*Chapter XVIII.*
*THE LAST OF KARL ENGELBRECHT.*
At ten o'clock, shortly after they had again attended to the wounded menand given them some refreshment, Jan Kokerboom, who was patrolling upand down the line of defence, called out that a man was coming up thehill. Mr. Blakeney, Guy, Tom, and Poeskop at once ran forward, and,mounting the stone breastwork, looked down the ascent. Sure enough, asingle figure, that of a Boer, was seen to be approaching. He carried arifle, to which was tied a dirty white handkerchief. Keeping theirrifles at the ready, the garrison waited until the man had walked towithin fifty yards, when Mr. Blakeney called out to him to put down hisfirearm. The man obeyed, and continued to advance, still holding thehandkerchief at arm's length. The defenders now quitted their shelterand advanced to meet him.
"What do you want?" asked Mr. Blakeney in Dutch, as the man, a bigsturdy Boer, with a red beard, came up to them.
"I've come," answered the man, "to say that my friends and I are sorrywe ever threw in our lot with Karl Engelbrecht, and we want to know whois dead and what has happened to the wounded."
"Well, in the first place," replied Mr. Blakeney, eyeing his mansteadily, and speaking to him very coolly, "it's rather late in the day,isn't it, to come to us in this way, after all the mischief that hasbeen done. Your blood is upon your own heads, of course; but I have ashrewd suspicion that if you had caught us napping, we should have had apretty bad time of it. How many of us would have been alive now, do youthink, if your ruffianly friend Engelbrecht had got into our camp?"
The man actually blushed a furious red; his eyes stared at the ground infront of him; he knew not what to say.
"I suppose," continued Mr. Blakeney, "that, now you have been beaten,you are sorry for yourselves. It's a dirty game, surely, isn't it,attacking men who have done you no sort of injury. I don't know whetherthere's any shame left among you and your fellows, but you ought to beashamed of yourselves."
The man at last found voice. "Yes," he said, "we are ashamed ofourselves, and that is why I've come to see you. I was always againstthis scheme of Engelbrecht's, but I was over-persuaded. I don't mindraiding Kaffirs, but I always said that it was a mistake going againstwhite men."
"Rather a poor distinction, isn't it?" queried Mr. Blakeney. "The factis, you back-country Boers have got into the habit of thinking that,where you go, rifles, and rifles only, are the law and the prophets.Sooner or later--sooner, I hope and believe, than later--you and yourfolk in the Transvaal and elsewhere will have to be taught that the dayof the tyranny of the rifle is past, and that you will have to obey lawsand behave decently like civilized folk. For fifty years--since yourpeople left Cape Colony and entered the Transvaal--you have practicallyobeyed only such laws as pleased you."
The Boer did not like the lecture a bit. He twisted his right heel inthe soil, and glanced sullenly at the Englishman.
"However," went on Mr. Blakeney, in a less serious tone, "I don't wantto pursue an unpleasant subject, and I'm not much of a predicant.[#]But before I show you your wounded men, I want to know what you and yourpeople are going to do."
[#] Predikant, Boer Dutch for preacher or parson.
"We are going to leave Karl Engelbrecht and trek back by ourselves toBenguela," returned the Boer; "and I am deputed to say we are all sorrywe ever interfered with you."
"Well," answered Mr. Blakeney, "that's better news. Now come and look atyour dead and wounded."
First assisting to bury the dead men, whose names were taken down by Mr.Blakeney, the Boer was conducted to the camp, where he spoke with hiswounded comrades. The upshot of his visit was that two of the morelightly wounded Dutchmen were carried away that afternoon on horses sentup for them, while the remaining two, whose injuries precluded theirimmediate removal, were left in the English camp. At the end of a weekthese men also were in a fit state to travel, and, being carried downthe hill in a rude litter, were got to their own wagons.
