't pull

him through, he's a Dutchman, and

christened

Van/

He had

one good long look in his patient's

felt his pulse,

as

if

and then

addressing some one

ingly of his condition '

Why, he

Come

his heart beatings

is

Dyke

of meal, poured

carried

it

face,

at last,

depreciat-

:

— Here, Duke

:

hungry?

man/

The dog shot out bark, and

who had spoken

better, I 'ni sure.

along, old

and

;

well

of the door, giving one deep-toned

hurried to the wagon, opened a sack

some

into the bottom of

back to the house, with the

Then

about him, his mouth waterino^. water to the meal, he beat

it

a bucket,

dofj

sniffincf

adding;

some

into a stiff paste, and

placed about half on a plate, giving the rest to the dog, which attacked

tlie

bucket with

ravenously, and

it

not hesitatino- about eatino; a few bits

of

the cold,

sticky stuff himself.

He

gave a glance at Einson, and then went

back, scraped a till it

began

water to

little

to glow,

boil,

fuel together,

hung the

and then,

lit

it,

followed

ran to feed the horses, just as a low,

warned him that the cows wanted

the

and blew

kettle over

closely

to

it

it

for the

by Duke,

deep lowing

attention.

Fortunately only one was giving

much

milk, for

;

DYKE HETS

small:

it

necessity, though, to relieve the poor

which followed him as he hurried back for a

beasts, pail,

245

way had been very

Dyke's practice in that

was a work of

HIS TEETH.

one that soon after stood half full of warm,

milk, while the soft-eyed, patient beasts

new

went

after-

Dyke

aloud,

wards calmly away to graze. '

Here,

who 's going

to

starve

? '

cried

with a laugh that was, however, not very mirthful

and then going back cake, placed

it

to the fire

he kneaded up his

upon a hot slab of

stone, covered

with an earthen pot, swept the embers and the whole, and left

it to

tea,

stern's,

when, for the

saclv of

meal was missing.

At

first

jumped

get the kettle to boil

to

a task necessitating another visit

the waccon stores he

to

first

had

broui^fht

from Moriren-

time, he noticed that a little

he was doubtful, then he

off to join

felt

sure,

and

Jack and Tanta Sal

at once to the reason.

must have gone

over

fire

bake.

His next proceeding was

and make some

it

the blacks he had seen

watching, and not gone empty handed.

Dyke's brow wrinkled up for a few moments. his face cleared, for

suggested

itself,

in periodical '

Then

an antidote for the disease had

one which he

fits.

Here, Duke,' he cried.

'

Up

!'

felt

would come on

'

DYKE SETS HIS TEETH.

246

The dog sprang

in at the

back

wagon, and

of the

looked inquiringly at him. Lie

'

down

Duke

watch

:

when

himself upon the wagon

settled

his outstretched

!

head upon his paws, and stayed there

his master left to

go back

make

in the boiling kettle,

half a basinful

tea,

and adding a

to the house, fetch

and after sweetening

little

milk, he took

to his patient's side, raised his head, held lips,

and

all

laid

floor,

it

it

to his

unconscious though he was, found him

ready to drink with avidity, and then sink back with a weary sigh. 'There, old

cried

chap,'

that he had not tried, lot of tea like that

to get better fast,

as he never

had

own

fact

you couldn't have tipped

yesterday.

off

a

It's all right: going

and give Master Jack such a licking

before.'

Trying to believe his

'

Dyke, ignoring the

this himself,

he

now thought

of

breakfast, fetched in the hot cake and a tin

pannikin of milk, and sat down to this and some tea.

The

first

mouthfuJs

felt as if

they would choke him,

but the sensation of distaste passed

off,

soon eating ravenously, ending by taking of milk for his share,

and a piece

and he was

Duke

a tin

of the hot bread.

That was a wearv morning, what with

his patient

DYKE SETS

HIS TEETH.

and the animals about the teeth hard, and feeling

place.

that he

But he had

sensible

and did what he could

responsibility, so as to leave

set his

must depend

upon himself and succeed, he took a his proceedings,

247

fully

view

of

to lighten his

him plenty

of time for

nursing and attending to his invalid.

The

first

thingf

horses and cattle

;

was

and, feeling that he could not do

everything by himself, he at once for themselves,

the

little

about the

do somethincc

to

let all loose to shift

hoping that they would keep about

desert farm,

and net stray away into danger.

Horses then and cattle were loosened, to go where they pleased, and the openings connecting the ostrichpens were thrown open to give the great birds as

much

Then

limit for feeding themselves as he could.

he fetched water in abundance for the house, and loaded and laid ready the three guns and the

with plenty of cartridges by their

sides,

rifles,

but more

from a hope that the sight of his armament would have the

effect of

than from

frightening Kaffirs

any thought

weapons, and destroying

Then he was the wagon.

of

using

away when them

as

seen,

lethal

life.

face to face with the difficulty about

Tliese stores

they were, and he

felt

ought not to be

that he was too

left

much

where woi'n

out to attempt to carry them into the rough-boarded

DYKE SKTS

248

room that served

as

HIS TKKTH.

He was

store.

too

much

ex-

hausted, and the rest of that day he felt belonged to his patient.

But a thought struck him, and fetching up a yoke oxen "which were browsing contentedly a

the

mile away,

Dyke

boom, and, after some

wagon drawn

close

them

hitched

up

on

the

to

managed

difficulty,

to the fence,

of

half-

disscl-

to get the

and within a few

yards of the door. '

Duke

who

will

be there, and I should hear any one

came,' he said to

hiiii.self,

and once more

set the

oxen free to go lowing back to their poor pasture with

work

the rest of the team, which he had had hard to

keep from following him at the

And now, tired

out with his exertions at a time

the hot sun was blazino- on a bit cast

dispirited, he

down

first.

liich,

entered

the

and

fit,

beofinnino- to feel

house again, to be

as low as ever, for once

suftering terribly from the

more Emson was

which seemed

on as nearly as could be at the same time

knew

to con^ie

daily.

that he ought to have been prepared for

he was not, for

it

when

Dyke it,

but

again took him by surpiise, and

the medicine which he administered, and his brother

took automatically, seemed to have no

effect

what-

ever.

He

bathed and applied evaporating bandages to the

^

DYKE SETS

IJIS

249

TEETH.

poor fellow's temples, but the fever had the mastery,

and kept

it

for hours, while

—

but ^^., hold *..

nothino' _j

Dyke

burnino.^..-,.-—

the ~.-w

could at last do

hand

in

with

his,

despair coming over him, just as the gloom succeeded the settino' of the sun.

Then, just as the boy was thinking that no

fit

had

this,

and that Emson was growing

weaker, the heat

and alternate shivering sud-

been so long as far

denly ceased, and with a deep sigh he dropped

oft'

to

sleep.

Dyke

sat

watching for a time, and then, finding that

Emsoii was getting cooler and cooler, and the sleep apparently more natural and right, he began to think of his plans for the evening.

keep awake

this time,

must have company. to

come by

night, he

The felt,

the doo[ to watch, but of the wagon, tied

M'hile.

the

faithful

to

determined to

do this he

Kaffirs

felt

that

lie

were hardly likely

and so he would not leave

him down out

sxoinrr out, called

down

front, fed the dosr well,

until

and

He was

the canvas curtains back and

and stood at the door waiting

beast

had

watchino- the

finished,

Then once more he noticed the

at the

back of the kopje, looking as

rising,

though that could not

visible

till longj

if

peculiar light

the

be, for there

moon were

was no moon

after midnio-ht.

But Dyke was too weary

to study a question of

DYKE SETS

250 light or shadow,

dog

called the

and as soon

in,

and

finished he

what he could

comfortable; and sat

down

to

to pass

watchinaf.

niiicht

But nature ing,

Duke had

as

closed the door, did

make poor Emson the

HIS TEETH.

in a

said again that he should pass

few minutes,

it

sleep-

after fighting hard against

the sensation of intense drowsiness, he dropped off fast as on the previous night, but started into wakefulness in the intense darkness,

low oTowlino^ of the

and

doo-

sat

up

and a

listening to the

terrible

which came from the pens, where the be,

if

they had returned after

their

bellowiniiC

cattle should

many

hours'

liberty.

Returned they had great, placid beasts

and

fear,

the

wagon

for

certain,

was evidently

and one

the

of

agony

in a state of

while a rushing sound of hoofs close to where

had taken

stood, suggested that the horses

and bullocks

flight.

The reason was not very

far off

from

tlie

seeker,

for all at once, just as the piteous bellowings were at their heio-ht, there

came the

terrific roarin^f of

a

lion,

evidently close at hand, and this was answered by a

deep growling by the cattle lion

-

pens,

telling that one

had struck down a bullock, and was being

inter-

rupted in his banquet by another approaching near.

Dyke

rose,

and went to the corner of

tlie

room

DYKE SETS where the loaded

IJIS

rifles stood,

TEETH.

251

then walked softly toward

the door to stand peering out, but not a sign of any living creature M^as visible.

In

fact,

a lion could not

have been seen a couple of yards away, but,

all

the

same, the loud muttered growlings told plainly enough that both the fierce beasts were close at hand.

CHAPTER

XXII.

A BIT OF NATURE.

HERE

seems plenty of reason in suppostliat

the

tremendously

loud,

throated roar of the lion at night

tull-

in-

is

L>^jir?>^^-^i*^

tended to scare the great brute's prey into

whereabouts

Letraying

its

paralyse

with fright and render

it

Much has been

times,

at

it

others

at

to

easy of capture.

written about the fascinating power of

the snake, but this fascination, from quiet observation,

appears to be nothing more nor

less

than the paralysis

caused by fear, and suffered by plenty of objects in the

One

animal world.

mio-ht

bcjjcin

and the many instances where,

"with

man

himself,

in the face of a terrible

danger, he becomes perfectly M^cak and helpless. is

on a railway track, and a

spring,

fast train is coming.

and he would be safe but how often

that he never

;

makes that

Take another

it

He One

happens

spring.

instance.

There

is

a

fire

at

some

!

A BIT OF KATURE. works.

It

spreading

is

the horses in the stables

fast,

253

and the cry

Men rush and

!

'

arises,

fling

Save

'

open the

the halters are cast loose, but too often

doors;

poor brutes will not

even for blows

stir

:

the

fascinated

by

the danger, they stay in the stable and are burned.

Go

woods on souie pleasant summer day,

into the

one of the pleasant sandy

lemony odour air,

districts,

where the sweet,

of the pine-trees floats

through the sunny

and the woodland slope out

scratched

freshly

abound.

Sit

is

dotted with holes, and

patches

down and

you

and in a short

will see rabbits seated in

You have not

front of these holes.

seen them come

they seem to arrive there instantaneously

one or two, then several

movement nor

beoin nibbling- the

and

;

there

if

more and more

noise,

o-rass at

sand

yellowish

of

don't move,

time, quite unexpectedly,

out, for

will

—

first

neitlier

is

appear, to

the edo-e of the wood, or

playing about, racing after each other, almost as of pranks as kittens. itself

upon

its

Now

and then one

Then^

all

at

in one direction,

rap, ra/p

once,

alarm stamp given by the foot

and dozens of white cottony at the

rabbit

mouths is

will

full

raise

hind-legs like a dog begging, ears erect

and quivering, now turned another.

in

of holes,

to be seen.

— there

tails are

and

is

now

— that

in

shai'p

a wild race,

seen disappearing

in another instant not a

254

A BIT OF NATURE.

What was

it

You

?

but

listen,

seems

all

You

still.

can hear the twittering of birds, perhaps the harsh of a jay, or the

you

;

and

laughing chatter of a magpie, but

sounds would not have startled the

those familiar rabbits

call

you are new

if

to such

woodland matters,

some one

of the nearest fur-

coated fellows must have cau^'ht

si^'ht of yovi, called

will conclude that

But

out danger, and sent the colony flying.

if

you are

accustomed to the woods and the animal nature there,

you

will listen,

and

in a short time hear that

which

startled the little animals, the cry reaching their sensitive ears long before it penetrated

There as

of

it

again

is

—a

some animal in

intervals

till it

your duller organs.

fine-drawn, trouble.

shrill,

This

piercing cry

is

repeated at

comes nearer and nearer, and develops

into a querulous, frightened scream uttered little

by some

creature in fear or pain.

Both, say

;

for in another

moment

a fine gray rabbit

comes into sight running slowly, and looking in nowise distressed

by over-exertion

where you and of

fei'ns,

it

passes on in front of

going in and out among the tree trunks

paying no heed to the

many

burrows, each

which would make a harbour of refuge and perhaps

save

its life,

though that

you think, save

too,

as

sit,

as

it

would

if it

itself

is

very doubtful.

by rushing

It might,

off at full speed,

caught sight of you, or a dog chased

A BIT OF NATURE.

But

it.

times

no,

goes on running slowly, uttering at

it

terrified scream,

its

again long

255

which you hear again and

the rahbit has disappeared

after

which seems to say

' :

It

all

's

over

;

I

—a

cr}^

am marked

down, and though I keep on running, I can never get away.

And

so,

is

it

his scent,

soon.'

bunny

for poor

down by

being liunted

way

though

enemy who

siglit in turn,

the

on

by

tlie

There seems to be

this is out of sight.

of

is

is

running in

exactly along the track taken

no hurry on the part

He

doomed.

is

a remorseless

and now comes into

a leisurely rabbit,

me

It will catch

little,

looking,

browny-gray animal, with

rounded

cars,

its

slight,

snaky-

piercing eyes,

creamy-white breast, and black-tipped

tail.

The weasel

—for

that

it

is

—does not seem above an

eighth of the size of the rabbit, a kick from whose

powerful hind-leg could send far

enough.

creature

But

the

knows that

little,

this

comes loping along upon

now and then

it

flying

keen,

disabled for

perky-looking

will not be its its

fate,

and

leisurely hunt, pausing

to look sharply

around for danger, and

among

the undergrowth, leap-

then gliding in and out

ing over prostrate pieces of branch, and passing on in fz'ont just as the rabbit did a

few minutes

and then disappearing among the ferns;

its

before,

keen-

A BIT OF NATURE.

256

scented nostrils telling

plainly enough the direction

it

which the rabbit has gone, though the screams

in

might have deceived the

Not long

ear.

was witness of an instance

since I

homely

called fascination in the

cases of cat

Not the ordinary domestic mouse,

of so-

and mouse.

for the little animal

one of the large, full-eyed, long-tailed garden

Avas

mice,

and

my

attention

was

directed to

making what sporting people

the cat

somethino\

it

call

by seeing

'a point' at

Pass was standincc motionless, watchinix

intently, ready to spring at

any moment, and upon

looking to see what took her attention, there at the foot of an old tree-stump stood the very large mouse,

not three feet from fascinated

by

enemy, and so paralysed or

its

that

fear,

approaching so closely that It

was perfectly unable

no

paid

it

I could

to stir

till

heed

to

have picked I

gave puss

it

a'

my up.

cuff

and sent her flying without her natural prey, when the

mouse darted out

The

roarino' of

fascination even to

fire,

while

of sio-ht.

the

lions

seemed to exercise

this

upon D^dce, who made no movement he

evidently huddling

could

hear

together in

the

other bullocks,

mortal fear

—a

which attacked him now, as the bellowino-s

fear

of the

unfortunate bullock became more aironised, then ixrew fainter,

and died

oft*

in a piteous sigh.

A lUT OF NATURE.

Dyke seem

Then, and then only, did into the full possession

257 to start

of his faculties

;

and

back

raising'

the gun, he stood listening, so as to judge as nearly as possible whereabouts to

A sharp crack,

fire.

as of a

bone breaking, told him prett}^

nearly where the spot must be, not fifty yards from

—for he could not see the sight at the end of the barrel — he was about where he stood; and,

draw

to

trigger,

takino* a o'uess

when, at almost one and the same

moment, Duke uttered a frightened rush,

and the boy

aim

fired

now

snarl

:

there

at random, fully

was a

aware of

the fact that a lion must have crept up within a few yards, and been about to spring either at

dog, its

when

the

fierce,

snarling growls

him

made

or the it

alter

intention.

They say and

it

retreat

that discretion

would be hard

down

to

is

to

the better part of valour,

set

cowardice,

Dykes movomcnt especially when it

in is

considered that he was almost blind in the darkness,

while his enemy was provided by nature with optics

which were at their best in the gloom of night.

Dyke moved back sheltered, as

into

and with the dog

the

house, where, partly

close to his feet, watchful

he was himself, and ready to give w^arning of

danger, he waited, listenino- for the next sound.

