CHAPTER THREE.

  HOW CONGO CROSSED A "DRIFT."

  Next morning, by break of day, our yagers were astir, and the firstobject upon which they rested their eyes was the river. To their joy ithad fallen several feet, as they could tell by the water-mark upon thetrees.

  The streams of South Africa, like those of most tropical andsub-tropical countries, and especially where the district ismountainous, rise and fall with much greater rapidity than those oftemperate climes. Their sudden rise is accounted for by the greatquantity of water which in tropical storms is precipitated within ashort period of time--the rain falling, not in light sparse drops, butthick and heavy, for several hours together, until the whole surface ofthe country is saturated, and every rivulet becomes a torrent.

  Of these storms we have an exemplification in our summerthunder-showers--with their big rain-drops, when in a few minutes thegutter becomes a rivulet and the rut of the cartwheel a running stream.Fortunately these "sunshiny" showers are of short duration. They "lastonly half-an-hour," instead of many hours. Fancy one of them continuingfor a whole day or a week! If such were to be the case, we shouldwitness floods as sudden and terrible as those of the tropics.

  The quick fall in the streams of South Africa is easily accounted for--the principal reason being that the clouds are their feeders, and not,as with us, springs and lakes. Tropic rivers rarely run fromreservoirs; the abrupt cessation of the rain cuts off their supply, andthe consequence is the sudden falling of their waters. Evaporation by ahot sun, and large absorption by the dry earth, combine to produce thiseffect. Now the young yagers saw that the "Gareep" (such is the nativename of the Orange River) had fallen many feet during the night; butthey knew not whether it was yet fordable. Though the place was a"drift" used by Hottentots, Bechuanas, traders, and occasionally"trek-boors," yet none of the party knew any thing of its depth, nowthat the freshet was on. There were no marks to indicate the depth--nomeans by which they could ascertain it. They could not see the bottom,as the water was of a yellow-brown colour, in consequence of the flood.It might be three feet--it might be six--but as the current was veryrapid, it would be a dangerous experiment to wade in and measure itsdepth in that way.

  What were they to do then? They were impatient to effect a crossing.How were they to do so in safety?

  Hendrik proposed that one of them should try the ford on horseback. Ifthey could not wade it, they might swim over. He offered to go himself.Groot Willem, not to be outdone by Hendrik in daring, made a similarproposal. But Hans, who was the eldest of the party, and whose prudentcounsels were usually regarded by all, gave his advice against thiscourse. The experiment would be too perilous, he said. Should thewater prove too deep, the horses would be compelled to swim, and with sorapid a current they might be carried far below the "drift,"--perhapsdown to where the banks were high and steep. There they should not beable to climb out, and both horse and rider might perish.

  Besides, urged Hans, even should a rider succeed by swimming to reachthe opposite side in safety, the oxen and wagons could not get over inthat way, and where would be the use of crossing without _them_? Nonewhatever. Better, therefore, to wait a little longer until they shouldbe certain that the river had subsided to its usual level. That theycould ascertain by the water ceasing to fall any further, and anotherday would decide the point. It would only be the loss of another day.

  Hans's reasoning was good, and so was his counsel. Hendrik and GrootWillem acknowledged this, and agreed to act upon it; but for all that,Groot Willem, who was longing to get among the giraffes, buffaloes, andelephants, felt a strong desire to attempt the crossing; and Hendrik,too, was similarly inclined, from the sheer love of adventure--forHendrik's fault was that of being over-courageous.

  Both would have risked the river--even to swimming it--had it beenpracticable for the teams to have crossed, but as that was not believedpossible, they agreed, though with rather a bad grace, to wait upon thewater another day.

  But, after all, they were not to wait a day,--scarcely an hour. In anhour from that time they had crossed the drift--wagons, oxen, and all--and were trekking over the plain on the opposite side!

  What had led to their so suddenly changing their resolution? How hadthey ascertained that the drift was fordable? For a knowledge of thatfact they were indebted to Congo the Kaffir.

  While engaged in their discussion as to the depth of the river, thelatter had been observed standing upon the bank and throwing largepebbles into the stream. Thinking it was merely some freak orsuperstition on the part of the savage, none of them had taken anynotice of him, Swartboy excepted. The Bushman was watching the Kaffir,with glances that bespoke a keen interest in his movements.