Three days later the same Boer envoy, Roelof Vorster, who had firstappeared with the flag of truce, came, accompanied by a friend, for thelast time to the Englishmen's camp. With them marched half a dozennative servants carrying six fine tusks of ivory. These were depositednear Mr. Blakeney's wagon. The Boers' mission was this. They wished,on behalf of themselves and their fellows, again to express their sorrowthat they had joined forces with Karl Engelbrecht, and they desired tothank the Englishmen from their hearts for the aid, nursing, and carebestowed upon their wounded men; and they tendered the six tusks ofivory as some small token of their gratitude. Mr. Blakeney thankedthem, and accepted the present.
"Not that we want the ivory," he remarked; "but I believe you honestlymean what you say. Take my advice. Give up the companionship of suchrascals as Karl Engelbrecht, and make up your minds to leavefilibustering alone. It doesn't pay you in the long run. When do youtrek, and what has become of Engelbrecht?"
"We trek to-morrow early," returned Vorster. "I believe Engelbrechttreks also to-morrow. But we have no traffic with him now. He is thecause of our losses, and we have nothing more to say to him. Now,Meneer Blakeney, we have come to say farewell. You are an honest man,and we shall none of us forget your kindness, and the kindness of theyoung meneers with you."
They had coffee together, said their good-byes, and the Boers quittedthe camp. Next day, Poeskop, who had gone out to reconnoitre the Boeroutspan place beyond the mountain, reported that all the wagons haddeparted, the Boers trekking west for Benguela, while Karl Engelbrecht'ssolitary wagon had gone northward by itself.
At last, then, the English party felt that their troubles and dangerswere completely at an end. Their shadowers had vanished, defeatedutterly. One of them, Antonio Minho, lay dead and buried above theKloof of Gold; the other had taken himself off, his evil schemeswrecked, his plottings scattered to the winds. They breathed again, andwere now all prepared to return to that absorbing quest on which theyhad travelled hither. Next morning the four diggers went down the ladderagain, and settled themselves in the kloof for the last week of theirgold quest. By that time Mr. Blakeney reckoned that their work would beaccomplished, and that they would have accumulated gold to the value,roughly, of some L55,000. Over their camp fire, the evening before,they had been discussing these matters. Should they camp for a monthlonger, and trust to their good fortune bringing them yet further storeof wealth? Although they had ransacked the more open deposits of thevalley pretty thoroughly, they might look, with renewed exertion, to winprobably another L20,000. And if they cared to spend more time, andembark in yet bigger operations, they might, by turning the course ofthe river, uncover still greater wealth. Such a task, however, even ifthey had the strength and the numbers to accomplish it, meant severedigging of many weeks' duration. Moreover, the rains were at hand, andin another month, probably, the pleasant stream, which now rippled soplacidly through the kloof, would be a raging torrent, with which, untilsome months had elapsed, it would be impossible to deal.
"Well, uncle," said Guy, "for my part I shall have had enough of diggingand gold-finding, after this next week's work. We have, as you say,already won, or in sight, some L55,000, which will be more than enoughfor the whole lot of us. If we want more we can come again some day, orperhaps get a concession from the Portuguese Government, peg out claims,and form a company."
"But," interrupted Mr. Blakeney, "I'm by no means certain that thiskloof is in Portuguese territory at all. So far as I can discover, aftermuch examination and cross-questioning of Poeskop, the Portuguese havenever visited this piece of country at all, much less exercised anyrights over it. I am inclined to think our gold valley lies in a kindof no-man's-land, and is not even owned or claimed by any sort of nativechief. Sooner or later it may fall to the lot of England, which Iheartily hope it may do.
"There is one matter you've touched upon, Guy," continued his uncle,"which I think we ought to discuss here and now. Whose do you make outthis gold to be that we ha
ve been digging out for these weeks past?"
"Why, the firm's," said Guy, with a laugh; "the long firm--you, Tom, andmyself."
"No, that will hardly do, I think," answered Mr. Blakeney. "To you,most certainly, belongs the lion's share. If your father had lived hewould have come here and made his fortune; and it is only right thatyou, to whom your father willed, as it were, this wonderful valley,should succeed him."