This was

lone: in

cominnf, for the lions

Q

seemed to

258

A BIT OF NATURE.

have been scared away by the report of the piece too

much

was

hit

to believe that the beast

—but

at last crick, crack,

—

it

was

which had charged

and a tearing noise

came from out of the darkness toward the

stables,

and

taking another guess aim, the boy fired and listened intently as he reloaded his piece.

Once more there was heard, and liis

Dyke

felt

till

a distant roar was

hopeful that he had scared

enemy; but hardly had he thought

erackin<:j'

and

had only been

away

that, wlien the

noise arose once more,

tearinnj

plainly enough that it

silence

tellinsf

the beast had been scared away,

if

for a sliort distance,

and

it

had now

returned to feed.

Dyke's piece rang out again, as he

fired

direction of the sounds, all feeling of dread

carried

away by

in the

now being

the excitement, and a sense of rage

that, in all probability,

one of the best draught oxen

had been pulled down and was being eaten only a few yards from where he stood.

Crack went a bone once more, as the noise

-of the

to

pay

and backed right

into

piece died out, showing that the lion

had ceased

attention to the report.

And now Dyke

fired again,

the house, startled by the bullet

had evidently

snarling roar, which

told

result, for

— the lion

this

time his

uttering a savage,

was followed by a

crash, as

if

;

A

r.TT

OF NATURE.

259

caused by the monster leaping against

one of the

fences in an effort to escape.

Then once more rending had

all

The

still.

and 'though

ceased,

patientl}^ for quite

was

the

tearinof

boy

and

listened

an hour, no animal returned to the

savage banquet.

At

last,

Dyke

tired out,

down ami wait

to sit

troubling

closed and secured the door,

for day,

him through the

no disposition to sleep

rest of the night.

twice he struck a match to hold face,

it

Once

or

near his brother's

but only to find him lying sleeping peacefully,

the reports of the gun having had no effect whatever

while as the light flashed up, of

the

Dyke caught

a glimpse

dog crouching at the door, with head

watching and listening for the approach of a

But no enemy came, and

Dyke opened

foe.

at the first flush of

dawn

the door cautiously, to look out and see

one of the cows, yards from

1om%

its

all

torn and bloody, lying half-a-dozen

shed

;

and just within the

first fence,

where a gap had been broken through, crouched a

grown spring.

lioness,

apparently gathering

itself

up

full-

for a

CHAPTER XXII 1 DAYLIGHT.

YKE'S

movement was back

first

up the bar

house, and to put closed his

next,

and stand there with

tlie

across the

beating violently;

heart

his

doox',

into

to

watch

the

his

double

o'un, C_J

window,

little

'

readv to send •*

f

a couple of shots at the brute's muzzle, to get in, as he felt sure that

A minute — two ing,

minutes

though he did not

knew from

felt

would appear enough

was

— passed, but he heard noth-

feel surprised at this, for

up

way

after their prey.

in

he

which

At any

which would just be big

at the opening,

wounded

sealed.

tried

that the great, cat-like head and paws

for creeping

killed or

it

would.

experience the soft velvety

the animals would creep

moment he

it

when

through

;

and unless

desperately, he

knew

his

two

shots

that his fate

DAYLIGHT. *

must be

I

firm,

he said to himself

261

and not nervous, or

how was he

hut

;

I shall miss/

to be firm

when

gazing wildly at that narrow opening, momentarily expecting

to

feel

the

savage brute's jaws, and terrible dano-er

be

breath from the

hot

of

putt'

face

to

face with

the

?

He knew he must be firm, and not lose his nerve but how could he master his senses at a time when he was ;

watching that gi'ay opening, with his eyes beginning to swim, and the cold perspiration gathering upon his fore-

head

?

All at once there

was a sound behind him, and he

swung round, fully believing

that the stealthy creature

had bounded on

to the roof,

and was about

obtain entrance

down through

built chimney, poses, *

which had been made for cooking pur-

!

how you

saw that the

making about

big, low, granite-

but never used.

You wretch

as he

the

to try to

a

its

don-

me/ muttered Dyke,

startled

had caused his

bound toward the

door,

alarm bv

with the thick hair

neck standing up in a bristling way, as

snuffled about the

bottom of the

a low whine, and looked up at

entr}^,

its

it

and then uttered

master,

who

felt

that

the lioness must be there.

Dyke want

turned to the

window

of firmness, feeling

now

again,

that

annoyed with if

the

his

enemy had

DAYLIGHT.

202 tried to take

him

heard the bound up on to the iron

Resuming

strain,

roof.

his watchful position

now

as

he beo-an

to

waited again, and the

must have

in the rear like that, he

by the

^Yindovv,

he

he stood, with every nerve on feel that

the

inaction

suspense were more painful than tr\'ing to attack

and ;

so

taking a long, deep breath, he advanced closer to the

window, with finger on

ready to

trigger,

fire

on the

instant.

Closer and closer, and sill,

now

resting the barrels on the

gradually protruding the gun muzzle a

little, till

he could look out between the open wooden

bars,

unglazed for the sake of coolness, a small shutter standino' against the side below. It

was a cautious

his position

kopje, and

there

piece of reconnoitring, but from

he could see very

little.

the sky beginning to

was plenty

of

room

There was the

flame golden; but

for the lioness to be crouching

beneath the window unseen, or on either side close up

he could not get a view without

to the wall, -where

thrusting out head and shoulders, and so placing himself in position for

like

the

enemy

to

make one

lightning-

dab at him with the claw-armed paw, and drag

him out

as a cat

would a mouse.

Dyke drew back

a

little,

and waited,

listening to

the neighing of one of the horses, which started the

DAYLIGHT.

263

remaining cows into a long, protesting bellow, as the poor beasts asked to bo relieved of

their

load

of

milk.

Then the

boy's heart started beating again violently,

for he felt that the

proaching,

if

and as he

did,

moment

not at hand.

for action

He

was

fast ap-

started round listening,

he saw that the place was fairly

lit

up

now, and Emson's face stood out clearly as he lay peacefully asleep.

Duke

bottom of the door,

snuffled at the crack at the

and uttered an uneasy growl; while, plainly enough to be heard now, there was a stealthy step, passing along beside the buildino^, and makino- for the back.

'Safe there!' thought his

Dyke; and the dog

uttered

uneasy growl, while his master listened intently

for the creature's return.

And now

that the peril seemed to be so close. Dyke's

nerve grew firmer, and ready to lioness

came round the other way,

w^oukl, he encouraijed himself

fire

as soon as the

as he felt sure she

with the thouo-ht that

if

he were only steady, he could not miss.

He was

not long kept waiting.

stealthy, soft step again,

and the sound

There was the of the animal's

side brushing lightly against the corrugated iron wall.

But, to the overturning of the boy's expectations, the

sounds M'ere

not

continued

round

from the back

:

'

!

'

264

DAYLIGHT.

toward the window, but

in tlie

same direction

as that

which they had previously been heard.

in 1

Duke

uttered a low, muttering growl, and glanced

round at his master, thrusting-

his

nose ao-ain to the

bottom of the door, where the stealthy pace ceased,

and there was the sound

as of the beast passing its

muzzle over the door.

The dog uttered a loud bark, and Dyke presented the muzzle of the gun, half prepared to boards, but raised

the

up

from a

mingling

it,

of

lire

through

with his face wrinkling annoyance,

surprise,

and

amusement, for in answer to the dog's sharp bark,

came '

*

'

Ah-ah-ah-ah

Tant

Mind

'

is

:

milk/

Dyke, laying his hand on the

ci*ied

there

!

Wantcr bucket

!

a

bar.

he said, as he opened the door

lion,'

cautiously. '

Eh

Eat a

?

Eat cow.*

lot.

The woman, who seemed

to have suddenly

remem-

bered a great deal of English, smiled blandly, and took hold of the dog's muzzle, as hind-legs and placed his *

Did you

see the lion

'

Yes

hurt,' said

eat. '

;

no

Baas Joe

No

! '

cried

die

Duke

raised himself on his

paws on her

chest.

?

Tanta pleasantly.

'

Too much

?

Dyke, angrily, annoyed with the woman,

'

DAYLIGHT.

and against himself for

what do you want *

Milk cow

265

unnecessary

his

fear.

'

But

?

— say moo-ooo

She produced a

1*

imitation of

capital

lowing, and laughed merrily as

it

the animal's

was answered from

the shed. *

'Oh I

Lion cat much/

Only one cow.

know

yes, I

all

about that/ cried Dyke; 'but

thought you had gone.' *

No

Jack take away.

know

'Yes, I

you go away

Jack

top.

that; but do you

tiel'

mean Jack made

'

?

The woman nodded. '

No

cake, '

Come back

top.

make

Make Come

Make

fire,

make

milk.'

yourself useful, eh

the woman's presence '

along, baas.

? '

cried

was a wonderful

Dyke, to

whom

relief.

top baas.'

Tanta Sal picked up one of the buckets standing just inside the door, '

Look here

! '

and nodded as she turned

cried

Dyke

' ;

you can

to go.

stay, but I 'm

not going to have Jack back.'

'No! no!'

down

cried the

the bucket, she

woman

fiercely;

and banging

went through a pantomime,

which she took Dyke's hand and placed

it

in

upon the

back of her woolly head, so that he might

feel

an

DAYLIGHT.

26G

enormous lump in one

and

place, a cut in another;

then with wondrous activity went through a scene

which

in

appeared

she

have

to

some personage, and ended by getting whoever down, kneeling upon in the '

*

!

tief

'

Yes, I understand,' said

Baas shoot

Dyke

That

Dyke

lioness

* ;

but you must not

is there.'

lauo-hed.

gun,' she said.

carefully

took out and examined the car-

tridges in his piece, replaced them, and

the

head

pail.

The woman *

his

was

she cried, as she rose panting, and took

near the cow.

n-o

and punching

it

most furious way,

Jack

up the

his chest,

with

struggle

a

went forth with

woman, the dog bounding before them, but only

to

be ordered to heel, growling ominously, as they came in sight of the lioness, crouching in precisely the position,

and beginning now

Then, as

Dyke

to

but sank down

rise,

fiercely to

presented his piece, she acfain,

and

same

show her

teeth.

made an

effort

drae^o^ed herself

slowly toward them, snarling savagely.

And now Dyke saw which he had effect.

fired

Avhat

was

in the nio'ht,

wi^ong.

His

had taken

The brute had made one bound

bullet,

terrible

after beinnf

struck, and crashed through the fence, to lie after-

wards completely paralysed in the hind-quarters, so

267

DAYLIGHT. that

a carefullyHlirectecl shot

niischievous

career,

she

for

now

one

uttered

her

ended

quite

furious

with her forepaws, and then

snarl,

clawing a

rolled

over dead, close to the unfortunate cow she

had

little

down and

drao-nred

torn

in

the

most

horrible

way.

Tanta ran up and kicked

tlie

dead

and

lioness,

then burst out with a torrent of evidently insulting

language in her as

if

own tongue

;

after

which she went,

nothing had happened, to where the remaining

cow stood lowing impatiently, and pi'oceeded

milk

to

her in the coolest way.

Dyke exanuned

dead beast, and thought he

the

should like the skin, which was in beautiful condition;

but he had plenty of other things to think

of,

and

hurried back to the house, followed by Duke, to see

how

his brother was.

There was no change reloading to

sec

his

to

condition,

would

like

piece,

Emson was

:

sleeping

boy M'ent out

the

the ostriches, ^vhich seemed

and,

;

once

more

a

sorry

in

he

and

as

he

fed

to

set

the

melancholy-looking creatures

them, he

felt

as

if

free. '

But Joe wouldn't

thought Dj^ke

;

and

like

at last

find a pail half full of

it

when he

gets

better,'

he returned to the house to

milk standing at the door, while

'

268 the

DAYLIGHT.

smoke

risinof

that Tanta had

The

lit

from a

behind the buildinc^ showed

fire.

boy's spirits rose, for the misery and solitude of

his position did not

seem so bad now, and on walking

round to the front of the shed-like lodge, he found the

woman

ready to look up laughingly, as she kneaded

up some meal *

*

for a cake.

Where did you

get that

Wagon,' said the

mealie wao-on.

Jack

? '

woman tief.

cried

Dyke.

promptly.

Tanta Sal

'

fj^et

Jack get

mealie for

baas.'

'Yes, that's right; but you should ask me.

But,

You

under-

look here, Tant, Jack shan't come here.

stand

?

*Jack

tief,'

cried the

woman

angril}^

up from her knees she ran into the

lodge,

back with an old wagon wheel spoke hands,

flourished

it

about,

and

and jumping

and came

in her

floury

made some

flerce

blows. '

Dat

for Jack,' she said, laughing, nodding,

and then

putting the stout cudgel back again, and returning to

go on preparing the cake for breakfast, the kettle being already hanging in

its place.

Dyke nodded and went away, and

in

an hour's

timiB

he was seated at a meal at which there was hot bread

and milk, fried bacon and eggs, and a glorious feeling

'

DAYLIGHT. of hope in his breast

had eaten and drunk

for poor

;

289

Emson, as he lay

there,

that was given him, and was

all

sleeping once more. '

Bother the old ostriches

down

Dyke, as he looked

cried

*

!

eagerly at the sick man.

'

We We

can soon get

some more, or do something

else.

You

you couldn't have eaten

mending

're

like that;

and

anything

else

or

fast, Joe,

you get

if

well,

what does

Only you might look

?

shan't starve.

it

matter about

at a fellow as

if

you knew him, and just say a few words.'

Emson made no sim

;

but his brother was in the

best of spirits,

and found himself whistling while he

was feeding the

ostriches, starting up, though, in

as a

shadow

But

upon the ground beside him.

fell

was only Tanta

it

alarm

who

Sal,

looked at him,

smilino' the while, CD

'Jack

tief,'

she said; *teal mealie/

Yes, I know,' cried Dyke, nodding.

'

'Jack '

tief/ said

What

! '

cried

Tanta again.

Jack knock

Tant

'

What Jack knock !

head

Kill, hit stritch.'

Dyke,

'

feed.

'

kopf.*

the young ostriches

on the

?

'OoompsI' grunted the woman, and picking up a stone,

young

she

took hold of the neck of an imaginar}^

ostrich,

and gave

it

a

thump on

the head

:

270

DAYLIGHT.

with

the

then

stone,

np

looked

Dyke

at

and

laughed.

The

'

beast

Ooomps

'

!

'

he cried indignantly.

Jack

!

tief.'

Tanta looked sharply round, then ran ostrich bones lay, picked clean

where some

ants,

and stoop-

down, took somethin^r from the oTound, and ran

in^c

back

to

hand Dyke the skull

with one black '

by the

to

Jack,'

said

young

bird, pointing

a dint in the bone.

fino^er at

she

of a

— laconically

*

Jack

want

no

stritch.' '

No wonder Then

Dyke. '

our young birds didn't

to the

Find another one

woman,

live,'

as he pointed to the skull

!'

Tanta nodded, showed her white

teeth,

returned in a few minutes with two.

ran

the bone dinted in as

Both of those the condition,

tapped

it

if

by a round

woman

off,

and

Dyke having

the meantime found a skull with the same it,

thought

in

mark upon

stone.

brouQ-ht were in the same

and she picked up a good-sized pebble and against

the

depression,

showing that the

injury must have been done in that way. '

Yes, that

fullv;

'

's

it,

sure enough,' said

and we knew no

better,

Dyke

thought-

but fancied that

it

was

disease.'

He

looked glum and disappointed for a few moments.

:

271

DAYLIGHT.

and then briofhtcned as ho took the

had stood '

it

tapping

said,

and he added

Yes

cow,

* :

Jack comes,

I will too.

I

I

'11

pepper

'11

I 've got.'

ooomps/ said the woman, nodding her head

;

approvingly all

If

'

it.

to himself

him with the smallest shot '

from wliere he

against a fence.

Look/ he

shoot;'

ii'un

all

' ;

Jack say Baas Joe

Have all

die.

buU-liull, all overyting.

—Baas

mealie,

Joe not go

die?' 'No.'

Tant don't want

woman,

the

'No,' assented

nm any

smiling.

more.

'

Tanta

top.

No

Shoot Jack.

Tief.

kill.'

'Oh no! here again.'

won't

I

kill

him; hut don't

let

him come

•

Dyke went back

the

to

house in the highest of

spirits.

'It's all right/

why

he said to himself.

Oh

!

I

do wish

I

We know now

Nice sort of disease

the ostriches didn't get on.

that.

