Page 9 of Hunting the Lions


  CHAPTER NINE.

  THE LAST.

  From this period everything like good fortune seemed to forsake thehunters. The trader's wound became so painful that he resolved toreturn to the settlements, and accordingly their faces were turnedsouthward.

  But the way was toilsome, the heat intense, and the water scarce--moreso than it had been on the outward journey. To add to their troubles,fever and ague attacked most of the white men, and one of them (Ogilvie)died on the journey.

  At last Tom Brown, who had up to that time been one of the strongest ofthe party, broke down, and it was found to be necessary to leave himbehind at a native village, for it would have been certain death to theothers to have remained with him, and their doing so could have done himno good.

  "I cannot tell you, Tom," said the major, as he sat beside his friend'scouch the night before they parted, "how deeply it grieves me to leaveyou in this way, but you see, my dear fellow, that the case isdesperate. You are incapable of moving. If we remain here the most ofus will die, for I find that it is all I can do to drag one leg afterthe other, and I have grave doubts as to whether I shall ever get out ofthis rascally country alive. As to poor Bob Wilkins, he is in a worsecondition than myself. Now, our intention is to leave you all thephysic, push on as fast as possible to the nearest settlement, where weshall get more for ourselves, and send out a party of natives under sometrustworthy trader to fetch you out of the country."

  "You are very kind, major," said Tom languidly, "but I cannot allow youto leave me all the physic. Your own life may depend on having some ofit, and--"

  "There, don't exhaust yourself, Tom, with objections, for Bob and I havemade up our minds to do it. The very fact that every day we are gettingnearer the habitable parts of the world will keep our spirits up andgive us strength, and you may depend upon it, my poor fellow, that wewon't waste time in sending help to you."

  The major's voice trembled a little, for he had become very weak, andhad secret misgivings that he would never see his friend again.

  "We are going to leave Mafuta with you," he added quickly.

  "That's right," exclaimed Tom, with an expression of satisfaction. "Ifany one is able to pull me through this bout, Mafuta is the man. By theway, major, will you do me the favour to open my portmanteau and fetchme the Bible you will find there. I mean to read it. Do you know Ihave been thinking that we are great fools to keep calling ourselvesChristians when we have scarcely any of the signs of Christianity aboutus, and particularly in putting off the consideration of our souls'interests to a time like this?"

  "Upon my word, Tom, I agree with you," said the major.

  "Well, then," said Tom, "like a good fellow, get the Bible for me, andlet me advise you as a friend to make use of the one the missionary gaveyou. I mean to turn over a new leaf. My only fear is that if I getwell I shall become as indifferent as I was before."

  "No fear of that, Tom, you are much too honest-hearted to be sochangeable."

  "H'm, I don't know," said Tom, with an attempt at a smile; "I should notbe easy if my salvation depended on the honesty of my heart. I ratherfear, major, that your method of comforting me is not what themissionary would call orthodox. But good night, old fellow; I feeltired, and find it wonderfully difficult not only to speak but to think,so I'll try to sleep."

  Saying this our hero turned on his side and soon fell into a quietslumber, out of which he did not awake until late the following morning.

  The major, meanwhile, sought for and found the Bible in his portmanteau,and laid it on his pillow, so that he might find it there on awaking.For a long time he and Wilkins sat by the sick man's side next morning,in the hope of his awaking, that they might bid him good-bye; but Tomdid not rouse up, so, being unwilling to disturb him, they left withouthaving the sad satisfaction of saying farewell.

  When Tom Brown awoke, late in the day, he found Mafuta sitting at hisfeet with a broad grin on his dusky countenance.

  "What are you laughing at, you rascal?" demanded Tom, somewhat sternly.

  "Me laffin' at you's face!"

  "Indeed, is it then so ridiculous?"

  "Yis, oh yis, you's bery ri'clous. Jist no thicker dan de edge obhatchet."

  Tom smiled. "Well, I'm not fat, that's certain; but I feel refreshed.D'you know, Mafuta, I think I shall get well after all."