"My dear Uncle Charles," interrupted Guy eagerly, "please don't talklike that. What should I have done without you? You have fitted outthe expedition, planned the whole thing, brought me here, shown me howto find the stuff--done everything, in fact. I know my father saidsomething in his last letter about our going halves, but that ismanifestly unfair to you, who have had the whole weight of thisdiscovery on your shoulders. If you like to let me stand in to theextent of, say, one-third of the plunder, I shall be more than wellcontent. Even a quarter, or less, would satisfy me well."
"My dear Guy," answered his uncle, "you are talking rank nonsense, and Ican't listen to you. What I propose is this. You shall take two-thirdsof the value of the gold, if and when we manage to get to Cape Town, orsome other market. And, mind you, we haven't by any means marketed ourstuff yet. Of the remaining one-third, I think Tom, for all histrouble, ought to have a share, say a quarter--or say L5,000--with whichhe can make a real good start in farming some day, and build himself ahouse. I think such a settlement ought to content us all."
"No, no, no, uncle!" broke in Guy. "I will never agree to any suchabsurd division. You have done everything for me, and practicallycarried me here and found the gold for me. Where on earth should I havebeen without you?"
After a good deal more discussion, Guy remained quite unconvinced by thequiet but weighty arguments of his uncle. Finally it was agreed betweenthem that the arrangement ought to be as Guy's father had proposed, andthat the gold should be divided equally between them. Then came theremuneration of the men. Poeskop, questioned as to what he would like tohave as his reward for showing the way to the kloof, replied that he didnot know--he would leave it to his masters. Perhaps enough money to buya horse, a new rifle, and ten head of cattle would be about the mark.This, of course, his masters put aside as inadequate. Although the goldwas of little use to him--in all these years he had never attempted towin or dispose of it--it was but fair that he should be well paid forhis secret. He had expressed a wish to return to Bechuanaland with hisnew baases. It was arranged that the sum of L1,000 should be put at hisdisposal, so soon as the gold was realized. With this he could buy someland, stock it, and have enough over to purchase a wagon. As for therest of the men, Mr. Blakeney and the boys agreed that a hundred poundsapiece, in addition to the wages paid to them during the expedition,would be handsome remuneration for their services.
For the next few days, then, the four diggers, having descended oncemore into the kloof, were working away industriously, picking, anddigging, and washing. They had skimmed most of the cream from the richtreasure of the valley, and the gold they now won had to be soughtdeeper and required much more labour. Still it was there, and theiroperations unearthed some wonderfully rich nuggets, weighing poundsinstead of ounces. They felt, one and all, absolutely at peace in theirpursuit. They had defeated their enemies, slain and wounded some, anddriven off the remainder, and were now free from the long anxiety whichhad pursued them during their journey from the coast. The shadowers hadvanished, and now not a cloud appeared in the sky of their prosperity.So thought all of them; all, that is, except Poeskop, whose mindoftentimes ran on recent events. Somehow the Bushman had alwaysregretted that he had not traced Karl Engelbrecht farther afield in hisflight. He knew Karl well--too well; he knew his savage and vengefulnature; and he could somehow never quite venture to assure himself thatthe man and his evil plottings were for ever done with. This feelinggrew upon him, and on the fifth evening of their sojourn in the kloof ithad overmastered him to such an extent that he begged his young baas andMr. Blakeney to let him climb the ladder and spend a day in scoutingabout the surrounding country.
"Why," said Guy, with a smile, as they sat at supper that evening, "whatcan you possibly want to go spying again for? Our troubles from thatquarter are all at an end. Engelbrecht and his friends had such a doseof it that they will never want to tackle us again. You're gettingfanciful, Poeskop!"
"Ja, Baas Guy," returned the Bushman, with a grin; "I am fanciful. Ialways have been since I lived naked in the veldt and dug for roots.And my fancy now is that I should like to climb the ladder to-night, andgo beyond the camp and have a look round. I feel restless, shut uphere, and I want a change."
"But you can't climb to-night, Poeskop?" argued Mr. Blakeney. "I don'twant to stop your going. I daresay it will do you good to have a dayoff and prowl around. But you had better wait till morning."