*

had caught the nigger

and as soon as

Bnt never mind, Joe

's

can leave him,

hunt out some more

we

'11

begin

all

I'll

getting on

over again, and

The boy stopped

;

at

nests,

it.

I

and

'

just inside the door, trembling, for

as he appeared, the very ghost of a voice whispered

feebly

DAYLIGHT.

272 '

That you,

little

un

?

How

long you have been/

The next moment Dyke was on

his

knees by the

rough couch, holding one of the thin hands in his and trying to speak; but liim

by the

it

was

throat, for not a

as

if

something had seized

word would come.

.'!/^^M

'

BT.ACK SHADOWS.

274

and ^yashed

Oh

j'our face.

Joe, old marij

you

've

been

just like a big, stupid old baby.'

'And have '

been

I

Yes, ever so long.

and when

flooded,

chap, I do feel so It

I "svas

the

got back, because

enough

a terrible while before

I did

out yonder

river

little

come, I

— — — oh I

I

I

was

Joe, old

happy once more/

was a wise addition

looked

?

lonsr

ill

much more

to his speech, for

miserable in his

in his aspect to

life

make Emson

;

Dyke never

])ut

there was

smile faintly, and

then close his eyes.

That brought back Dyke his position,

'Here!

and he sprang

to the responsibilities of

up.

been letting you talk too much while

I 've

you're so weak,' he cried excitedly.

Emson's

parted to speak, but his brother laid a

lips

hand upon them. *

No,' he

stronger

'you mustn't:

said,

and I've got

first;

Just at that

moment

doorway, and Tanta

to feed

you

'11

have to get

you up, old

cliap.'

a dark shadow crossed the

Sal's black face

appeared looking

m. 'Baas no £>-o

£fet

well.

p'O

Look

She held out a dozen new-laid

she said.

die,'

'Jack

tief.

Baas Joe

!'

roui^jh

e2f2;s.

basket, in

which were

half-a-

'

'

SHADOWS.

BT.Ariv

'Jack find

e^'o'^/

She took one in

shell

two

'Do

said Tanta.

gave

egg,

halves,

let

275 so.'

a tap, deftly broke the

it

run

white

the

and

out,

swallowed the yolk like an oyster, '

Here,

hard

hold

mustn't do

cried

!

'

ano-rily.

You

'

that.'

Taut mussen.

'No.

Dvkc

Jack find

do

e^'o's,

Jack

so.

tief.'

'Well, I 'm o-lad I

know where

Dyke, taking the remainder.

before

hungry

sa}^

our hens

thouglit

you

didn't

tell

us

killum/ replied the woman.

'Baas Joe

?

Not yet

;

woman, and

I

'11

lie

see to

him/

turned

said

now

Dyke, dismissing the

with his

e^^es closed,

with a

to his brother

strange dread creeping over him, for

if

went,' said

eo-crs

?

'Jack

'

'I

But wdiy

ought to lay some.

the

Emson

lay back

looking utterly exhausted, and as

the awakening^ from the lono- stao-c of delirium were

only the flickering of the light of

But by degrees Dyke that had asleep

burned

out,

life

realised that

it

in its socket.

was the fever

and Emson had only

— a restfully, calm sleep, from which

awaken

till

fallen

he did not

toward evening, wlien Dyke shivered

apprehension of the terrible attack

on about that time.

tliat

witli

would come

BLACK SHADOWS.

276

But there was no attack, and

after talking feebly

in a whisper, the invalid partook of a little food, then

lay watching the glow in the west, and soon went off to sleep again as calmly as

'It's all right/ cried to

do

now

is

believe I

He

Dyke

infant.

excitedly; 'all I ought

keep on feeding him up with good,

to

strenfrthenino'

an

oiven a

thino-s,

was cut out

at

little

for a doctor after

a

time.

I

all,'

stood watching the sleeper for a few minutes,

thinking of

how

perfectly helpless the strong

man had

become, and then a thouo'ht occurred to him. hour's time the miinea-fowl

would be cominoj

In an

to roost in

the trees beyondthe kopje, and a couple of these stewed

down by Tanta

Sal woukl

make

a delicious kind of

broth, the very thing for the sick man.

Going

out,

he called to the Kaffir woman, and sent her to watch over Emson; while, gun in hand, he prepared to start for the kopje, so

as to get into

before the o'uinea-fowl

His

first

act

was

came home

a good hiding-place to roost.

to whistle for

Duke, but the

doo-

did not appear, and this set the lad wondering, for he

remembered now that he had not seen

it

for hours.

But he was too intent upon the task he had to think

more

of the dog just then,

in

hand

and hurried on

past the kopje, and into the patch of forest growth which flourished consequent

upon the springs which

trickled

BLACK SHADOWS.

277

from the granite blocks that sheltered the spring and

few dozen acres

fertilised a riglit

down among

Dyke felt

as

if

land, before sinkino*

of

the sand and dying away.

a complete change had come over Lis

The golden

during the past few hours.

life

had

evenini:;

transformed

the

desert

light of

and

veldt,

everything looked glorious, while his spirits rose

so,

that had he not wanted the birds, he would have burst

out shouting and singing in the

Who

'

A

*

I did,

and Joe and

cloud

came over

trees.

recall the past

His

dancrers

I will

his

do well

brow

better.

Why,

yet.'

as he

made

for the

busy, and he began to

big, amiable, patient brother. !

'

he said to himself.

better then: I

and

know any

memory was

But never again

know any

t

—his discontent, and how trying he must

have been to his '

and didn

lovely,

patch of

of his

says Kopfontein isn't a beautiful place V he

said softly. it 's

exuberance

do now

troubles, or settin^jj

thing of no consequence at

all,

;'

I didn't

and, forgetting the

them

aside as some-

Dyke

passed on, and

at last entered the trees just as there

was a

something bright from which the sunset rays

But Dyke did not

'

glint of

flashed.

see the glint, neither did he hear

the bushes being parted as something glided tlirough

the

low o-rowth, and another something, and then

BLACK SHADOWS.

278

and

aiiotlior,

again

anotlier

—four

sluidowy

dark,

tigui'cs,

which glided softly away, and then seemed

to drop

down

flat

and remain

silent, as if

Dyke saw nothing and thought the broth

for

of nothing

and waited

hiding-place, he cocked his piece

while at the

birds;

of

click

click,

now but

picking out a good

invalid, but

his

watching.

something bright was raised about

the

for the

gun-locks,

yards from

fifty

where he was hiddeUj and the bright thing quivered above

bushes

the

for

a

moments

few

before

it

disappeared again.

That bright

now

rays

object,

which was gilded by the

sun's

flushing horizontally througli the trees,

was

the head of an assegai, sharp and cruelly dangerous;

but Dyke's eyes w^ere gazing straight away, over the desert veldt, while he felt as

ho should like to

if

wdiistle.

At

last there

was a distant

came the rushing

Come

bringing '

Now,

retrieved

hack!' and Dyke's

down if

I

those

then

of wings, the alighting of a noisy

which began to cry

flock of birds

back!

metallic clangour;

twice as

had old for

'

Come hack

gun spoke out

many birds. Duke here,

me,'

!

he

might

Come twice,

have

thought the boy, rising to

take a step or two toward the spot where his birds

had

fallen, the rest of the flock

having departed with

BLACK SHAUOWS. a wilil outcry, and as ho

moved, four assegais were

raised into a horizontal position.

by

wild

tJic

had

he

life

270

But, tauglit caution

been accastonied

he

to,

stopped to recharge his gun. Before he

had

barkincf at a

little

'Why,

([uite

there

finished^

was a loud

distance.

there he

me

tracking

is,

out,'

came again more

and, whistling sharply, the barking loudly, a shout bringing

Duke

Dyke;

cried

to his side, while, as

soon as the dog understood what was wanted, ho darted off

after

the

fallen

directly from close to

brinoimj;

birds,

two

in

where the assegais had been

poised. '

Good dog

with you

!

Two more

Seek

1

!*

cried

Dyke.

and

Dyke

'

Off

r

The dog bounded away

again,

stood

whistling softly to hiuiself as he examined his prizes,

and admired their clean-looking, speckled pkunage. ])uko was back directly, gave up the birds, coughed his teeth clear of fluffy feathers,

and then turned and

stood lookino- in the direction from

whence he had

fetched the guinea-fowls.

'Oh

yes,' said

soon, but

Dyke in

we

his

master,

've Q'ot enoucfh

:

*

there

so

'11

come

be plenty more alono-/

shouldered his gun, carried the speckled birds

a bunch by their

legs,

and walked away toward

BLACK SHADOWS.

280

the edge of the forest patch, the clog looking back

from time

to

time,

and barking* uneasily.

But the

master could not read the dog's warning he attributed ;

to the L^inea-fowl comino* to roost, thouo-h black-

it

faced lurkers,

armed with

assegais,

were on the dog's

they were safely out of the

forest, at

whose

edge the four Kaffirs paused to watch, while

Dyke

trail till

went on toward home.

And now

The open

the wood.

made him

his

veldt,

to lead his

in hand,

and he beo-an barkin^r

well enough

lon<>'

was

it g'o.

though, he yielded to the dog's importunity,

and

time past,

but with

time he refused to

feeling sure that a portion of their stock trouble,

;

and the purpose for which

intended in mind, for a last,

left,

master away beyond the ostrich-

Dyke understanding him

game

At

with the kopje on their

recall somethin^^ else,

and tr3dng pens,

the dog forgot that which he had seen in

tliat

till

Duke had been

watchin*>-

must be it

he heard the reports of the gun.

for

in

some

CHAPTER DUKE

YKE

XXV,

">.-.

S FJND.

had not far

to

o"0

on and lookinc^ back to see if

it

— the

fruiii

doo*

runuiiii^

time to time

was followed, and then going

on again. *

He

has found a snake, perhaps,' thought Dyke, as

he looked in every direction, but could see no sign of the bullocks,

Duke went '

Hero

I

1

follow,' cried

But the

on.

want

Dyke

doi>' CD

back with these

to get at

last.

*

birds, old

Come along back/

stood fast, and be^-an to bark O ''

^;

then

plunged in amongst some niilkbush^ and barked louder than ever. '

Well,

I

must

Dyke, and just as

see it

what he has

found,'

thought

was getting dark, he ran on the

hundred yards which separated him from the dog,

and found him

in a state of irreat excitement.

282 '

duke's find.

Now

what

then, stupid,

shan't go

any

farther, mind.

what have you got

V cried Dyke.

it

— Wiiy,

hullo

!

;

a

pair

of

'

1

old chap,

Wliy, they re lion cubs

?

Sure enough they were

whimpering

is

!'

chubby,

hig,

heavy way resembled

cubs, that in their

puppies more than creatures of the cat family. Here, come away,' cried Dyke, after kneeling

down

examine the stupid-looking, tawny things, 'We

shall

'

to

make

the mother feel as fierce as can be, and there

But how

be no mercy for us then, old chap.

world did they come to be here

came.

'

and the poor

little

be a mercy to

kill them.'

It

in the

Their mother must

?

be prowling about the place, and cried, as the light

'11

was

Oh, I their

mother

creatures are starving.

It

see,'

he

I shot,

would

But the cubs whimpered and whined, and seemed amiable, that

so

Dvke

felt

as

he could not be

if

merciful in that way. '

Seems

stupid,'

he

muttered,

murderini^ thing's without there

's

*

but

I

can't

go

a o'ood reason for

it.'

Slinging his

gun over

his back, he took a piece of

leathern thong from his jjocket and tied the legs of his birds together, noticing that, as he did so,

was poking the young the fat

little

creatures,

lions about

Duke

with his nose, and

which were about a third

of

— duke's Fixn. his

were

size,

up

snuggling

283

him

to

comfort,

for

whining Hke puppies the while. *

Duke

Here,

He

!'

he cried

sluno^ the birds CD

' ;

carry/

on either side of the

I

and then stooping down, picked up the

fat,

heavy

and then started for home.

to him,

'Nice position for

me

Suppose their mother

young

stealing her

if

I'm wrong,' he muttered.

isn't

Ugh

ones.

house with

his

watching him

;

to

prizes,

while

me

dead, and she finds !'

But he was not wrong, and soon

floor,

J

J

where they nestled

cubs, tucked one under each arm,

'

neck,

do<.'''s

find

after entered the

Emson awake and

Tanta Sal crouched on the

gazing at the lamp which she had

lit

and seemed

admire intensely.

to '

on

How

are

you V was

Dyke's

beincj assured in a faint

first

question,

and

echo of a voice that his

brother was better, he handed two of the birds to the

woman

to take

'Take

lion's

severely. ^

Who

'

and stew down at once. babies too V she said, shaking her head

Not good

wants

to eat

going to keep them. see those birds '

Soup

dinner.'

?

eat.'

them? 'said Dyke. Come, make

'No:

haste.

I

I'm

want

cooking into soup.'

Ooomps.

Tant know make tea

— coffee

to

DUKES

284 '

'

FIND,

No; no; soup/

Ooomps

make

;

bird tea, coffee

Baas Joe drink in

?

spoon/ 'Yes, that's

you understand/

right;

and the woman hurried out with the followino'

his instinct

her,

cried

13yke,

dog

birds, the

him. that there

teachin^^

would be the heads and possibly other odds and ends

But before

to fall to Ins share.

he went and

o-oino-

poked at the two cubs and uttered a low bark.

'What do you think

of

Joe?' said Dyke,

these,

picking up his prizes, and placing them on the bed. '

Dangerous,

mother '

No

will scent I

:

feel

She

night.

un,'

little

lies

Emson

said

feebly.

'

The

them out/

sure

it

was

their

mother

I shot last

out yonder where Tant and I dragged

her.' *

Ah

!

'

said

Emson

softly,

brought in to show me. '

She did

?

Bravo

1

'

it

was her

She stripped

well done, Tant

skin

it off*

1

Tant

to-night/

But look

here,

Joe: couldn't I bring these cubs up?' '

Yes, for a time

;

but they would grow dangerous.

Try.'

That night, after finding very getting

the cubs to

soaked in milk,

little

difficulty

in

suck a couple of pieces of rag

Dyke dropped

the lioness had come to

life

asleep, to

again,

dream that

and was waiting

at

'

duke's find. the door for her cubs

Sal once more, just

woke np

at

it

stew overnight, and

set to

early to get ready

Emson partook with

proved to be only Tanta

daybreak, with a tin of the

which she had

soup,

Ijird

but

;

285

the

for

Of

baas.

this

avidity as soon as he woke, his

brother langliing merrily as he fed liim with a wooden spoon, while Tant grinned with delight. '

Jack say Baas Joe go

le^f^ CD

with her hands.

Dyke

'

die,'

Jack

she cried, clapping her .'

tief

morning when he

endorsed the words that

visited the

still

unladen wao-on, for a

bao- of suo-ar

and

some more meal had disappeared.

Ho '

It

stood rubbing his ear viciously. 's

my fault

said in a

for not taking the things indoors,'

vexed tone of voice

thino'

and

to set

Duke

' ;

but I can't do every-

feedino* those cubs last niHit

made me

up, '

for^Tt

to watch.'

Then a thought struck him, and he put side the tilt

he

his

head out-

and shouted for Tant, who came running

and at once climbed into the wagon.

Did you fetch some mealies from here

asked Dyke.

'No:

that will do;' and nio'ht,

making up

night

— excitedly 'Jack

woman so,' said Dyke thoughtfull}^

Jack,' cried the

'Yes; I thought

last

his

mind

to

'

?

tief.'

Thei^e,

watch that

he went back to the house, had a few words with

286

nrKE's fixd.

his brother, right,

and then went round

coming back

him the

to breakfast after

lioness's skin

Dyke watched

Tanta had shown

pegged out to dry.

that

watched the next

was

to see tliat all

night,

but

vain

Duke

;

had

vain, for there

also in

nio'ht

in

wagon

to be

emptied and

For Emson required, in his weak

state,

an enormous

been too much to do for the stores brought

tlie

in.

deal of attention, which, however, brother,

who had

him grow

;

"svhile

the Kaffir

and never seemed

being to keep her

culty

to his

the satisfaction day by day of seeing

slightly better

indefatigable,

was a delight

to sleep,

woman was

Dyke's

diffi-

from making the patient

travel in a retrograde path

by giving him too much

to eat. '

'

Baas Joe muss plenty meat,

No

eat,

Baas Joe

coffee,'

she said.

die.'