  "Ho, yis," said Mafuta, with a grin, nodding his woolly head violently,and displaying a magnificent double row of teeth; "you's git well; youhad slep an' swet mos' bootiful. Me wish de major see you now."

  "The major; is he gone?"

  "Yis, hoed off dis morrownin."

  "And Mr Wilkins?"

  "Hoed off too."

  Tom Brown opened his eyes and stared silently for a few minutes at hiscompanion.

  "Then we are all alone, you and I," he said suddenly.

  "Yis, all alone, sept de two tousand Caffres ob de kraal; but dey isnobody--only black beasts."

  Tom laughed to hear his attendant talk so scornfully of his countrymen,and Mafuta laughed to see his master in such good spirits; after whichthe former became grave, and, feeling a slight twinge of hunger, made asudden demand for food. Mafuta rose and left the tent, and Tom, turningon his side, observed the Bible lying on the pillow. He opened it, butforgot to read, in consequence of his attention being arrested by theextreme thinness of his hands. Recovering himself, he turned to thetwenty-first psalm, but had only read the first verse when the bookdropt from his fingers, and he again fell sound asleep.

  This was the turning-point in his illness. He began to mend a little,but so slowly, that he almost lost heart once or twice; and feltconvinced that if he did not make an attempt to get out of the unhealthyregion, he should never regain strength.

  Acting on this belief, he left the native village on foot, carryingnothing but his rifle, which seemed to him, in his weak condition, to beas heavy as a small cannon. Mafuta went on in advance, heavily ladenwith the blankets, a small tent, provisions, ammunition, etcetera,necessary for the journey.

  At first Tom could scarcely walk a mile without sitting down severaltimes to rest, on which occasions Mafuta endeavoured to cheer him up bythreatening to leave him to his fate! This was a somewhat singular modeof stimulating, but he deemed it the wisest course, and acted on it.When Tom lay down under the shade of a tree, thoroughly knocked up, theCaffre would bid him farewell and go away; but in a short time he wouldreturn and urge him to make another attempt!

  Thus Tom Brown travelled, day after day, under the broiling sun. Duringthat period--which he afterwards described as the most dreadful of hislife--fever and ague reduced him to a state of excessive weakness. Infact it was a battle between the dire disease and that powerfulconstitution for which the Brown family is celebrated. For aconsiderable time it appeared very doubtful how the battle would end.

  One morning Tom was awakened by his faithful attendant to resume hisweary journey. He got up with a heavy sigh, and almost fell down againfrom weakness.

  "I think, Mafuta," said Tom gravely, "that I'm pretty nearly used up.You'll have to leave me, I fear, and make the best of your way out ofthis wretched country alone."

  "Dis a fuss-rate kontry," said the Caffre quietly.

  "Ah, true, Mafuta, I forgot for a moment that it is your native land.However, I am bound to admit that it is a first-rate country for sport--also for killing Englishmen. I don't feel able to move a step."

  Tom sat down as he said this, and, uttering a sort of groan, leaned hisback against a tree.

  "W'at, yous no' go fadder?"

  "No," said Tom, with some asperity, for he felt too much exhausted tospeak.

  "Berry good, me say good-bye."

  Mafuta nodded his head as he spoke, and, gravely shouldering his load,marched away.

  Tom looked after him with a melancholy smile; for he quite understoodthe _ruse_ by this time, and knew that he would return, although thesimple native sincerely believed that his motives and intentions hadbeen concealed with
deep wisdom. Tom was not sorry to get a respite,and threw himself flat down, in order to make the most of it, but Mafutawas more anxious than usual about his companion that morning. Hereturned in ten minutes or so, having sat for that period behind aneighbouring tree to brood over his circumstances.

  "Yous come on _now_, eh?" he said gently, regarding Tom with an anxiousexpression of countenance.

  "Well, well," replied our hero, getting up with a sort of desperateenergy, "let's push on; I can at all events walk till my legs refuse tocarry me, and then it will not be I who shall have given in, but thelegs!--eh, Mafuta?"