"_Nie_, baas," persisted the little man, "I think I will go to-night.There will be a young moon coming up directly, and I see well enough. Icould climb that ladder, mind you, baas, if the night were as dark aspitch."
So Poeskop had his way, and presently, taking his carbine on his back,went silently to the ladder, and climbed away into the dim heights abovethem, with steps so secret and so stealthy that the watchers below heardand saw absolutely nothing. The Bushman disappeared into the night,vanishing up the cliff face very much as a bat vanishes into the darkspaces in which it loves to make its flight.
And, in very sooth, Poeskop had reason for uneasiness. Karl Engelbrechtwas not yet done with his revenge. After retiring beaten from theattack on the English camp, he had trekked out of the mountains, andoutspanned with the remnant of his Boer allies some ten miles away.There, after mutual recriminations, the two parties split up, and thefilibusters who had joined forces with him, disgusted with their lossesand their ill-success, moved away for the coast. Engelbrecht himself, ashad been observed by Poeskop, had trekked northward into unknown veldt.But the Boer, although he had betaken himself beyond the ken of thegold-seekers, had by no means abated one jot or tittle of the fierceanger and hatred that had for so long possessed him. In a few days hehad recovered from the flesh wound sustained in the attack on theEnglish camp. During these days of enforced quiet his mind, stillconsumed by an overpowering passion for revenge, turned over incessantlymurderous plans against the men who had so lately defeated him. If, bysome means, he could gain the gold valley and lie in ambush, he mightsurely, he thought to himself, with the aid of his henchman Quasip, anotably good shot, dispose of two of the most hated of his rivalswithout much difficulty. Poeskop and the man Blakeney should fall totheir first two barrels, and they could surely manage the two ladsthereafter. There were risks, it was true--risks which, in his calmermoments, he would have weighed in the balance many times beforeaccepting; but in his present frame of mind the man saw red and nothingelse. Revenge called him loudly back to the Gold Kloof; and go he must.Somehow or other he would find means of compassing the destruction ofhis foes.
Taking with him his Hottentot Quasip, and accompanied by a nativeafter-rider mounted on a spare horse, Karl Engelbrecht then rode backfor the mountains surrounding the Gold Kloof. He had with him afortnight's supply of biltong and other necessaries, but he reckonedupon accomplishing his designs within a week. They approached themountains by a narrow ravine some miles to the right of the main valleyby which the gold-finders had found their way into the hills. By thismeans Engelbrecht hoped to escape any scouting observations made by theEnglish party. From this ravine the after-rider, Klaas, was sent backwith the three horses to Engelbrecht's outspan, two days distant, withminute instructions to return to the same place seven days thence.
Then, climbing the mountain, the Boer and his Hottentot set out to findthe way to the Gold Kloof. It was a long and a difficult task, but,thanks to their instinct of locality, they made their way over thehills, and, passing under the vultures' peak, found themselves next dayoverlooking the Gold Kloof on the opposite side to that on which therope-ladder hung. Several
times during this day they reconnoitred mostcarefully for the gold-searchers, whom they could see at work farbeneath them. They passed on to the head of the kloof, and marked verycarefully the cliffs and edges of the ravine whence issued the streamthat ran down the gold valley.
"Now," said Engelbrecht to his companion, after regarding the place fromevery point of view for a long hour, "supposing we get down into thekloof by the rope-ladder yonder, and supposing we settle these preciousfolk below, what are we to do if their servants in the camp above cut orpull up the ladder?"
"_Ek wit nie, baas_ [I don't know, master]," replied the Hottentot. "Weshould be in a nasty place."
"Well, I'll tell you," answered the Boer. "We could _build_ our way outof the kloof by light ladders. There are two difficult places down thiskrantz which we couldn't scale. The rest is climbable. If we are putto it, we will build ladders, set them against these places, and getout. It is to be done. The axes we have with us I brought for somesuch job. I can make a ladder as well as any man in Benguela orMossamedes, and if we are shut up in the kloof yonder we'll just set towork and build ourselves out of it. Two ladders, one of forty feet atthe base, another of thirty feet half-way up, will, I reckon, pass usover those dangerous places; the rest is climbable."