Hence Dyke had plied.

tea,

haixl

work

to

keep the larder sup-

Fortunately, however, the guinea-fowls' roosting

place proved to be almost inexhaustible, and twice over a

little

buck

fell to

Tlicn there

the boy's gun.

was an ample supply

and dried meat

to stew

of milk,

some

eggs,

down, so that the patient did

not fare so badly, as his returning strength showed.

But progress with the ostrich-farm was still,

and Dyke used to look at the great

at a standstilt-stalking

'

duke's find. birds with

a sorrowful

air,

287

and wish thoy were

all

runnino' wild.

'But you are

evening as he sat by '

better fast, Joe,'

o-ettino*

conch.

tlie

Getting better slowly, not

Emson

sadly.

'

said one

lie

fast,

Heaven kno^vs how

un/ replied

little

I pi\ay for strength,

so as to relieve you, boy.' '

Wlio wants

All I

mind

because

now

'

to be relieved

is

not

I

liave not

o'ettino-

? '

Dyke

cried

roughly.

on better with the work,

Jack

to

on so

I get

help.

slowly.'

'I

know,

Emson

D^'ke,' said

sadly, as he

lay there

propped up on his bed. *

Hullo

What 's

!

the matter

'Nothing but what '

Oh, no! don't say

is

?

What have

that,' cried

the bo}^

But, I say, don't call

me Dyke.

'

we used '

But we

and manly

knew

Ha

Dyke had made

tlie place,

you were taken

are, old chap.

I never

than ever.

for

to be before

keeping

!

as

I 've

've

It

you were getting formal with me, and as

done

?

patient and persevering.'

been a discontented grumbler ever since I Joe.

I

if

always

been hero,

sounds as

we

if

w^ere not

bad.'

Better and more brothcrl}^ till

now how

brave, and true,

he's gone,' sighed

Emson

sadly;

a sudden bound, and dashed out of

fiwi\y for fully half

he tlirust in his head once more.

an hour, before

288

dcke's find.

down.

I

Look

'

want liere,

do as I

I shall

to

'Come and

Emson.

'Ah, there jon are/ said

sit

speak to you.'

Joe/ cried Dyke.

'

'm baas now, and

I

Are you going

like.

any more

to talk F

of that nonsense

am

I

?

going

'

I shall not talk nonsense.

*

You

for

have

weak, and

Such

ill ?

you have fed me and washed as stupid

forgive

He

's

as

this time;

you

grip!

hands with a

and

sickly,

but

rot

my

face

I 'd

if

grown

his

arm

Why, a fortnight ago

it

You can

a^'ain.

was

like shaking

I say, Joe, old

deail chicken.

I'll

Hooray-y-y-y!

ever

if

his

Why, wouldn't

!

There, sliake hands.

?

some muscle in

o-ettino'

him

feel

and weak

you

'

wants to be told that he helped

when he was

brother

are.'

only said

I

It s

it.

Who

sentimental.

you

Don't you get only saiding again,

stop, sir.

won't

I

if

man, yon

are heaps better.' '

Yes, I 'm

better.

o-ettinij^

I

feel

as

I shall live

if

now.' '

Live

?

Now

there

you were ever going

to begin with, I 'Isn't it short

a jolly old stupid

to feel

Joe: I shall have to spoiling you, giving

's

anything

make an

else.

alteration.

you too many good

think I

'11

!

Just as

Look

il

here,

I've been

things.

And

cut your hair/

enough V said Emson rather piteously,

as he feebly raised his

hand

to his temples.

duke's find. Yes, there:

*

down

it '«

all

Breezy 's mane.'

like

shall cut

But

Dyke/

it,

'

Ah-h-h

'

looks nice and fashionable.

it

at the back

Then you

*

289

]

*

Well then, young un.

*

Gettinir wild for

But how

want

of ridinir.

is

poor Breezy V

I

went toward her

yesterday, and she began dancing a pas-de-deitx-legs

on her fore-hoofs, and sparred at the sky with her

Wait a

hind.

bit,

and you and

I

take some of the

'11

We

steam out of her and Lon^shanks.

no end of

hunt out

ostriches' nests in the farther-oft* part of the

Here, what are you shaking your jolly old

veldt.

head

'11

for

It

?

been

's

quite

shaky enough, hasn't

it?' '

I

said

was thinking

Emson

sadly.

of the *

No,

my

Two hundred

over that.

ostrich-farming, lad,

little

un,'

no more time wasted

years hence they

may have

got a more manageable strain of domesticated birds that will live well in confinement.

and *

We 've

had our

try,

failed.'

Bah

!

Not

half

won't give up.

We

'11

black scoundrel Jack

Oh, Joe,

if I

I

tried.

do

it

who

haven't. yet.

No, Joe, we

Why,

it

was that

caused half the mischief.

could only have caught

him when he

w^as

knocking those poor young birds on the head, and had

my gun

with me.' s

duke's find.

200 *

What

They

had small

I 'd

'If

hide nicely.

say,

I

stopped the shot '

shot

in one

peppered

his

have

corns.'

Emson, smiling

said

No,'

barrels.

clothes wouldn't

his

Joe,

the

of

have just gone through, and

'd

V

would you have shot at him, young un

I

;

'

his clothes wouldn't

have stopped them.' '

Hooray-y-y-y

two

I

shouted

'

Dyke

and

again,

the

lion cubs looked over the packing-case in whicl 1

they were confined, wonderingly. '

Look

him

at

A

!

have the whole laugh soon. wasting time '

Yes

But

shall

there, I mustn't stop,

here.'

stay a

;

Wc

regular half laugh.

longer, little un.

little

want

I

to

talk to 3'ou/ said Emson. '

and *

my

About

so noodley

No, no

;

being such a nice, good boy

No, you don't.

?

I will

I

'm

—so

brave

off'

not say a word about that.

I

want

to talk to you.' *

But the

'

They must

ostriches

made us wait

want

wait,'

feeding.'

said

for profit.

Emson Look

sadly.

'

here, little

They Ve un

;

sit

down.' '

Well,

if

you want

it.

But, honour bright

buttering me.' 'I

want

to talk about our future.'

:

no

duke's find.

'

goini^' to

a big success of the farm.'

No, boy

^What! *

We're

can tuU you that, Joe.

*Well, I

make

291

No

are going to give

should be ashamed to take

for so worthless a

We

bargain.

what skins and feathers

together

it up.'

Sellit?'

I

;

we

;

money

man

olf a

are going to scrape are ours, so as to

pay

our way, and going home.' '

*

What

We

empty

!

?

cried

'

must, boy.

Dyke.

'

That we

won't.'

never be myself

I shall

till 1

have

been under a good doctor.' '

What

thing

they '

nonsense, Joe

else.

're

—

There,

let

's

talk about some-

how

playful the cubs

like big St

Bernard pups than

say,

I

more

!

sternly.

prospects

when

I

was thinking

I

'

was sickening

bitterly

lying here helpless

we must prepare we *

Beaten 're

We

!

;

and as soon

Go home, and say

must accept the isn't

later the fish

our

and

I

have been

I

as I can get

'' :

It

's

of

about,

use, father

;

inevitable, little un.'

to feel

would

no

'

any inevitable wlien you

One always used

of

for going home.'

a poor, helpless pair."

'There

but

Emsou

for this fever,

have thought more about them since

;

kittens.'

Let us talk about our future, boy,' said

rather

'

get

're

my ago,

Joe.

on a bad day that sooner or

beu'in to bite.'

'

'

292

duke's find.

we used

change

'

Yes, but

'

Sometimes.

Well, let

then.

But

would be a

failino'

water here, and even

it

to

do come 8ometimes, have another

You 've

'

it 's

Why,

what

of

'

course.

while vou were

a capital place.

I say, Joe,

Do you remember ? What fellow doesn't remember been

lias

ill,

Joe,

I 've often thought of

?

and

There, never

myself really

never-

the lions and baboons

if

mean

for us to

what a nuisance

of

have been while you were so

you

We've got

pity.

place,

quite changed your tune, old fellow,' said

donkey he

a

change to another

\s

try.*

Emson mournfully. '

to another place/

And

patient.

mind that

!

—

I

it

must

I said to

I say, Joe,

do

go back beaten?'

'Yes.'

Not have one more try

'

No

'

:

But

*

I

am

too

I 'm not. I'll

you come

round.'

I say

it

is

down.'

'm getting

full of

pluck and work

do anj^thing to keep things going

Emson shook '

'i

much broken I

now, and

'

his

till

head sadly.

of no use,

my

lad

;

we

are trying an

impossibility/ *

Then

let

's

try something

old Morgenstern said

else.

What

do you think

?

'That we were wasting time over the ostriches/

'

duke's find.

293

But he

'Well, yes, he did say that.

said something

else.'

What?'

*Yes?

That he heard they were finding diamonds out on

'

you

the veldt, and that he should advise

have a

to

good try/ 'Moonshine, boy.

The other day

you think we should be wise hunting for diamonds

Dyke

was

it

Do

gold.

in spending our days

?

scratched his ear, glanced at his brother, and

then shook his head. '

Come, you are wise

good, honest, old fellow, but

body's advice

know

on your

best yourself.

Old Morgenstern

in that.

docs not do to take anj^-

it

own

There,

I

about which you

affairs,

must not talk any more

but don't ^0 dreamino; about diamonds,

and

I did

a

is

not come out here to

little un.

make a

;

You

fortune, but to

get a straightforward, honest living.'

Emson till

closed his eyes,

and Dyke

his reo^ular breathino- told that

and then the lad went out

to

sat

watching him

he was fast asleep,

go and busy himself

about the place, meaning to take his gun that evening

and make for the patch of forest beyond the kopje, as to shoot a couple or so of the guinea-fowl

;

so

but a

sharp storm came on and prevented him, though at bed-time,

when he looked

out,

after

seeino^ that the

n duke's find.

294*

lion

cubs and dog were

curled up happily enough

together, the stars were shining brilliantly, and a dull, soft light in the east told that the full

moon would

soon bo up.

Five minutes later he was in his corner, feeling very drowsy, and a

troubled in his mind about his

little

brother's determination. '

But Joe

Dyke

think differently when he gets

'11

said

to

himself

whether he ou^'ht not '

One

but

'

wagon, and I

and then began

I

to

think

have watched the waccon.

work and watch,

can't

yawned,

to

;

better,'

too/ he thought as he

might have made Duke sleep in the

will.'

But he was

so utterly

wearied out that he kept

putting off the getting up from minute to minute,

he forgot

all

about

it

in sleep,

till

plunging at once into a

troubled dream, in which he saw his brother standing,

angry and threatening with a big stick in

and about

to bring

it

down upon him with

thud for neMectino- their valuable

awoke

to

that dream.

fi

nd

tliat

th oi'c

stores,

was some

his hand,

a

heavy

when he

.substance

i

'

CHAPTER

XXYI.

THE NIGHT ATTACK.

OR

a few moments

Dyke

could not collect

himself sufficiently to speak, but stared at the black figure leaning over him, with

what seemed

to

be a heavy cbib, while

the shadow cast by the feeble lamp upon the wall to his left looked prodigious.

Get up

'

felt '

Come

!

1 '

was whispered

in his ear,

and he

the stout cudgel pressed upon his legs.

You, Tant

'

Oomps.

*

What r

? '

he faltered.

Jump.

Jack come.

cried D3'ke

Jack

tief.'

springing up, half-dressed, as

he had lain down. '

Shoo

!

'

whispered the woman.

*

You want me

*

Oomps.

'

You

to shoot

Wagon.

Jack

^

Bring gun,

shoot.'

?

Kaffirs take all mealies.'

re a pretty sort of a

wife,'

thought Dyke, as

'

THE NIGHT ATTACK.

296

he caught up his loaded gun from the corner, and

wondered that the dog had not

stinted.

Just then Tanta Sal touched his arm, pointed to the light, '

and made a puffing sound with her

Put

it

out

? '

lips,

he whispered.

She nodded, and Dyke turned down the wick, the place was only *

Where

wagon '

up by the

lit

they V

are

so that

pale rays of the moon.

whispered

Dyke.

At

'

the

?

No, not come

to-night 'long

o'

;

Jack come say Tant Sal go 'way

Gone

Jack.

fetch Kaffir, carry mealies.

Come.'

She took his arm tightly and led him

which he found she closed '

it

ajar,

to the door,

and as soon as they were outside

after them.

Stop a moment.

Let

's

have the

dog.'

No dog make noise, and Jack top. Come.' The woman led him to the wagon, and mounting '

:

and crept in

to the box, opened the canvas

on

silentl}^

while the boy hesitated to follow.

Suppose

it

was a

trap,

and Tanta had her husband

and two or three men in waitinof CD '

Absurd r he thought the

should they hurt

wagon

me

?

there.

next moment.

'Why

They could have robbed

the

without.'

Mounting then quickly, he

felt his

arm

seized,

and he

THE NIGHT ATTACK. was

drawn

half

on one

into the wagon,

while the canvas

side,

297

where

all

was black

showed faintly in

tilt

the moonlight on the other^

Dyke was

make

just able to

woman

oat that the

was watching by the canvas, which hung over the front '

;

then she reached back to him.

Jack say try

Baas Dyke some *

That

's nice,*

'

Jack

tief.

'Then

kill

Baas Dyke, but dog come.

day.'

whispered the boy.

Want wagon, want

it's

Kill

'

What

horse,

for

want

V

all/

Dyke, 'and ho shan't have

war,' said

them/ '

Shoo

!'

whispered the woman, and she leaned forward

with her head half out of the opening.

Then turned

quickly.

'Jack come, Jack one, Jack one, Jack '

'

one.''

Four of them V whispered Dyke. Oomps.

Baas Dyke shoot/

The boy pressed the

triggers

cocks of his piece, so that the

extremely

faint,

was a

breathing,

dull

wait.

made was

clicking

For almost directly

sound as of footsteps

and hands tugged

Whoever

it

;

a heavy

at the tightly fastened

canvas at the back of the wacfon.

low whispering.

he drew up the

and then stood ready and expectant.

But he had not long to there

as

Then there was a

was passed along

to the

THE NIGHT ATTACK.

298 the

of

front

wagon, and then there was a heavj^

breathing as the visitors

swung themselves up on

Dyke judging from

the wagon-box,

either three or four people

hesitating

about

firing,

the sounds that

had climbed

canvas was dragged back, and as

to

Dyke

Then the

up.

pointed his gun,

and then deciding

overhead to startle the marauders, one crept

to

shoot

in.

At that moment there was a whizz and the sound

of

a tremendous blow, followed by a loud yell of pain

and

a

shower

perfect

of

wonderful rapidity upon the sprang out and It

was

fell

blows

delivered

attacking party,

from the wagon

leaning out through

the canvas,

who

front.

almost momentary, and tlien

all

with

and

Dyke was

fired twice

at

random. 'It

won't

hit,

only frighten them,' he thought; and

then he turned cold, for at the second report there was a

yell,

the sound of a

fall,

of cries almost such as

a scuffling noise, and a series

would be uttered by a

growing more and more

distant, as the

feeling convinced that he

had shot Duke.

boy

dog, and listened,

Tanta Sal was of a different opinion. 'Dat Jack/ she

No come

kill

Dyke was

said,

laughing

softly.

'Jack

tief.

He

M^as

Tant now.' silent

for

a few moments.

thinking about what cartridges he had placed in his

Followed

Ity

a loud

yell.

THE NIGHT ATTACK.

301

gun, and remembered that they \yere No.

6,

which he

intended for the i>'uinea-fowl.

liad

'Those wouldn't a long

way

him/ ho muttered, 'and he was

kill

oK'

*No get mealies now/ the boy's musings.

woman, interrupting

said the

Baas Dyke go bed V

'

'Stop! suppose they are waiting?' whispered Dyke. '

Wait

What

?

she replied.

?

for

'

'

All run

No.

No come now/

away.

She climbed out on aside for

Dyke

to the

to follow,

box and held the canvas

which he

did,

down

the opening up again, and leaped

and then

tied

to stand listen-

ing to the dog's barking within the house. *

off,

Tant go while

sleep,' said

Dyke opened

the

woman and ;

she hurried

the door for the dog to bound

out growling, and ready to rush off at a word, but

Dyke

called

now

the fact of the dog

;

thought,

him

in

sufficient

and shut the door, fastening

sleeping inside being, he

protection

— the

coming

woman not beino- noticed bv Duke, who, of her down as a friend. But Dyke did not lie down for some assuring^

himself that the noise

brother from his heavy sleep.

about the woman. threatened to

She had

kill her.

it

of

the

course, set

time after

had not roused

his

The boy was uneasy

told

him that Jack had

Suppose he came back nov/

'

THE

o02

NlGtlT ATTACK.

with his companions to take revenge upon her fur betraying their plans. *

She woukln

t

know/ he

said to himself, after care-

fully weighing the matter over in his mind, to decide

that they would be afraid to come again after sucl 1 a reception. So, concluding at

quite safe,

lay

down

the dog

Dyke

hist

that the

woman would

reloaded his gun, placed

ready, and

it

once more, conscious of the fact

now

that

was awake and watchful.