  Smiling languidly at this conceit, Tom walked on, almost mechanically,for nearly twenty miles that day, with scarcely any shelter from thesun.

  At night he reached a native village, the chief of which consideratelylet him rest in an old hut. When Tom flung himself down in a corner ofthis, he felt so ill that he called his servant and bade him fetch thepackage which contained his slender stock of medicine.

  "Open it, Mafuta, and let's see what we have left. I'm resolved to makesome change in myself for better or worse, if I should have to eat upthe whole affair. Better be poisoned at once than die by inches in thisway."

  "No more kineen," said the Caffre, as he kneeled by his master's side,turning over the papers and bottles.

  "No more quinine," repeated Tom sadly; "no more life, that means."

  "Not'ing more bot tree imuttics, an' small drop ludnum," said Mafuta.

  "Three emetics," said Tom, "and some laudanum; come, I'll try these.Mix the whole of 'em in a can, and be quick, like a good fellow; I'llhave one good jorum whatever happens."

  "Bot yous vil bost," said Mafuta remonstratively.

  "No fear. Do as I bid you."

  The Caffre obeyed, and Tom swallowed the potion. The result, however,was unsatisfactory, for, contrary to what was anticipated, they producedno effect whatever. To make matters worse, the hut in which they laywas overrun with rats, which were not only sleepless and active, butdaring, for they kept galloping round the floor all night, and chasingone another over Tom's body and face. After a time he became desperate.

  "Here, Mafuta," he cried, "strike a light, and get me a long feather ofsome sort out of a bird's wings."

  The wondering native got up and did as he was commanded.

  "Now, Mafuta, shove the feather down my throat. Don't be afraid. I'llgive you a dig in the ribs if you go too far."

  The result of this operation was speedy and complete. The sick man wasrelieved. In a short time he fell into a deep sleep, which lasted forseveral hours. After this he awoke much refreshed, and having obtainedsome rice from the native chief, ate a little with relish.

  Next day they resumed their journey, and travelled till four in theafternoon, when the fit of ague prostrated Tom for a couple of hours, asit had been in the habit of doing regularly at the same hour for sometime past, leaving him in a very exhausted state of body, and muchdepressed in spirits.

  In the course of a week, however, this extreme depression passed away,and he managed to get along; painfully, it is true, but creditably.They were fortunate enough, soon after, to meet with a trader, from whomour hero purchased two stout horses, and thenceforward the journeybecame more agreeable--at least Tom's returning strength enabled him toenjoy it; for it could not be said that the fatigues or privations ofthe way had decreased; on the contrary, in some respects they hadincreased considerably.

  One day, while Tom was ambling along the margin of a belt of thick wood,with his sable guide riding in advance, he came suddenly in sight of aherd of giraffes. He had been short of fresh meat for a couple of days,because, although there was no lack of game, his arm had not becomesufficiently steady to enable him to take a good aim; and, beingunwilling to resign the office of hunter to his attendant until reducedto the last extremity, he had taken all the chances that occurred, andhad missed on every occasion!

  Being determined not to miss _this_ opportunity, he at once put spurs tohis steed, and dashed after the giraffes at a breakneck pace. Theground was very rocky, uneven, and full of holes and scrubby bushes.The long-necked creatures at once set off at a pace which tried Tom'ssteed, although a good one, to the utmost. There was a thick forest ofmakolani trees about a mile away to the left, towards which the giraffesheaded, evidently with the intention of taking refuge there. Tomobserved this, and made a detour in order to get between them and thewood. This made it necessary to put on a spurt to regain lost distance,but on such ground the speed was dangerous. He neared one of theanimals, however, and was standing up in his stirrups, intent on takinga flying shot, when his horse suddenly put his foot in a hole, and fellso violently that he rolled heels over head several times like a hareshot in full career. Fortunately his rider was sent out of the saddlelike a rocket, and fell a considerable distance ahead, and out of theway of the rolling horse. A friendly bush received him and saved hisneck, but tore his coat to tatters. Jumping up, he presented at thegiraffe, which was galloping off about two hundred yards ahead. In thefall the barrel of his rifle had been so covered with dead leaves anddust that he could not take aim. Hastily wiping it with his sleeve, hepresented again and fired. The ball hit the giraffe on the hip, but itfailed to bring him down. A second shot, however, broke his leg, andthe stately animal rolled over. Before Tom reached him he was dead.