  At length a loud scornful laugh, from Swartboy, accompanying a series ofrather rough phrases, directed the attention of the young yagers uponthe Kaffir.

  "My footy, Congo! ole fool you! b'lieve you tell depth so? tink so, oleskellum? Ha! ha! ha! you bania groot ole humbug! Ha! ha! ha!"

  The Kaffir took no notice of this rather insulting apostrophe, butcontinued to fling his pebbles as before; but the young yagers, who werealso watching him, noticed that he was not throwing them carelessly, butin a peculiar manner, and their attention now became fixed upon him.

  They saw that each time as the pebble parted from his fingers, he bentsuddenly forward, with his ear close to the surface, and in thisattitude appeared to listen to the "plunge" of the stone! When thesound died away, he would rise erect again, fling another pebble_farther out than the last_, and then crouch and listen as before?

  "What's the Kaffir about?" asked Hendrik of Groot Willem and Arend, who,being his masters, were more likely to know.

  Neither could tell. Some Zooloo trick, no doubt; Congo knew many a one.But what he meant by his present demonstration neither could tell.Swartboy's conjecture appeared to be correct, the Kaffir was _soundingthe depth of the drift_.

  "Hilloa, there! Congo!" cried Groot Willem. "What are ye after, oldboy?"

  "Congo find how deep drift be, baas Willem," was the reply.

  "Oh! you can't tell that way; can you?"

  The Kaffir made answer in the affirmative.

  "Bah!" ejaculated Swartboy, jealous of the interest his rival wasbeginning to excite; "da's all nonsense; ole fool know noffin 't all'bout it,--dat he don't."

  The Kaffir still took no notice of Swartboy's gibes--though they nodoubt nettled him a little--but kept on casting the pebbles, each one,as already stated, being flung so as to fall several feet beyond the onethat preceded it. He continued at this, until the last pebble was seento plunge within a yard or two of the opposite side of the current, heremore than a hundred yards wide. Then raising himself erect, and turninghis face to the young yagers, he said in firm but respectful tones--

  "Mynheeren, you drift may cross--now."

  All regarded him with incredulous glances.

  "How deep think you it is?" inquired Hans. The Kaffir made answer byplacing his hands upon his hips. It would reach so high.

  "My footy!" exclaimed Swartboy, in derision. "It's twice dar depth. Doyou want drown us, ole fool?"

  "May drown _you_--nobody else!" quietly replied the Kaffir, at the sametime measuring Swartboy with his eye, and curling his lip in derision ofthe Bushman's short stature.

  The young yagers burst out into a loud laugh. Swartboy felt the sting,but for some moments was unable to retort.

  At length he found words--

  "All talk, you ole black, all talk! You make groot show,--you berrywise,--you want wagon sweep off,--you want drown da poor oxen,--youpretend so deep. If tink so, go wade da drift,--go wade yourself! Ha!"

  Swartboy thought by this challenge he had put the finisher on theKaffir. He believed that the latter would not dare to try the ford, inspite of his assertion about its depth. But Swartboy was doomed todisappointment and humiliation.

  Scarcely had he uttered the sneering challenge when the Kaffir, havingbent a glance
upon the rest, and seeing, that they regarded him withlooks of expectation, turned round and dashed down the bank to the edgeof the water.

  All saw that he was bent upon crossing. Several of them uttered criesof warning, and cautioned him to desist.

  But the Zooloo spirit was roused, and the savage did not heed thewarning cries. He did not hurry madly into the current, however; butset about the business with caution and design. They saw him stoop downby the edge of the water, and the next moment rise erect again, holdingin his hands a large stone that could not have weighed much less than ahundredweight. This, to the astonishment of all, he raised upon thecrown of his head, and, holding it in that position, marched boldly intothe water!

  All saw the object of his carrying the stone,--which was, of course, toenable him by its additional weight to stem the strong current! In thishe was quite successful, for although the water at certain places rosequite to his waist, in less than five minutes he stood high and dry onthe opposite bank.

  A cheer greeted him, in which all but Swartboy joined, and anotherreceived him on his return; and then the oxen were inspanned, and thehorses saddled and mounted, and wagons, oxen, dogs, horses, and yagers,all crossed safely over, and continued their route northward.