Five minutes after he was asleep, and did not till

be

the KafBr

woman came and

show him, with a look

wake

tapped at the door, to

of triumph, four assegais left

behind by the visitors of the past night. '

Dat

Jack,' she

said,

holding up one.

*

Dose oder

fellow.' '

Will they come for

'

No.

them

?

Jack no come aoain.

Sal don't want any more/

Get other

wife.

Tant

OO-M STAUTLKS

304

FKTENDS.

fllS

to shoot the o'uinea-i'owl, showinn^ that he

have heen pretty near the In felt

mast often

Kaffirs' hiding-place.

Jack had had a very severe peppering, and

fact,

not the slightest

inclination

to

risk

receiving

another.

The subject

of giving

cussed, but even if

to travel

;

so the

were done,

it

many months must

up Kopfontein was often it

elapse before

subject

dis-

seemed evident that

Emson would be

was talked

of

less

fit

often,

though one thing was evident both to Dyke and his brother

—their

scheme

pletely broken down,

made

ostrich -farming

of

and unless a bold attempt were

to start afresh, they

would gradually become

poorer and poorer, for alone, valuable

collect

had com-

skins

all

Dyke's

were disposed

to

efforts

be

to

rather

unfruitful, try hard as he would.

Months had visitors,

passed,

and they had had no more black

but one day Tanta Sal rushed into the house

where the brothers were seated

at dinner, with such a

look of excitement upon her features, that up, seized one of the

brother,

help

if

who

Dyke sprang

guns and handed another

to his

stood up, looking weak, but determined to

danger were at hand.

But Tanta signed to

gesticulated,

Dyke

The cause

pushed the guns away, and

to follow.

of the

woman's excitement was evident

COM STARTLES directly, for there, a

by a long team were

have

to

iiiilo

away, was a wagon drawn

and

of oxen,

it

Emson rather

luck than ours, young '

was evident that they

visitors at the farm.

'Some poor wretch going np fortune,' said

805

HIS FRIENDS.

in the wilds to seek his

sadly.

him better

I wish

'

un.'

Oh, I say, Joe, don't talk in that doleful way,' cried

Dyke

'This

excitedly.

Robinson Crusoe and

is

It's

so jolly.

like

being

Here, wait wliilc

seeino- a sail.

I fetch the glass.'

Dyke

returned

the

next minnte with

liis

hands

trembling so that he could hardly focus and steady

Then

the 'optic tube.'

lie

and handed the telescope '

Why,

Who

'd

it 's

Sure enouo'h

to his hrothor.

that fat old

have thono^ht of it

shouted in his excitement,

Dutchman, Morgenstern

seeino-

was the

Great Mogul in the old

!

him V

old trader, seated like the

woodcuts.

He was upon

the wagon-box, holding np an enormously long whip,

and two black servants were with him

—one

at the

head of the long team of twelve oxen, the other about the heavy

the middle of the donble line of six, as

wagon came slowly

along, the

IjuUocks

seeming to

crawl. 'I

whip

am ?

glad,' cried

He

Dyke.

'I say, Joe,

looked in the olass as

if

see his great

he were

fishino\'

:

'

'

OOM STARTLES HIS FRIENDS.

306

'Tant make fine tea

? '

asked the Kaffir

Emson

'Yes/ said

Tanta Sal ran

woman

off to the

back

'

*

I

the

's

don't

biltono"

'But,' he continued, as of the house,

'

it

may

not

Fat Germans look very

the old chap.

is

German

for fat old

know.

My German

Dicker

here. '

—

alike/

Oh, but I feel sure this

what

boil

hospitably.

quietly.

be Morgenstern, young un.

much

— kettle

cake

bi^^

Because

to call

him

say,

I

?

has grown rusty out

Mann, perhaps.

alte

mean

I

man

—

that.

Why?' He always

called

me booby/ '

No, bube

:

—boy/ said Emson, smiling.

They stood watching the wagon creeping nearer for a minute or two,

meet the

visitors

;

Dyke

neaT*er

and

longing to run to

but he suddenly recalled the orderly

look at Morgenstern's, and rushed back into the house

make

try to

to

presentable

;

rough board

their

and he was

still

a

little

more

in the midst of this task,

when, with a good deal of shouting from the Kaffir servants,

and sundry loud cracks

the wagon, creaking fence in front

of

the

of the great whip,

and groaning, stopped house,

and

the

old

at

the

German

shouted '

Ach mein goot !

Vere

is

der bube

?

vrient

Emzon, how you vas to-day

?

'

'

'

'

OOM STARTLES

TITS

Dyke between

'Dicker alte Mann!' said

307

FRIENDS.

his teeth,

and hurriedly brushing away sonic crumbs, and throwa skin over the chest in which various odds and

ino:

ends were kept, he listened to the big bluff voice outside as

Morgenstern descended, shack hant mit an Eno-lander.

'It is o;oot to

you look

mein

tin,

dem vever

Yes, I 'vc been very

'

That

here

nod

dcr poy

is

you vas

haf been

down mit

?

'

is

You

vrient.

Bood

goot.

Ach

!

ill/

Bood you gcd besser now. 1

mein goot

liddle bube, ant

Ach,

how

?

Dvke's hands were seized, and to his horror the

huwcd him

visitor

to his

broad chest, and kissed him

loudly on each cheek.

'Oh, I

m

quite well/ said

Dyke

rather ungraciously,

as soon as he could get free.

Ov goorse you vas. Grade, pig, oogly, shtrong poy. am clad to zee you again. You did got home guite '

I

zave

?

'

Eh

?

*

Zo

?

j'ou led

Oh Ach

But that

yes. !

I

's

ever so long ago.'

haf been zo busy as neffcr vas.

mein two poys outspan, eh

Now

?

— Of course/ said Emson warmly. Show them where the best pasture toward the water, D3dce. — Come '

'

is,

Herr.

You

look hot and tired/

in,

OOM STARTLES

^08 '

am

I

Ja, zo. I

give you

zom

hour

with

the

'

Yes

your

;

'

vants

I

You

bibe.

und zhow me den

'

are

Oh,

laying '

:

j'ou

me

do

o'ed

I light oop,

go

round,

all

'm mending

noticing

upon

Emson's

o'ed besser,

— doo

mein

vrient.

tin.*

Emson

said

fast,'

visitor

hand

his

You muss

nod enouo*h dick I

said.

ostridge-bird varm.'

and

shoulder, he said

You

he

'

und den

;

went out together, the

everything;

?

o-om mit

und shaioke und dalk do you, und

all

men

his

pipe.'

mein bibe und mein dobacco din

They

I

Dyke, and winked

at

You know vad

wand mein

Ja, I

vagons.

and

visitor

refreshed, Morgenstern smiled

*

dem

to make.' later,

both his eyes.

me zomeden

schr hot, and you give

haf zom peaudivul dea in

to drink.

An

HIS FRIENDS.

and

hastily,

then they stopped by the wagon, with Morgcnstcrn's eyes twinkling as he turned to Dyke. '

You haf been

zo goot,' he said

und trinken zo mooch, dat vagon.

I

am

I

you make me ead

gannod shoomp indo den

Good

zo dick.

'

;

You shoomp

!

me mein bibe und dobacco din.' Dyke showed him that ho could

in,

and

out,

and

get

fetched

;

after the old

man had

smoke-clouds/ see

if

mein

he

piillocks

filled, lit

said

and

up, and

'

You

my

poys

:

dako is

it

begun

to

form

me now do

ead xind

trink.'

OOM

'

they

Oil,

'

're all riglit,'

Bood

Ja.

beobles

ist

STAllTLES

I

Ills

Dyke.

cried

always like do zee for

nod as goot as you

good draveller

isfc

300

FlUENDS.

Zom

nieinzelf.

vas, niein vrient.

A

kind do his beast und his plack

poy/

The

was soon

visitor

round

satisfied,

where Tanta Sal was

to

guests, who, after

down and gone

he was taken

for

smiling'

at l)er

making a tremendous meal, had

to sleep, wdiile the

two lain

oxen could be seen

at a distance contentedly grazing in a patch of rich grass.

You

'

haf no lions apout here/ said the old man, 'to

p-om und shdeal moin o-attle cried,

—Ah,

vot

ist

das?' he

turning pale as he heard a peculiar noise from

somewhere

und

?

Quigg

close at hand.

shoot, or der lion

!

You ged

der goon

gom und preak von

of der

oxen's pack.' *

It's all right,' cried

Dyke, laughing,

'

Come and

look

here.'

The old man looked rather wald and

Dyke threw open

as

a rough door in the side of one of

now growing

fast

came bounding

out.

the sheds, the two lion cubs, the size of a retriever dog, '

Ach

!

shdop.

pccause he

me V

is

strange, for,

Do

zo nice

towards

not led them ead der poor alter

und

vat.

Eh, dey will not hurt

OOM STARTLES

310 '

No

Dyke

cried

!'

'

;

HIS FllIENDS.

look here

:

they are as tame and

playful as kittens.'

Dyke proved charge him and

Ach

by dropping on

the clumsy, heavy

rolling

'

it

!

id

roll

cubs over, letting

him over

man.

to eat den alt

'

them

in turn.

vonterful/ said the old man, wiping the

is

perspiration from his face.

dem

and

knees

his

*

I did tought

You make dem dame

dey vas go

like dot mit

jambok.'

With a whip

Look here

:

pat

them and

You

try to bite.

No,' cried

?

Dyke

;

'

with kindness.

pull their ears.

They never

should see them play about with the

dog.' '

Boor

liddle vellows

den/ said the old man, putting

out his hand nervously. liddle lion.

*

Ach, no

They did not approve

is

all

bat,

you

over?

I

of the tobacco.

shut them

'Ill

doo

turned away and sneezed.

There, come along,' he cried

him.

to

id

Vot you mean py schmell me

am nod for you do ead.' Dyke laughed, for the cubs '

;

up

;

and the cubs bounded for

fear they

should

frighten your oxen.' '

Das

is

Q'oot/

satisfaction, as

great playful I zhall

gom

said

the

old

man

with a

siofh

of

he saw the door closed upon the two

cats.

*Bood you zhall mind, or zom day

ant zee you, but vind you are not ad

COM home,

VOL" die

311

S'L'AUTLES HIS FRIENDS.

young

lion haf

Emson

;

grow pig

unci ead

you

all

have to get

rid

of

oop.

'Yes/ said

them before very some

Sve

shall

They may grow dangerous

long.

day.'

'AchI I

dell

you

vot, niein vrient

dose lion ov you, or you led

me

shell

puy

Emzon,

I

dem,

go do

to

Angland or do Sharmany.'

*Do you think you could V

Do I dink I good ? Ja, I do drade gom now to puy itlbry und vedders. '

I

all '

you vedders, und have

I

them

sell

a

very poor

good

lot,

You

shell

me

brice.'

Morgenstern, but I

Dyke and

you.

to

I gif y^ou

in effery dings.

I

have

'11

done very

badly.' *

I

Zo

Bood you

?

will zell

do me.

vould go und zee mein vrient

He *

zay

I

am

honest man.

Of course/

what you The

are,

old

said

I zaid do myself

Emzon und den

bube.

—You droost mo V

Emson

frankly.

'I

know you

for

Morgenstern/

man

lowered

his

pipe,

and

held

out

his fat hand. *I liost's

dank you, Herr Emzon/ he hand warmly.

'

Id

is

said,

shaking his

goot do veel dot von has

a vrient oud here in der desert land.

gonzern apout you, mein vrient.

You

Bood

I

am

haf peen very pad.

OOM STAKTLES

312

You do

look sehr krank

padly. '

am

I

We 've

man

;

HIS FRIENDS.

unt you zny you

liaf

tone

rnoch gonzern.'

been very unlucky,' said

seated himself upon a block

Eiiison, as the old oi:

granite, close to

one of the ostrich-pens, while an old cock bird reached over and began inspecting his straw-hat.

am zorry. Bood vy do you not dry somedings Hund vor skins or vor iifory I puy dem all.

*Zo I else

?

Und

1

dem

not dry do keep den ostridge bird in

bood go und zhoot him, und

Or dcr

Hi

anodder dings.

is

zell !

gage,

die vedders do me.

You bube

:

did you dell

len bruders apout den diamonts V

(

'Oh

yes,

has been so

him/ said Dyke sadly; 'but he

told

I

thought once he was

I

ilL

cfoini:^

to

die.' '

Zo

Den tunder

!

me und mine

old

*

'

I

was

what vor you no gom und vetch

vomans She

avay das vcvers.

make you

!

like to be all alone,

'

You

Ja, zo.

Dyke.

You

Die frau

o-qui

und

vrii^jhten

vonterful old vomans.

is

She

ill/

and couldn't leave him/

was afraid he would

I

?

said

Dyke.

die if I did/

vas quite

riglit,

mein young vricnt Van

are a goot poy, unt

I

loaf you.

Zhake

mein hant/

The process was gone through, Dyke shrinking a little for

fear he

would bo

kissed.

OOM STAUTLES HIS FKIENDS. *

Und

zo die pirts do nod get on

313

said ^forgenstern

? '

after a pause, during

which he sat smoking.

*

No, in spite of

our care/ said Enison.

'

Ach! votistdas?' cried the old man, looking sharply

all

round, as his hat was snatched off by the long-necked bird which

pack

had been inspecting Id

to nie, shdupit.

ist

'You

it.

nod goot do

vill gif

eat,

und

sure id vould not vid your shdupid liddle het.

Duke

you, bube/ he continued, as

the

hat

*

liat.

Eh

?

you dink

it

dot

I aui

—Dank

rescued and returned Veil, it

goot.

vas a goot

bud you go avay und schvallow shdones, und make

;

me to puy. Ach dey are vonny pirts. Van Dyke. Und zo dey all go die ? We lost a great many through the Kaffir boy we

vedders for

!

'

'

Dyke,

had,' said

walked slowly back

as they

to the

house. '

Zo

'

We

Dyke '

Zo

He

?

them do

did not give

eat

*

?

saw that the birds had enoui^h '

;

?

to

eat,'

but he used to knock their heads with a

Dot vas nod

pirts to schvallow,

mein younger

goot.

bud nod

den

het.

I dink,

knog dot

shentle-

for outside

man's het outside mit a shdone, und zay do him,

gom

That

's

"

You

here again, or I zhall bepper

your black shkin mid small '

stone.'

Shdones are goot for die

vrient, I should haf

go avay, und neffer

said

what Dyke did

'

shot."

do,' said

Emson, smiling.

OOM STARTLES HIS FiUKNDS.

31-i

'

'

Zo

Ach

?

Hah

!

'

he

!

is

a vine poy/

sighed the old uaan as he sank upon a stool

in the house.

Now

'

I zhall

sumoke mein

bibe,

und den

go do mein wagon und haf a big long sehleep, vor I

am

dire.'

He

refilled his pipe,

and smoked in

minuteSj and then said thoughtfully '

Emzon, mein

am

krank, und I

am

vrient, I

silence for a

few

;

zorry to zee you veak und

zorry do zee your varm, und I

should not be a goot vrient

I did

if

not dell you die

truth/ *

Of course not/

said

Emson

;

and Dyke listened

You dake

'All dese has been a misdake. vice,

mein

vere

de}''

like,

No/ he

said,

I

'

am no diamond

my

mind what

to do.

'

brother, either. I

Dot

You

der vay. say, "

goot ad

I

It

would not

have made up ill,

and I

my

shall

and go back home.'

Nein, nein.

und

hunter.

am weak and

is

pecause you are krank.

you make your bruder quite is

for diamonts.'

his head.

be fair for

clear off

led die long-legged pirts roou

und you go ant look

Emson shook '

You

vrient.

goot ad-

Ve

are

shall

veil

und dry

nod go home

gom pack

like die

to

again.

your

pad

Bube,

Dot

alt beobles

shillings.

No

'

all."

'That's what I say/ cried

Dyke

eagerly.

'I

want

OOM STARTLES HIS FiUENDS. hunt

to

and

and

collect feathers,

skins,

ivory,'

Goot

'

and

for diamonds,

315

Und gom und

!