  Thus the travellers were supplied with a sufficiency of meat for somedays, and they pushed steadily forward without paying attention to thegame, which happened to be very plentiful in that district, as theirgreat desire was to get out of the unhealthy region as quickly aspossible. Sometimes, however, they were compelled to shoot inself-defence.

  Upon one occasion, while Mafuta was looking for water in the bush, hewas charged by a black rhinoceros, and had a very narrow escape. TomBrown was within sight of him at the time, engaged also in looking forwater. He heard the crash of bushes when the monster charged, andlooking hastily round, saw Mafuta make a quick motion as if he meant torun to a neighbouring tree, but the rhinoceros was so close on him thatthere was no time.

  "Quick, man!" shouted Tom, in an agony of alarm as he ran to the rescue,for the Caffre had no gun.

  But Mafuta, instead of taking this advice, suddenly stood stock still,as if he had been petrified!

  Tom threw forward his rifle, intending, in desperation, to try theeffect of a long shot, although certain that it was impossible to killthe rhinoceros even if he should hit, while the risk of killing hisfaithful servant was very great. Before he had time to fire, however,the animal ran past the motionless Caffre without doing him any injury!

  Whether it is owing to the smallness of its eyes, or to the horns on itsnose being in the way, we cannot tell, but it is a fact that the blackrhinoceros does not see well, and Mafuta, aware of this defect, hadtaken advantage of it in a way what is sometimes practised by bold men.Had he continued to run he would certainly have been overtaken andkilled; but, standing perfectly still, he was no doubt taken for a treestump by the animal. At all events it brushed past him, and Mafuta,doubling on his track, ran to a tree, up which he vaulted like a monkey.

  Meanwhile Tom Brown got within range, and sent a ball crashing againstthe animal's hard sides without doing it any injury. The second barrelwas discharged with no better result, except that a splinter of its hornwas knocked off. Before he could reload, the rhinoceros was gone, andTom had to content himself with carrying off the splinter as a memorialof the adventure.

  That night the travellers made their encampment at the foot of a tree,on the lower branches of which they hung up a quantity of meat. Tom layin a small tent which he carried with him, but Mafuta preferred to sleepby the fire outside.

  During the day they had seen and heard several lions. It was thereforedeemed advisable to picket the horses close to the tent, between it andthe fire.

  "Mafuta," said Tom Brown, as he lay contemplating the fire on which theCaffre had just heaped fresh logs, "give me some more tea, and cookanother gi
raffe steak. D'you know I feel my appetite coming back withgreat force?"

  "Dat am good," said Mafuta.

  "Yes, that is undoubtedly good," said Tom. "I never knew what it was tohave a poor appetite until I came to this wonderful land of yours, and Iassure you that I will not pay it another visit in a hurry--although,upon the whole, I'm very well pleased to have hunted in it."

  "W'at for you come because of?" asked Mafuta.

  "Well, I came for fun, as the little boys in my country say. I came forchange, for variety, for amusement, for relaxation, for sport. Do youunderstand any of these expressions?"

  "Me not onderstan' moch," answered Mafuta with great simplicity ofmanner; "bot why you want for change? Me nivir wants no change?"

  "Ah, Mafuta," replied Tom with a smile, "you're a happy man? The factis, that we civilised people lead artificial lives, to a large extent,and, therefore, require a change sometimes to recruit our energies--thatis, to put us right again, whereas you and your friends live in anatural way, and therefore don't require putting right. D'youunderstand?"