That afternoon the two men, making a wide circuit, got round the head ofthe ravine, and approached the Englishmen's camp in the rear. The camp,as we have seen, had at its back a shoulder of the mountain.Engelbrecht, in the evening, before sunset, reconnoitred this shoulder,and discovered that with care the descent could be made. There weremany bushes, by the aid of which the steep declivity could beaccomplished. The English party, as a matter of fact, had somewhatneglected this approach. They knew only of one avenue to their camp,that by which they themselves had made their way thither, and by whichalso their enemies had attacked them. And now all danger of any freshassault seemed far remote.
That night Engelbrecht and his Hottentot slept among some bush on themountain side, within three hundred yards of the English camp. They hadwell calculated the movements of the gold-seekers and their nativeservants guarding the camp, and had determined to hazard the descent bythe rope-ladder at about two hours after sunrise next morning. By thattime, they reckoned, the party down the kloof would have quitted theirresting-place and gone off for the head of the valley, where theiroperations now lay. Three of the servants in the camp would probably beaway--so Quasip, from his previous spying operations, reckoned itout--with the oxen and horses, grazing far down the hill. Jan Kokerboomwould most likely be alone at the wagon. If they could avoid hisscrutiny, as they hoped to be able to do, they could descend the ladderand conceal themselves without difficulty in the kloof below. In theafternoon, as the diggers returned to their sleeping-place, they couldbe easily ambuscaded. Some dangers there might be--dangers which hadbeen pointed out to his master by Quasip; but in the mind of the Boer,thirsting as he was for revenge at any price, these were as naughtcompared with the chances of success. At dawn the pair of ruffiansdescended very softly from their place of concealment, and lettingthemselves down the steep declivity with the greatest care and caution,by means of bushes and stunted olive-wood trees, which lent theminvaluable aid, safely accomplished their purpose. Now, seeking thecentre of a clump of high bush close to the cliff edge, they lay withina hundred and fifty yards of the ladder, and about two hundred yardsfrom the camp, from which they were still completely screened. Twohours went by. Surely by this time the coast must be nearly clear, andtheir attempt might be made? With extreme caution Engelbrecht raisedhimself from his hiding-place, and, peering through the bushes, lookeddown into the kloof. Far away, up near the head of the valley, he coulddiscern two or three men, their figures dwarfed by the distance, atwork. That was right enough. Now for the attempt on the ladder.
With beating hearts the two men crawled quietly from the bush in whichthey were ensconced, and crept, well under the lee of more bush, towardsthe ladder. Up to half an hour ago they had heard voices about the campand the lowing of cattle. The voices had ceased, and the cattle hadevidently been driven down hill to pasture; all was now quiet. If anyone remained in camp it would be Jan Kokerboom, and presumably he wouldbe asleep. Very slowly, very cautiously, the two men crawled on handsand knees towards the ladder. The journey was safely accomplished.They lay now by the ladder of rope and hide, seventy yards only from thecamp, but concealed from it by some high bush and a little group of wildolive trees. Karl Engelbrecht now nodded to his henchman to begin thedescent. Quasip little liked the job; but he was the servant of aniron-willed and ruthless master, and he knew he had to go through withit. Rising very cautiously, he gripped the upper part of the ladder andwent over the side.
It was a breathless moment for both. The Hottentot, his face deeplypuckered with anxiety, began the downward climb. Engelbrecht shuffledhis huge form to the edge of the cliff and saw his man's descent. Hewatched him till the lower angle of the cliff concealed him from view.The movement of the ladder presently ceased. Quasip had reached thebottom. His own turn had now come. Mingled with some natural feelingof suspense was also a sense of elation. His man was down the cliff;half their difficulties were over. In ten minutes he himself would besafely at the foot, near to that great pile of gold--and then revengeand plunder. The blood of his hated enemies and a vast treasure would behis.