Ooni Morgen-

shell all to alt

stern/ '

Yes/ cried Dyke.

brother think as I *

Of

his eyes.

vevers in his pones of vizzick

him

all die

bube '

;

It

bud

und fery zoon he

"

till

we haf got

i

Oom

zhall

give

bud indo each zom vill

dake two

laugh ad

dem

glass,

vevers

und vedders, und

a load, und den

Morgenstern

we

— do dem

skins, vill

und diamonts,

go und

shell

dem

you

gall

alt ooncle,as

—Vot haf you got dere, bube V

Two

or three of the ostrich skulls that I found with

made

the marks said

vill

I

dot.

all

!

to get iffory,

him."

has got das

Hi Van Dyke, get on your horse and go mit

me

to alt

said the old man,

pecause he

pord wein, und he

effery day, :

know/

I shall

Id

ist

make my

to

haf in mein wagon zix boddles

quinines.

und zay

I

avay

und

boddles,

;

ist

I

vrighten

to

me

help

:

do.'

o-oorse I will,

winking

say

I

'

in

them by the

Kaffir with a stone/

Dyke, who had just been and opened the door of

his case of curiosities. '

Zo

! '

said the old

dot Kaffir poy you

dop of his

me

'

?

'Ah, und negs time you see

make zome

Und

het.

dini^s to zell

man.

blacc like dot

vot else have

upon der

you there

?

— any

COM STAUTLES HIS

31G *

Oh no

only a few curiosities

;

took these

I

I

Look

picked up.

!

out of the gizzard of an old cock

all

wo were

ostricli

FRIENDS.

obliged to

because he broke his

Ivill,

lecv.'

Dyke handed

a rough

wooden bowl

little

the

to

old man. '

'

Ach

Mcin cracious

!

You wouldn't have

he cried.

thouo'lit

rusty iron that

piece of

picked

' !

it

when

out

ho had swallowed

had

I

And

it.

pipe

fall

a

lost

Ivuife,

and the

a

iireat

I

and thought

it.'

and break on the rough

Dyke laughed

y

he had swallowed too;

'Mein cracious!' cried the old man let his

here

and he

ao-ain,

table.

as the visitor turned over the stones

bit of rusty iron.

'One would have thouMit

it

would

kill

swallow things like that, but they're rare Morgenstern

;

they

'11

tlieni

birds,

to

Herr

try and swallow anything, even

straw-hats.' '

so,

Mein

cracious, yes

bube^ you did vind

gizzard ov dot pirt

I

cried the old

!'

all

dose

man

—dose

acrain.

dings in

'Und

dem

?'

'Yes, all of them.

I've got another bowlful that

picked up myself.

There are a good many about

here.'

*You

vill let

me

loog ad dem,

mein younger vrient?'

Mein

cracious

! '

cried tlie old

man

auain.

OOM STARTLES HIS FRIENDS.

319

'Of course/ said Dvko, and he fetched from the

bowl that he had obtained

ease another rough little

from one of the

Kaffii^s.

There were about ton times as

many

of the stones,

and with them pieces of quartz, shining with metallic traces,

and some curious

seeds.

Morgenstern turned them over

again

and again,

and glanced at Emson, who looked low spirited and dejected.

Mein craciousl' cried the old man; then,

'Ach, zol

with his voice trembling

' :

of dose shdones apout here

IVe

'Yes;

Und

zo there are blendy

?'

pick them up

often seen the ostriches

and swallow them.

I suppose it's

because they are

brio'ht.'

'Yes, I suppose said the old

silently

ist

pecausc they are zo bright,'

man, pouring out a handful

into his hand,

the rough

it

of the stones

and reverently pouring them back into

wooden bowl.

Then

rising,

he shook hands

with Dyke.

'Goino; to bed

V

'No, mein younger vrlent, nod yed.

I

haf somedings

zay to your bruder,' and tui^ning to Emson,

to

rose

to

hands in '

say good-night to him, he his

took

both

who his

owm, and pumped them up and down.

Yoseph Emzon/ he

said, in a

deeply moved voice,

COM STARTLES

320

you when you

'I like I

zay dot

man

heart

game

virsl;

a shentleman

is

Now

Imbe, his bruder.

my

HIS FRTEXDS, clc.se

I loaf him,

;

und

barfcs,

unt den

here imd vind you

honest man, ant I dank den Loi'd

am, und dot

I

I feel

dot I am, und can say do you, mein young vrient,

who know what

beoblcs

und rob you, but

I

und

vould not.

You

I

zay do

vill

3'ou,

de droubles which

vont zom

say,

"

vill

vill

zom

sheat

daj^s to

Veil done, goot I

am

honest

your droublcs are

all

haf been zick, but you

und shdrong, vor you

I

Yoseph Emzon,

vaithful zervant."

man, und

know now would

I

und go vcr der Lord

die,

ill,

remember, doo, you zay I vas

I

ist 2ore.

gom

I

into

over.

zoon be quide veil

not haf das sore heart, und

make de

hair drop

out of your

bet/ *

Thank

well enough to

'Bood vou man.

You

'

You

vill

Morgenstern.

3'ou,

go,'

viil vill

Emson,

said

not

I

e'o,

all

I shall

soon be

sadly.

mein vrient/

not leave

shdop und get

hope

here

— mein

die ostridge

cried the old cracious,

no

!

you gan, und

shend deui out effery day to big oop zom shdones, und

den you

vill

dig oop der earth vor die pirts to vind

more shdones, und when dey haf shvallowod gan,

you und der bubc hero

vill kill

all

dey

dem, und empty

die gizzaivls into die powls of water to vash dem.' '

No, no, no

:

wliat nonsense

!'

cried

Emson, while

OOM STARTLES

Dyke suddenly dashed looked at

Hurray

*

real

?

!

For

'

'

to the table, seized

one bowl,

and bano-ed them down

contents,

its

321

HIS FRIENDS.

he yelled.

'

Oh

like a light shot

a^'ain.

Herr Morgenstern,

!

from one of the

is it

crystals,

he saw the truth. 'Nonsense, Yoseph

Emzon

cried the old man.

? '

'Id

wisdom, as goot as Zolomon's. "- der "-* c'reat O o Yoseph Emzon, I gongradulade you. You haf had a drue

is

hart shdruggle, but

made you

haf

right, for

'But those *

*

you

it is

ofer now.

a ferry rich man,

always do

vill

— but — do

I

und

Die ostridge I

know

dot

pirts it is

goot.'

understand

Are those

?

'

Yes, Joe,' roared Dyke, springing at his brother.

There

is

you are

no more room for despair now, old chap, for

rich

being so

;

and

to

think

when you were

Oh, I can't speak now. for the good they Joe,

and there

'11

we never thought

it

— and them — only

so unhappy, and

I don't care for

do to you, for they re diamonds,

plenty more diamonds, and

's

of

all

your

own.' '

Yes,

und pig vons,

look of triumph trink.

I

;

too,'

said the old trader, with a

'und now

haf dalk so much,

I I

must haf somedings veel as I

Here, bube, you go und shoomp indo

shall

dem

to

shoke.

vagon, und

bring one of die plack poddies out of mein box py vere

u

:

' '

:

OOM STARTLES

322 Id

I shleep.

is

HIS FRIENDS.

der bruder's vizzick, bud ve

trop to-night do gongradulade him,

vill

trink a

und you dwo

shall

trink do der health of dis honesd alt nianns.'

The

bottle of port ^Yas fetched, a portion carefully

medicated with quinine, and Morgenstern handed

to

it

the invalid.

^Mein vrient/ he

glad das heart of man.

A *

few minutes

now

I go

your goot

health.'

later the old trader said softly

to say

mein brayer und get

was about an hour

of the jackals

wein dot maketh

is

I trink do

und Gott

Goot-night, mein vrients, It

'das

said,

later,

was heard

pless

when

niein schleepc

you

both.'

the faint yelping

in the distance, that

Emson

said softly

young un

'

Asleep,

'

No, Joe;

I

?

cant get

ing, or is all this true

off

nohow.

*

am

I

dream-

?

'It is true, lad, quite true

and

I say,

and

;

I suppose that

you

I are going to be rich men.'

Rich

man and

boy, Joe.

I say

:

are

you pleased

?^

'More thankful than pleased, Dyke, for now, when

we *

like,

we

can start for home.'

Without

Then

I

am

feeling

glad.

shamefaced and beaten,

I didn't quite

know now and we can make ;

happy,

too,

Joe/

know

eh,

Joe

before, but I

the old people at

?

do

home

:

'

OOM STARTLES HIS FRIENDS. 'As far as money can make them '

Hullo

! '

cried

Dyke

you are a

' ;

323

so, little un.'

bit

happy

after

all,

Joe.'

'What makes you say '

You

me

called

I can feel that,

gone now, you

Emson was

" little

with

'11

all

that

?'

un "

just in your old way, and

the worry and disappointment

be able to get well/

silent for a

few minutes, and then he said

softly '

I

Yes

care

:

I feel as

for

the

because

Dyke was Emson was home

if

I can get better

riches

Are you fast

for

sleeping

sake,

riches'

listening, little

asleep, too,

now

un

;

not that

Dyke, but

?

and a few minutes later

and dreaming of faces at

welcoming; in the old country V

him back, not

the sake of the wealth he brought, but because he

once more a hale, strono* man.

for

was

'

CHAPTER

XXVIII.

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

T 'S to-moiTow morning, little un.' Dyke did not stir, but he seemed

to

hear the words. *

and

bustle.

day

hear,

little

un

?

Tumble up

Let's have a comfortable meal

Do you

joins us. all

Do you

hear, sir

?

Are you going

when he to sleep

?

Certainly he was not, tor

Dyke had sprung

up,

and

was staring

across the place at where, half-turned from

Emson

lay gazing at the golden east, where the

him,

sun was about to '

Little

rise.

un: are you going to get up

Dyke sprang from

?'

his bed, darted to his brother,

caught him by the slioulder and pulled him round as to look

him

'AYhat's smilinoT-

so

in the face.

the

matter,

sleepy

head?' said Emson.

'

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

Why,

'

'Oh

again/

himself

it s

325

Dyke

cried

man, you are better and no mistake.

Joe, old

went

haven't heard you speak like that since I Morgenstern^s. '

\Yhat

is it

— Oh ? '

was

to old

Emson.

cried

here,

I

!

'I'm not quite awake that he

excitedly.

Yes

yet.

I am, but I forgot

and about the diamonds

;

and

—Joe,

Joe, old chap, I don't believe pi^ecious stones ever did

much good

so

before.'

'Don't talk about them, boy,' said Emson, holding his

hand tightly

brother's

terrible load

had been taken

morning that

this

'But

in his. off*

I shall see

I

do seem as

body and

;

I

have

talked about going, but never felt that I should see till

a

I feel

brain.

home again and

if

it

now.'

'Then hooray

for being rich

!

But, I say T

'What?' '

Suppose any one one should come and rob us now,'

Emson '

The

lauo-hed aloud.

that

trouble

first

attends wealth,

little

un.

sorrow and disappointment like

There, we've borne men.*

'Man and *

boy, Joe.'

Like men. Dyke, for you have been a better

than

I.

Now

as patiently

then,

we

and well/

'11

man

bear prosperity, please God,

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

326

Why,

*

of course/ cried

with the jolly old

.stones

Dyke

' ;

but what did you do

V

*Put them in your bowl, and then in the see that the breakfast

but I feel too weak to '

Ah, but vou won't

is

I'm

readv^

Cfot

far better.

help.' lon^- if

m on like this/ cried

you

Dyke, dressing hurriedly, and beginning

morning wash

Now

case.

in the bucket.

have his

to

say Joe, though,

'I

have some luxuries, now, as soon as we

can.

let's

What

do you say to a wash-hand basin V *

*

Oh yes, we have that.' And a sponge Here, I say '11

?

I

:

wonder whether old

Morningstar has got any sponges: we boots, too

mine are getting

:

sedan-chair

un

'All in good time, little first '

thimx

Ah, we

now

is

;

all

in

New

ride in the

old trader

good time: the

breakfast for our o^ood old

have another spoonful

'11

pot this morning,

The

Paddy s

one.

'm on the ground.'

I

;

like

buy

"11

ot*

visitor.'

coffee in the

Joe.'

met them

at breakfast

and smiled as

he shook hands.

'Ach mein

ten!' he cried, *but

Der beace

violent.

are besser^ delling

me

You need all

of

you haf geschlafen wohl,

mind

is

a goot ding.

not speak, for your eyes are

der diine what dey dink, bube.'

*I 'm sure he

's

You

better,' said

Dyke

eagerly.

!

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

'Und he half been

^Oh

327

zoon be guite himselfs again.

vill

I zee

you

mein oxen, Van Dyke.'

clo

had a look at them; they were feeding

yes, I

well;

Ja

*

die poys dell

;

me shday

let

rested,

nnd

I

dill

me

Now

zo.

go do ask you do

I

do-morrow, und den die peasts

m on

vill

a^^fain/

Don't hurry, Herr Morgenstern,' said Emson.

'

and

I

must have a

'Die shdones

pe

loner talk

about

—about

'

You

'

Nein, mein good vrient, you go do

?

zay you must share zom mid me, but I zhall dake

Look

none.

me

at

my

blenty do leave

dake what

vill

:

am

I

old

zeventy jahrs

vomans van

'Nein.

It

have

I

I die, zo should I

do you zo much good V

But we owe everything

'

und

alt,

ist

not

zo.

to you.'

You have work

you have got your goot dimes ad vot you haf found.

I zhall

hart,

und

You keep

last.

dake noding bood die hant

of mein vrients.' '

Oh, but you ought to have a good share, Herr

Morgenstern,' cried Dyke. '

Ach

ten

You wand Tundcr

I

!

to

what

for

you go shpeak

make me

No, I

vill

gross,

und get

see,

you bube.

in a big passion.

You

dot dake von shingle shdone.

shpeak again, I go away in

you

like dot,

mein vrient

a

gross

Yoseph, I

anger.

zoon

Aha

zed die

dot

:

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

328

imbudend bube, who go

my

to shpoil

not

wand my

You

say diamont again, I gall

breakfass

breakfass.

You

shpoil.

my

I

do

oondershtan.

und inspan

poys,

nnd go away/

He

frowned, as

he meant

if

he

all

went on

said,

eating fiercely for a few moments, and then with his

month 'I

full

have blenty/ he

Now, von

blendy, doo.

You dake

done.

cried,

vort,

all

as

you

die

be

know

before

gom

die shdones

It

you pick oop

all

to vind.

got to

is

your mouth and hold

your dongue.

Wise man don't cry

He go und

he vind.

you are

Yell,

you gan pefore dey gom, und

for j'ou shoot oop

"

Look here ?

Dot

effer

vas

vind again, eh

have enshoy der bess breakfass I

!"

is

when

all,

und

haf.'

But, really, Monicenstern,'

*

'

I haf

You make mooch

beoble gom.

nopody know,

I

und pud

und

dot dere are blenty diamonts in der veldt, und

tousands und tousands ;

glad you have

leedle vort,

you gan.

and den you vind

virst

Von

am

I

a long shdocking

in,

gan

'und

Oof

the old

down

am going to man furiously.

!

I

in die

doomps.

get in soch a big passion *I

gom

vill

hair left

not led

me

do

I gif j^ou vizzick

haf any beace.

upon mein het

:

roared

here und vind you

shdrong, nnd I dell you you are ridge

you

!'

do you vant

mans

make you ;

und now

I haf not

me

all

mooch

to dear it all

'

THE CHAXGE THAT CAME. oud, zo as

go pack '

mein

but

;

Nod anodcr him

vomans

vort.

night

last 1

I

'

I

am

o'oiniij

you bube, Van Dj'ke,

Ha, ha

nod know me when

zhall

?

No, no, no

•Ah,

old

329

1

haf god

shmoke mein

3-oa laugh pecause I

You dink

!

to

I

preak

haf nod god anoder

und one made

zigs,

bibe.

of

wood

?

zo as he

— Now, mein tear vrient Yoseph Emzon, led me rest und enshoy myself. — You bube, go und gannod preak.

dell

dot plack

vomans do gook me a goot

go und shmoke mein bibe shdupid-looking

und

tinner.

I zhall

shdudy dose

long,

und you gan both gom und

pirts,

dalk do me.'