  "Not moch," answered the Caffre, gazing into the fire with a puzzledlook. "You say we lives nat'ral life an' don't need be put right; berrygood, why you not live nat'ral life too, an' no need be put right--bealways right?"

  Tom laughed at this.

  "It's not easy to answer that question, Mafuta. We have surroundedourselves with a lot of wants, some of which are right and some wrong.For instance, we want clothes, and houses, and books, and tobacco, andhundreds of other things, which cost a great deal of money, and in orderto make the money we must work late and early, which hurts our health,and many of us must sit all day instead of walk or ride, so that we getill and require a change of life, such as a trip to Africa to shootlions, else we should die too soon. In fact, most of our lives consistsin a perpetual struggle between healthy constitutions and false modes ofliving."

  "Dat berry foolish," said Mafuta, shaking his head. "Me onderstan' datbaccy good, _berry_ good, bot what de use of clo'es; why you not gonakit? s'pose 'cause you not black, eh?"

  "Well, not exactly. The fact is--"

  At this point the conversation was interrupted by the low murmuringgrowl of the lion. The two men gazed at one another earnestly andlistened. Tom quietly laid his hand on his rifle, which always layready loaded at his side, and Mafuta grasped the handle of the knifethat hung at his girdle. For some minutes they remained silent andmotionless, waiting for a repetition of the sound, while the camp-fireglittered brightly, lighting up the expressive countenance of our hero,and causing the whites of Mafuta's eyes to glisten. Again they heardthe growl much nearer than before, and it became evident that the lionwas intent on claiming hospitality. The horses pricked up their ears,snuffed the night air wildly, and showed every symptom of being ill atease. Tom Brown, without rising, slowly cocked his rifle, and Mafuta,drawing his knife, showed his brilliant white teeth as if he had been adog.

  Gradually and stealthily the king of the forest drew near, muttering tohimself, as it were, in an undertone. He evidently did not care todisturb the horses, having set his heart upon the meat which hung on thetree, and the anxious listeners in the tent heard him attempting to clawit down.

  Tom Brown was hastily revolving in his mind the best mode of killing orscaring away this presumptuous visitor, when the lion, in its wanderingsround the tree, tripped over one of the lines of the tent, causing it tovibrate. He uttered a growl of dissatisfaction, and seized the cord inhis teeth.

  "Look out, Mafuta!" exclaimed Tom, as he observed the shadow of thebeast against the curtain.

  He fired as he spoke.

  A terrific roar followed, the canvas was instantly torn open, and thewhole tent fell in dire confusion on the top of its inmates.

  Tom Brown did not move. He always acted on the principle of lettingwell alone, and, feeling that he was unhurt, lay as still as a mouse,but Mafuta uttered a wild yell, sprang through the rent canvas, andbounded up the tree in violent haste. There he remained, and Tom layquietly under the tent for full ten minutes without moving, almostwithout breathing, but as no sound was heard, our hero at last venturedto raise his head. Then he got slowly upon his knees, and, gentlyremoving the incumbent folds of canvas, looked out. The sight that hebeheld was satisfactory. An enormous lion lay stretched out at the fontof the tree quite dead! His half random shot at the shadow had beenmost successful, having passed right through the lion's heart.

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  Not long after this, Tom Brown reached the settlements, where he foundthe major and Wilkins, who had quite recovered from the effects of theirexcursion into the interior, and from whom he learned that a party hadbeen sent off in search of himself.

  Thereafter he went to the Cape, where he joined his father in business.He did not, however, give up hunting entirely, for he belonged to afamily which, as we have said elsewhere, is so sternly romantic and fullof animal life that many of its members are led to attempt and toaccomplish great things, both in the spiritual and physical worlds,undamped by repeated rebuffs and failures. Moreover, he did _not_forget his resolutions, or his Bible, after he got well; but we arebound to add that he did forget his resolve never again to visit theAfrican wilderness, for if report speaks truth, he was seen there many atime, in after years, with Mafuta, hunting the lions.

  THE END.

 
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