But Karl Engelbrecht, cleverly as he and his Hottentot had laid theirplans, and made their approach to the ladder, had overlooked or neversuspected one elemental fact in the situation. They were in completeignorance that on the previous night Poeskop, their arch-enemy Poeskop,whom they now supposed to be far away up the kloof, digging for goldwith his masters, had ascended the ladder. And Poeskop for the lastfive minutes had been attentively regarding Karl Engelbrecht.Something--he never afterwards could explain satisfactorily why or howit was--but something that morning had impelled him to remain in camp,mending his old, ragged pair of trousers, and to send Jan Kokerboom, wholoved stalking and was not difficult to persuade, to shoot a head ofgame down the hill. While Poeskop sat silent and reflective, under theshade of the wagon, patching his old breeches, some faint sound, orvibration rather, from the direction of the edge of the cliff, caughthis preternaturally sharp ears. He listened. Yes, he was certain now:there was a sound from the direction of the ladder. He knew that sound,but it puzzled him why he should hear it just then. None of his masterscould be climbing upward!
Poeskop was instantly on the alert. Creeping, with the silence andadroitness of a serpent, in the direction of the cliff edge, hepresently peeped through the bushes, and beheld his arch-enemy KarlEngelbrecht, lying prone on the lip of the precipice, evidently watchingvery intently some one on the ladder. For a moment the Bushman wasuncertain what to do. Then it dawned upon him, from the movements ofEngelbrecht, that the person beneath was descending and not climbing theladder. He decided to wait for the Boer's next move, which, indeed, wasnot long in coming.
Engelbrecht softly rose, gripped the ladder fairly, and began todescend. His great frame disappeared over the cliff edge. Then awonderful smile, a smile of triumphant hatred, swept over Poeskop'sface. He knew now that at last his hated enemy was delivered into hishands. He waited till the big Boer was a third of the way down theprecipice, and then, swiftly creeping to the edge, looked over. KarlEngelbrecht was going steadily down, hand under hand. He was notaccustomed to a task like this; but he had nerves of steel and a goodhead, and he was getting used to the dizzy height and the sway of theladder. Suddenly an exclamation from the cliff above him made him lookup. What he saw struck, for the first time in his life, a freezingterror at his heart. He saw above him, leering at him with fiendishglee and malevolence, the face of Poeskop, the Bushman.
"So," cried Poeskop in Dutch, "I have you at last! At last, KarlEngelbrecht! I have waited a long time, but now I am even with you,_edele heer_ [noble sir]," he added, with jeering sarcasm. "You won'tlike the fall, but you've got to face it, and you'l
l strike plaguy hardat the bottom. At last, Karl, the devil has thee! The devil has thee!"
Death, indeed, stared the Boer in the face. He knew he was doomed; heknew that nothing in this world would turn the fell purpose of the manabove him. But, brute as he was, Engelbrecht was no coward, and, settinghis teeth, he made one despairing attempt to snatch salvation. Hisrifle hung at his back. Clinging to the rope-ladder with one hand, hedisengaged the weapon with marvellous dexterity, swinging as he was overthat frightful abyss, and, pointing it upward, tried to align it on theBushman. Next instant he pulled trigger, the bullet whizzed far upwardinto space, and the report of the rifle rattled with deafeningreverberation around the cliffs.
Poeskop delayed no longer. The madness of revenge ran seething throughhis veins. Whipping out his long hunting knife from its sheath, hehacked with desperate energy at the tough hide of the ladder. One sidewent, the ladder drooped and collapsed, and the Boer hung helpless andawry by the frail support of the other side only.
"Die! die! die! you schelm!" gasped Poeskop, his voice shrill withpassion, as he shore and hacked for the last three times at the rawhide. With the final frantic stroke the remaining strand went, and withit the whole ladder and its burden. From a height of three hundred feetKarl Engelbrecht fell to the bottom of the cliff. Thrice he turned overin mid-air; then, with a sickening thud, his huge frame struck the hardearth, within a few feet of his startled Hottentot. That terrific fallreduced the giant upon the instant to little more than a hideous pulp ofbroken bones, blood, and pounded flesh; and from the moment of theimpact, the Boer neither breathed nor stirred again.