Old Morgenstern had his own way, sitting about in different parts of the

resting-places,

by

farm where there were suitable

and longest in the chasm of the granite

the water spring in the kopje. '

So

dis vas a vavoride blace of yours, eh,

he sat and smoked in the shade.

said, as '

'

Yes

;

it is

Ja, zo.

so nice,

You

and moist, and

are nod a shdupid

look here, dot vos a goot tinner:

mooch pecause

I shall

mein old vomans. bruder

bube V he

vill

cool.'

poy

at

und

I

nod ged anoder

Now

I

Bood

enshoy him

dill I

go pack to

do nod dink you and der pig

shdop ferry long at Kopfontein.

pack to Angleland/

all.

You

will

go

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

330 *

Oh

some day, of course/ said Dyke.

yes,

When you

'Ja, zo.

When you Oh no

haf vound blenty of shdones.

go pack, j-ou

nod dake dot voman?'

vill

Poor old Tanta Sal

'

!

we

;

shall be sorry to

leave her behind.'

'Den you do nod go

gom py me

to go home.

I shall

Himmel, alt

—Ah, heim

I

mein vaterland

am

I

—do

Bood you

:

I

shall bring

My

Morgenstern,

alt

vomans

doo

Tanta Sal shall

Mein

haf to vear more glothes.

she

vill

vill

nod led her go apout

alt

to

pe fery

Bood

voman

like dot.*

The next morning that plan regarding Tanta was

1

go vrom here do der great vaterland

bube

to her,

goot to her, und she shall gook tinners, und help.

future

shall

und

pack

I hope.

Oom

You

her pehind.

alt

zhall neffer go dick.

to leave

ratified, subject to

Sal's

the woman's agreement,

and Emson thought that as they would go very slowly, he might be able

to

sit

upon

his

horse,

and

ride

with old Morgenstern for a few miles on his long round.

The

old

man beamed with

satisfaction,

and Dyke mounted, and walked

their

and Emson horses,

one

on each side of the wagon-box, where the old fellow sat holding his big whip.

They went

to the first water,

where the oxen were

refreshed, a good six miles from Kopfontein,

and then

331

THE CHANGE THAT CAME. departed, the old

man

manner, ending by kissing

we meed

Dill

'

Dyke on

time, but the old

sat

I suppose

What

Emson

man

it is

the

are

Dyke

did not look back, and as :

German

custom.

minded

it

It

so

you thinking about,

seems queer

much

little

just then.'

un

? '

said

huskily.

That old Morgenstern must be a very good old man.

I wish he wouldn^t kiss me,

me '

the

watching the wagon for some

to me, but I don't think I

*

and the

said,

moved away, guided by

sat gazing, he said to himself

'

each cheek.

Kaffir boys.

Emson and Dyke

'

in patriarchal

mein sohn/ he

again,

great team of oxen slowly

two

them both

blessing

all

make

the same^ and

laup-h at his ways.' It is

him

only at his words and looks, Dyke.

We

I

neither of us smile at

The sun was

setting as they

him

God

bless

in our hearts.'

walked their horses up

toward the shabby-looking corrugated iron buildings

;

but now, in the evening light, everything seemed glorified,

and they drew rein

to look around, neither speak-

ing for some time. It '

was Dyke who broke the

You

get

silence.

are tired out and done up, Joe/ he said.

in, so

that

you can have some

and

tea, r

and

rest/

lie

'

Let

's

down

THE CHANGE THAT

332

Emson

from his

started

bright light in his

e^'es,

made Dyke's heart

CASrE.

reverie,

and

tl)ere

a smile upon his

leap with

lip,

was a which

pleasure, while, Avhen

he spoke, his words sounded almost as they did of old.

'Tired,

have to

un,'

little

heljo

me

he said, 'and so

off the

horse

stiff

hut

;

it

that you'll

is

the good,

honest weariness that makes rest one of the orreatest pleasures of

goincr to be a

He

held

Look

life.

man

here, old chap, I feel as

if

I

am

ao-ain,'

Dyke caught and

out his hand, which

gripped without a word, listening as his brother went on. '

We 've found

good, but

it

seems to

and strength. very low to

Dyke

wealth,

little

un,

and

I

suppose that

me like nothing compared

One wants

know what

he

to is

to health

have been pulled down worth.'

said nothing, but sat looking round

at the wide veldt,

is

and skies one scene

him

still

of glory, as the

sun illumined the great granite kopje, and seemed to

crown

it

with rays of gold.

'Joe, old chap/

he said at

last,

'

I used to sit over

there and sulk, and hate the hot old place and every-

thing here, but after

—I

don't think I shall like to leave

it

all.'

'The time for leaving has not come

yet, boy,' said

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

Emson

quietly.

'

We

shall

333

At present

see.

it

is

home.'

It

was three years

wagon

their

when they rode away, with

later

lightly laden

The

wished to take back.

with the curiosities they stones they

had

collected

were safely there before, sent home from time to time.

The

For old Morgenstern had prophesied correctly.

news had spread

enough, and

fast

by degrees the

country was overrun, and a busy city sprang up not

many

They saw

miles away.

not from sordid motives the night

when

the old

it

with sorrow, certainly

— for within

man

three niontlis of

visited Kopfontein,

and his brother had picked up here and there cared to seek their

— but from a liking

home on

But

as

it

for the quiet life

and

grew more and more changed, the time

farm, where, from

life,

they

all

the veldt.

seemed to draw nearer

ostriches,

Dyke

for saying

old

good-bye to the

little

they

bred

associations,

still

and with far better fortune, leading a simple

tended by Tanta Sal and a Kaffir

whom

they found

that they could trust.

At '

'

last the

Home, Yes

:

time came.

little

un

? '

said

Emson

laconically,

Old England now; said the great strapping

:

'

THE CHANGE THAT CAME.

334

fellow six feet higL don't

I

like

the

'

Everything has changed, and

people

who come always hanging

about.'

So they rode away one day, wuth Duke and the and Tanta Sal seated in

Kaffir at the head of the team,

wagon-box behind, smiling

the

happy

and

the

at

thought of the change, and giving the two young lions their cage a scrap

in.

from time

to time.

The homeward-bound pilgrims reached genstern's farm,

Vor

3-0U see

we

at the ri^ht time.

are gedding ferry old beobles now,

mein sohn/ said Morgenstern man, hart. '

—Aha

und zo yo dake

!

Yes,' said

!'

'Zo

;

'

und

as I

am

a ridge

do not like to zee mein okl vomans vork zo

I

England

to

die gubs mit

Dyke, we are going *

to try

you

?

and get them

as a present for the Zoo.'

said the old man.

Tanta Sal smiled contentedly when they rode

week

Mor-

where they were warmly welcomed,

Tanta Sal arriving just '

old

later.

She had no compunction about

while the KafSr

man was

wagon and team Mdien

to

off,

staying,

come back with the empty

the pilgrims reached the big

town, from whence travelling was easy to the Cape.

And '

as the brothers

This

is

mounted

to go,

cutting the last string,

The stalwart

'little

a

Emson

little

said

un?'

un' nodded his head gravely.

'

'

;

THE CHANGE THAT CAME. *

Yes, old chap/ he said,

past

is

'

but the Kopfontein of the

It only lives in one's

gone.

They turned

back

to look

335

memory

now.'

— their wagon slowly crawl-

ing on in front, with the patient oxen, fat and sleek,

following the black vorloper

— homeward bound; and as

they sat in their saddles they could see the old standing by the place with his hands, and

man

Dyke

are

their

almost fancied he could hear the old

young und shdrong, und you haf Mein

pefore you.

do der endt.

I

alt

mein sohns

Right,

home

I are

goming nearly

I

know you

vill.

Vonce more,

— goot-pye/

Just then

Come on

vomans und

die vorlt

do not zay dry und do goot mit vot

you dake avay, vor

*

waving

saying, as he had said at parting

'You

*

wife,

German

Duke gave

a sharp bark, as

if

to

say^

!

old

dog,'

cried

Dyke.

'

Now,

!

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;

ijricc 3s. 6d,

—

——

BOOKS FOB PRIZES AND PMESENTATION.

12

VANISHED, or the Strange Adventures of Arthur By David Kee. Illustrated by AV. Douclier.

A

Ilawkeslcigh. 2/6

David Ker's best mauner, the scene of whicli is laid in the South of England, in India, and Tibet, wlieie the author is on tale in

ground. Viscount Culverstone, the -ward of his nncle, suddenly disappears in a ^vay that arouses strong suspicion against liis guardian, John Hawkesleigh. Hoav tlie uncle searches for tlie lost youth at home and abroad, finds liim after incredible liardships, and clears his character triumphantly, is fully related in the familiar

interestinir narrative.

ADVENTURE AND ADVENTURERS; Peril,

With

and Heroism.

being True Tales of Darin 2/6

Illustrations.

These true tales of daring and heroism include stories of hunting, pioneering, and exploring?; there are two lion hunts related by Thomas Fringle some of the African adventures of F. C. Sehnis, of Captain Lugard, and the pioneers in Mashonaland and Matabele;

land.

Under mountain-climbing, the

exploits of

Edward Whymper

and W. RI. Conway are described. Otlier adventurers are Robert MacGregor of the Rob Roy canoe, Henuan Melville, George '

'

Borrow, Paul Jones, Sir AVilliam Phips, &c.

BLACK, WHITE, AND GRAY: a Story

of Three

Homes.

A

Pair of

Clogs, &c.

"VValtok, author of White LilaCy

By Amy

four Illustrations by Robert Barnes.

'Told with liow to use.

the simple charm that Miss Walton knows so well There are few more capable Avriteis for the young than

OUT OF REACH:

A

2/6

all

the authoress of this

iha Floods

handsome

a Story.

Little

By

book.'

Schoolmaster.

IL^uh Stuart, author of Thvomjh

Broicn Girlj &c.

With

four Illustrations

by Robert Barnes. *

2/6

a very good one, and the book can be recommended reading.' Standard.

Tlie story

for girls'

is

Only Eighteen. By Mrs Molesworth. With Illustrations by H. A. Bono. The book is an extremely clever one.' Daily Chron>clc.

IMOGEN,

or

'

*

A readable and W,

With

<£?

very pretty story.'

Black and White.

H. Chambers, Limited, London and Edinburgh.

four

2/6

J

From Vanished, by DacUl Kcr ;

price

Ss. Gd.

—

—

——

—

—

——

BOOKS FOR PRIZES AND PRESENTATION,

14

Lomhardy. By Henry Frith, author of Tlie Crake of the Wasp^ The Log With four Illustrations by W. Bomhastesj' &c. of the

THE LOST TRADER,

the

of

jNIystery

the

or

*

^

Boucher.

*An hoys. *

2/6

excellent 8tory by one of the best Avritere of sea-stories for

Standard.

'

Mr

good sea-stories, and Academy.

Frith' writes

we have

read.'

THE NEXT-DOOR HOUSE. By Mrs Illustrations by W. Ilatherell.

this is the best of tliem tliat

With

Moleswoutii.

six

2/6

a children's story, ahoiit cliildren and for chihlren, and will be welcome in many nursery libraries.' Glasgow Herald. *

This

*

I

is

venture to predict for

by the inimitable

Ca^Tots.*

COSSACK AND CZAR,

it

as loving a ^velcome as that received

—Manchester Courier.

By David Ker,

The W^IM Horseman of Illustrations by W. S, Stacey.

VI Bftkharaj original

*A good dramatic

author of The the

Boy

Pampas^ &c.

Slave Witli 2/6

style, boJ*! incidents,

and

idealistic

charaeteis,

stamp the book as one of tlie best of its kind.' Publishers' Circular. Tliere is not an uninteresting and scarcely a careless line in it.' '

Sj)ectato7:

own

personal knowledge of Cossack life in the Steppes, and so brisk a tJieme as the struggle between l*eterand CIi«irles XII. *

AVith his

Sweden, no wonder that

of

THROUGH THE FLOOD, By

Esiii: *

Stuart.

A bright

Mr

two

girls,

and

2/6

sliows

how goodness

strifes. '^T^r/c^rf/^/

By

INIrs

ForiutieSy

&c.

YOUNG,

and Jerry, Phoebe's by H. A. Bone. vei-y

Graphic.

exciting.'

the Story of an Out-of-the-Way Place.

beauty in a face can heal old

*A

is

AVith Illustrations.

stoi-y of

WHEN WE WERE

Kei's volume

rattier

than

Leaves.

O'Reilly, author of Joaif

With

four

Illustrations 2/6

interesting story suitable for either boys or

girls.'

Standard. *

A delightfully natural

and attractive

story.'

Journal of Educa-

tion.

]V. d' I£.

ChamhcrSj Limited^ London and Edinburgh.

From The Lost Tradeh,

h>/

JTcnry Frith

;

2yricc 2s. Gd.

——

—

—

— ——

—

BOOKS FOB PRIZES AND PRESENTATION,

16

ROSE AND LAVENDER. TJy the author of Laddie, Miss Tooseijs Missiorij ko,. With four original Illustrations by Ilerbei't A. Bone.

2/6

*This book teaches luoie tlian one valuable lesson, and we can thorongijly recomnieiul it as a suitable present for yonx)
—

*A

brightly -written tale, the characters in wljicl], taken from Immble life, are sketched with life-like naturalness.' Blanchestcr

Examiner.

BASIL WOOLLCOMBE, MIDSHIPMAN. By Arthur Lee Knight, AVith Frontisauthor of The Adcentures of a Midshipmite^ kc. by

piece

*A

"VV. S.

Stacey,

and other

Illustrations.

2/6

Adventures both by sea and land does the Basil is a youthful hero encounter, and hardship and peril. Dundee fine, manly fellow, and Ids character is well portrayed.' delightful book.

,

.

.

Advertiser.

JOAN AND JERRY. &c. *

*

By Mrs

O'Reilly, author of Sussex Stories,

With four orij^'iiial Illustrations by Herbert A. Bone. 2/6 An unusually satisfactory story for gu'ls.' Manchester Guardian. Written witli all the cliarm M'iiicli so many of this lady's works

possess.

Daily Chronicle.

'

'There Jerry.

is

a deal of brightness and sprighthness in Joan and

Times.

'

'Mrs O'Reilly always

A fine t^ste

keeps her from exaggeration in the drawing of character, and she can interest We can her readers without sUiiling incidents or surprises. veconmiend Joan and Jerry highly.' Spectator. tells

hev stories well.

.

THE YOUNG RANCHMEN, By by W.

West. tions

*A

or

Perils of

Cilvrles R. Kenyon. S. Stacey,

and other

.

.

Pioneering in the Wild

With

four original Illustra-

Illustrations.

2/6

stirring story of prairie life, with plenty of buffalo-lmnting,

ailventures

with Indians, and other stirring incidents.'

Glasgow

Herald. Calculated to afl'ord boundless delight to boy readers, brimful as it Girls, too, will find it most interestis of excitement and adventure. ing, for Connie and her Iiandsome lover are outstanding (igures.' *

Dundee

Adrerfiscr.

W.

t£-

R. Chambers, Limited, Loudon

and Edinburgh.

From Through Stoioi and Stress,

hy J,

S.

Fletcher

;

price 2s,

— ——

—

—

BOOKS FOB PRIZES ANT) PRESENTATION.

18

MEMOIR OF WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

With Auto-

Reminiscences of William Chambers, and Supple-

biographic

With

14th edition.

mental Chapter.

Portraits

and

Illustra-

2/6

tions.

'What would

be the story of popular education in this island

William and Rohert Chambers, and of all tliat they did, couhl be cut out? ... As a matter of feociiLl history the book is indispensable for \y1io can be said to jtossoss a knowledge of the England and the Scotland of the ninereenth century who is not fauuliar with the story of the brothers Cliambers?'

names

the

if

of

;

School

Board

Chronicle.

POPULAR RHYMES OF SCOTLAND.

A

By Robert Chambers.

collection of the traditionary verse of Scotland, in

2/6

which the

author has gathered together a multitude of rhymes an
to places, families, natural objects,

games, &c., wherewith the cottage gone past.

TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH. Edition.

fireside

was amused

By Robert Chambers.

AVith Illustrations.

The work

in

days

Ncau 2/6

known

need any description iiere. It is an accepted storehouse of the legendary history of this city. The new e((ition is well printed, handy in form, cheap in price, and will doubtless be widely sought for.' Scotsman. '

is

too well

to

HISTORY OF THE REBELLION OF

New

1745-6.

By Robert Chambers.

Edition, with Index and Illustrations.

'A book which romance or love

will

delight all

of adventure.'

young

New

York

2/6

folks witli

any

vein of

Critic.

There is not to be found anywhere a better account of '45 than that given here. Nexccastle Chronicle. '

of the events

'

GOOD AND GREAT WOMEN

:

a

Book

for Girls.

Comprises brief

Queen Victoria, Florenxie Kightingale, Baroness BurdettCoutts, Mrs Beecher-Stowe, Jenny Lind, Charlotte Bronte, Mrs Hemans, Dorothy Pattison. iS^'umerous Illustmtions. 2/6

lives of

*A

brightly >^ritten volume, full to the brim of interesting and

instructive matter;

equally suitable.' jy.

it'

and either as

reader, reward,

oi-

library' book, is

Tcachem' Aid.

R. Chambers, Limited, London and Edinburgh.

from Five

Victi.mSj hy

M. Bramston; price Ss,

—

—

iiOOKS FOR VniZES ANi) PUESEXTATtO^.

20

LIVES OF LEADING NATURALISTS.

By

II.

Alleyne Nichol-

son, Professor of Natural History in the University of Aberdeen. Illustrated. *

2/6

Popular ami interesting by

tlie

manner in wliicli notices from John Kay and Francis

skilful

of tlie lives of distinguished naturalists,

interwoven with the methodical exposition of the progress of the science to which they are devoted.' Scotsman. "\Villoughl)\^ to Cliarles Dar«-iii, are

—

BENEFICENT AND USEFUL LIVES.

Comprising Lord

Sl.aflcs-

bury, George Peabody, Andre^v Carnegie, Walter Besant, Samuel

Morlcy, Sir James Y. Simpson,

Numerous

R. Cochrane.

Dr Arnold

Rugby, &c.

of

Illustrations.

By 2/6

Highly interesting and exceedingly attractive. It is a really good book in every particular, and deserves to be widely used as a *

YQwa^rd.'— Teachers' Aid. '

Nothing could be better than the author's

selection

setting forth the beneiicent lives of those genei'ons

narrow compass which the capacity

Board

of the

volume

men

allows.'

of

in

facts

the

School

Chronicle.

GREAT THINKERS AND WORKERS;

being the Lives of Thomas

Lord Armstrong, Lord Tennyson, Charles Dickens, Sir Titus Salt, AV. M. Thackeray, Sir Henry Bessemer, John Raskin, James Nasmytli, Charles Kingsley, Buildei's of the Forth 2/6 Bridge, &c. With numerous Illustrations. Carlyle,

One of the most fitting presents come across.'—^ctv'cit' of Eevicics. '

for a thonghtful

boy that we have

'The volume is worthy ©f a place in every boy's Hljrary in the kingdom, and has our warmest conunendation.'—P/Tfc/Ztr;/ Teacher. Within the limits assigned to them, his sketches could scarcely he improved ui)on. The striking features of each career are ably hronght out, and indeed nothing seems to have been omitted that could lielp to give a good general idea of the character and life-work of these thinkers and workers.' Glasgow Herald. '

GREAT HISTORIC EVENTS.

Tlie

Conquest of India,

French Revolution, the Crusades, tlie Conquest of Illustrated. 2/6 Mexico, Xapoleon's Russian Campaign.

^Mutiny, .

Indian

W.

d: 11.

ChmnhcrSy Limited, London and Edinburgh.

From Elizadetii,

bij

Henley

I.

Arden;

pi-icc 3s.

—— BOOKS FOR PRIZES AND PRESENTATION.

22

RECENT TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE.

Comprising Stanley and the Congo, Lieutenant Greely, Joseph Thomson, Livingstone, Lady Brassey, Vambery, Lurton, &c. Illustrated. Cloth. 2/6 wonderful liow much that is of absorbing interest Scotsnmn. packed into this small volume. '

It is

lias

been

'

'

The narratives are clearly and

'

A

fii-st-rate

book

— Teachers' Aid.

SONGS OF SCOTLAND

for

tersely written, '—School Newspapa'.

a reward

— indeed,

we know

of

none

better.'

prior to Burns, with the Tunes, edited by

Egbert Chambers, LL.D.

"With Illustrations.

2/6

This volume embodies the whole of the pre-Burnsian songs of Scotland that possess merit and are presentable, along with the mu-sic ; each accompanied by its own history.

LITERARY CELEBRITIES.

2/6

Being brief biographies of Wordsworth, Campbell, Moore, and Macaulay. Illustrated.

HISTORICAL CELEBRITIES. well,

Comprising

lives

of Oliver

Jeffrey,

Crom-

Washington, Napoleon Bonaparte, Duke of Wellington.

Illustrated.

2/6

*The story important

of their life-work is told in such a ^vay as to teach

historical, as well as pei*sonal, lessons bearing

political liistory of this country.'

upon the

Schoolmaster.

STORIES OF REMARKABLE PERSONS.

The

Marv By William

llerscliels,

Somerville, Sir Walter Scott, A. T. Stewart, &c.

Chambers, LL.D.

2/6

Embraces about two dozen Hves, and the biographical sketches are freely intei-spersed with anecdotes, so as to make it popular and stimulating reading for both young and old.

YOUTH'S COMPANION AND COUNSELLOR. bers,

By William Cham-

LL.D.

2/6

This is a new and enlarged edition of the first issue of 1857, which met with a gratifying degree of approval. The book off'ei'S friendly counsel to the young on everyday matters which concem their welfare the hints, advices, and suggestions therein oflfered being the result of observation and experience drawn from the long and busy ;

life of

the writer.

W.

d:

R. Chambers, Limited, London and Edinburgh.

From

l5EGUMiiACiU, hy George JSIancdle Fenri

;

price U, 6U.

—

—

BOOKS FOR PRIZES AND PRESENTATION.

:24

TALES FOR TRAVELLERS.

Selected from ClianiLcre's Papers for

2 volumes.

the People,

2/6

Containing twelve tales by tlie author of John Htdifax^ Gentleman^ George Cupples, and other well-known writers.

STORIES OF OLD FAMILIES.

Ey W. Chambers, LL.D.

2/6

— Lady Grisell Baillie— Grisell Coclnane — the Keiths— Lady Grange — Lady Jane Douglas— Story of Wedderburn — Story of Erskinc — Countess The Setons — Lailv Jean Gordon

— Countess

Eglintoim— Lady Forbes— tlie Dalrymples Family Argyll Family, &c. of

—

Price GREAT WARRIORS HEROIC LIVES

;

;

of

Nithsthilc

—JMontrose—DuccleucJi

2s-

>7eIson, Wellington, IS^apoleon.

Livingstone,

General

Stanley,

Gordon,

Dundonald.

2/

Lord 2/

THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF WALTER TRELAWNEY. Parish 'Prentice of Plymouth, in the year of the (h-eat Armada. Ke-told by J. S. Fletchek, autljor of Throiiyh Storm and Stress,

With

&c.

'A

Frontispiece by

W.

Stacey.

8.

2/

first-rate story. '—/>rt//y Chronicle,

A

wonderfully vivid story of the year of the Gieat Arjnada j far more elfective than the unwholesome trash which so often does duty for boys' books nowadays.* Idler. *

THROUGH STORM AND STRESS. Frontispiece by W. S. Stacey.

Ey

*Full of excitement and incident.'

FIVE VICTIMS a School-room Story. of Boijs and GlrlSj Uncle Iran, &c. :

J.

Fletcher.

S.

2/

Diauhe

By

Advertiser.

TiL

AVitli

Lramston, author F'rontispiece by H.

A. Bone. '

A

2/

delightful

book

simple story extremely IV.

AYitli

it'

for children. ^>'cll.'

Miss Bramston has told her

— Associates' Jonrnah

R. Chambers, Limitedj London

and Edinburgh.

From

Till-:

LrnxK Knk;ht,

hij Eifitli C.

Koiyon

;

pHce U.

—

——

—

BOOKS FOR PRIZES AND PRESENTATION.

26

SOME BRAVE BOYS AND GIRLS. of

The *

A

girls.

By Edith

Little Knight, Wilfrid Clifford, &c. capital

book

2/

will be read with delight

:

by both boys and

Manchester Examiner,

'

ELIZABETH,

Cloud and Sunshine. autlior of Leather Mill Farm, Aunt picce by Herbert A. Bone.

'A

Kenyon, author

C.

or

By Henlry I. Arden, With ProiitisBell, &c. 2/

brave, rustic heroine, capitally' sketched by H.

I.

Arden.'^

Graphic. *

This

book or *

is

a charming story, and in every way suitable as a

prize for girls.'

An attractive

little

to its haj>py ending.

Schoolmaster. story which carries the reader clieerfully along

Pall Mall Gazette.

'

HEROES OF ROMANTIC ADVENTURE, of

gift-

being Biographical Sketches

Lord Clive, founder of British supremacy

in India; Captain

John Smith, founder of the colony of Virginia; the Good Knight Bayard and Garibaldi, the Italian patriot. Illustrated. 2/ ;

OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS—the

Dog,

Cat,

Horse,

and Elephant.

AVith numerous Illustrations.

A popular account,

2/

freely interspei-sed with anecdotes

showing the

personal attachment, fidelity, and sagacity of the diig ; the afl'ectioii, courage, and memory of the cat ; the courage, revenge, and docility of the horse ; and the various characteristics of the elephant,

including the famous Jumbo.

FAMOUS MEN.

Illustrated.

2/

Comprising Biographical Sketches of Lord Dundonald, George Stei)henRon, Lord Nelson, Louis Napoleon, Captain Cook, George

Walter Scott, Peter the Great, Christopher Columbus, John Howard, William Hutton, William Penn, James Watt, Alexander Selkirk, Sir William Jones, Br Leyden, Br Murray, Alexander Wilson, J. F. Oberlin. \Va.shington,

Sir

LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. *

A fine example of attractive

Illustrated.

2/

biographical writing, and the dogged

perseverance, untiring energy, and ultimate success of the hero are found to leave an influence for good on the mind of tlie joiithful reader. A short address, " The Way to Wealth," should be read by

every young

W.

it'

man

in

the kingdom.'

TcacMcrs' Aid.

R. Chambers, Limited, London and Edinburgh.

From The Bewitched Lamp, hy Mrs

Moleswortli ; pi-ice

Is.

— BOOKS FOR FRIZES AND FRESKNTATION.

28

EMINENT WOMEN, and The

Tales for Girls.

Illustrated.

2/

Joan of Arc, Flora Maedoiiald, Helen Gray, Mailame lloland, and others; wliile the stories, which are njainly of a doniesiic character, einhrace such favourites as Passion and Principle, Love is Power, Three Ways of Livin^j, Annals of the Poor, Sister of Kenibrandt, an*! othei^s equall}' entertaining and good.'— 7'e«cAcrs' Aid, *

lives iiiclude those of (Jrace Darling,

TALES FROM CHAMBERS*S JOURNAL.

4 vols, each

2/

Comprise interesting short stories by James Payn, Hugh Conway, D, Christie Murray, Walter Tliornhuiy, G. Manville Fenn, Dutton Cook, J. B. Harwood, and other popular writers.

BIOGRAPHY. EXEMPLARY AND INSTRUCTIVE.

Edited by

Chambers, LL.D.

2/

Tlie Editor gives in this

who, while exemplary of their species by the

By

AILIE GILROY. '

The

life

esteemed

volume a selection

still

"W.

more exemplary

of biographies of those

became

in their private lives,

eflbi'ts

tlie

l>enefactois

of their intellect.

Chambers, LL.D.

of a poor Scotch lassie

for its

W.

2/

... a book

goodness as well as for

its

that will be highly

attractiveness.'

l^cta-ftcm'

A id. ESSAYS, FAMILIAR LL.D. 2 vols. Comprises some

AND HUMOROUS.

By

P.obe^it

Chambers, 2/

the finest essays, tales, and social sketches of the autiior of Traditions of Edinbifrgk, reprinted from C/Ktmbers's of

Journal.

MARITIME DISCOVERY AND ADVENTURE.

Illustrated.

2/

Falconer— North-east Passage — South Sea Marauders— Alexander Selkirk— Crossing the LineGenuine Crusoes — Castaway Scene with a Pirate, 6cc.

Columbus

— Balboa — Kichard —

SHIPWRECKS AND TALES OF THE 'A

collection of narratives of

talcs of the sea.

.

.

.

The

SEA.

Illustrated.

many famous

2/

shipwrecks, with other

tales of fortitude under dillicnlties,

and

times of extreme peril, as well as tlie reoords of adherence to duty, contained in this volume, cannot but be of service.'— in

FiVfctifol 'Jhc'/icr.

}V.

tL-

R.

C/t((mbcr.s,

Limited, Lottdun (tnd Edinbtinjh

T^F

i

i

^/o?yt

The Gkken Casket,

&c., &y

3Ifi>

Molcawortli; price

Is*

— —

—

BOOKS FOR PRIZES AND PUESENTATION.

so

SKETCHES, LIGHT AND DESCRIPTIVE.

A

By W.

Chamleiis,

LLD. 2/

selection from contributions to C/iambers^s Journal^ ranging

over a periotl of thirty years.

MISCELLANY OF INSTRUCTIVE AND ENTERTAINING TRACTS.

2/

These Tracts comprise Tales, Poetiy, Balla
d.

20 10 Vols, cloth 20 10 Vols, clotli, gilt edges 25

20 Vols, cloth

Price

d.

s.

45

10 Vols, half-calf

Nos Which may be had

each

160

1

separately.

6d.

Is.

AVilh Illustrations.

RAILWAYS AND RAILWAY MEN. *

A readable and

*

As

1/6

entertaining book.'

Manchester Guardian,

Glasgow Herald.

reliable as it is interesting.'-

'In a clear, readable, and interesting style, we are told in brief space all that the intelligent general reader need care to know

about the functional duties of each

official

on the railway,'

Aberdeen

Free Press.

SKETCHES OF ANIMAL LIFE AND HABITS.

By

Andrew

AViLSON, Ph.D., &c.

1/6

A

popular natural histoiy text-book, and a guide to tlie use of the observing powers. Compiled with a view of affording the young anil the general reader trustworthy ideas of the animal world.

EXPERIENCES OF A BARRISTER.

1/6

Eleven tales embracing experiences of a barrister and attorney.

BEGUMBAGH,

a Tale of the Tiulian Mutiny.

A thrilling tale

1/6

by George Manville Fenn,

THE BUFFALO HUNTERS, and

1/6

TALES OF THE COASTGUARD, and

1/6

other Tales. Fourteen short stories reprinted from Chamhcrs's Journal. other Stories. Fifteen interesting stories from Chambers's Journal.

W.

cfc

R. Chambers, Limited^ London and Edinburgh.

— BOOKS FOR PEtZKS AND PRESENTATION. THE CONSCRIPT,

3l

and other Tales.

1/6

TweJ)ty-t\vo short stories specially adapted

for

perusal by

tlie

younj(.

THE DETECTIVE OFFICER, by 'Waters;' and Nine entertaining detective

FIRESIDE TALES

other Tales.

1/6

with three others.

stories,

AND SKETCHES.

1/6

Contains eighteen tales and sketches hy R. Chambers, LL. D. others by P. B. Sfc Jolm, A. M. Sargeanfc, &e.

THE GOLD-SEEKERS, and

other Tales.

,

and

1/6

Seventeen interesting tales from Chambers''s Journal.

THE HOPE OF LEASCOMBE, and The

other Stoiics.

principal tale inculcates the

everything our

lesson that

own way, and that

1/6

we cannot have

passion and impulse are not

reliable counselloi-s.

THE ITALIAN'S CHILD, and

other Tales.

\l%

Fifteen short stories from Chambers's Journal.

JURY-ROOM TALES.

1/6

Entertaining stories by James Payii, G. M. Fenii, and

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. by means

Ey W,

olhei's.

Cham}3Eks, LL.D.

a series

1/6

the intelligence, gentleness, and docility of the brute creation. It proves abundantly Tlie that kindness will obtain more fiom animals than cj'iielty. anecdotes are striking, and in many cases novel, and the book may be warndy commended.' Sunday Times. *

Illustrates,

of

THE MIDNIGHT JOURNEY.

of anecdotes,

By Leitch

Kitchie;

and other

Tales.

1/6

Sixteen

sliort stories fi-om Chcnnhcrs's

Journal.

OLDEN STORIES.

1/6

Sixteen short stories from Chambers's Journal.

THE RIVAL CLERKS, and The

fn-st

tale sliows hoAV dishonesty

and virtue triumphs

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

A

other Tales.

1/6

and roguery are punished,

in tiie end.

By Daniel Defoe.

il^

liaiuly edition, profusely illustrated.

W*

ifc

R. Chambers^ Limitedt London

and Edinburgh.

BOOKS

32

Poll

AND

PHIZES

PltESENfAriON.

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