*Chapter XIX.*
*HOMEWARD BOUND.*
The report of Engelbrecht's rifle shot had at once roused the attentionof the gold-diggers at the head of the kloof; and although the finalcatastrophe had overtaken the Boer before they had extricated themselvesfrom some bush behind which they were working, they were all threeinstantly aware that something was happening in the neighbourhood of theupper camp.
"Come, lads," said Mr. Blakeney, "we must be off. I don't know what'sup, but there's some mischief brewing, I'm certain."
At once they set off at a steady trot towards the rope-ladder. They hadtraversed some six hundred yards, and emerged from a small grove ofthorn trees about three hundred yards from the ladder foot, when anexclamation from Guy suddenly brought them to a halt.
"Look!" he cried. "There's some one--Poeskop, I believe--at the top ofthe cliff; and, by Jove, the ladder's gone!"
Mr. Blakeney and Tom stared hard at the cliff top, and saw at once thatGuy's assertion was right. Poeskop it was, gesticulating at the summitof the precipice, and the ladder had vanished.
"There's something very wrong here," exclaimed Mr. Blakeney. "Come on!"
They were not long in covering the last three hundred yards thatseparated them from the foot of the cliff, and there a strange andtragic scene awaited them.
Standing alone, by the confused heap of the fallen ladder, which itselfpartly covered the dead body of Karl Engelbrecht, was the HottentotQuasip, who was evidently much too terrified by the appalling tragedythat had taken place to attempt any hostilities. The man was tremblingwith terror, and, as Mr. Blakeney approached him, threw down his rifleand awaited the Englishman's speech.
"What does all this mean?" asked Mr. Blakeney sternly, holding his riflein readiness.
It was some moments before the Hottentot could pull himself sufficientlytogether to reply coherently. Then he spoke.
"My baas there," he said, pointing to the dead Boer, "was coming toattack you. He made me climb down first, and then started himself.Some one from your camp above must have seen him. The baas fired a shotas he hung on the ladder, and then the ladder was cut, and he fell tothe bottom and was killed."
"A pretty story, indeed," was Mr. Blakeney's comment, as he moved a paceor two forward and picked up the man's rifle. "So you two meant, Isuppose, to stalk and murder us while we were at our work.--And but forPoeskop's fancy to climb out last night," he added, turning aside toGuy and Tom, "they might very well have accomplished their purpose.Poeskop's restlessness was providential indeed. The little man'sinstincts are wonderful."
"Yes," said Guy, "he seems almost to smell danger when it's about."
"Well," went on Mr. Blakeney, gazing at the awful remains of the deadBoer, lying a mere huddle of broken humanity beneath the tangle of theladder, "we shall have no more trouble from that quarter, which is ablessing. But we're in a very pretty mess. I suppose Poeskop had noalternative in cutting the ladder and hurling Engelbrecht to the bottom,but he has left us in a very awkward predicament. What's to be done, Iwonder?"
"Hadn't we better secure this miserable Hottentot?" said Tom, glancingat Quasip.
"Yes, you're right, Tom," replied his father. "I don't suppose he'llattempt anything again, now his precious baas is done for; and he looksas if all the stuffing were knocked out of him. But we may as well makesure."
Tom went to their camping ground hard by, and brought back a couple ofraw-hide riems. With these they fastened the wrists and ankles of theHottentot, and placed him under the shade of an olive tree. The mansubmitted quietly enough. As they had surmised, all the fight had beenfrightened out of him.
"Now," said Mr. Blakeney, "we must see what we can do with Poeskop."
Coming out from under the cliff, they looked up and saw Poeskop's yellowface far above them, peering anxiously over the precipice. The Bushmanput his hands to his mouth and shouted shrilly. It was some minutesbefore they could make out his words, so great a distance was betweenthem. Then Tom suddenly said,--
"I have it. He asks: 'Is Engelbrecht dead?'"
Making a speaking trumpet of his hands, Mr. Blakeney roared out veryslowly, in deep, stentorian tones, "Ja, Engelbrecht is dood!"
There was a fine echo up the cliff. It was quite clear that Poeskopcomprehended the message. He rose to his feet, and clapped his handswith joy. Then, throwing himself down once more, he asked again inDutch,--
"What shall I do, baas?"
They understood him, after several repetitions, and Mr. Blakeney againshouted up the cliff,--
"Get riems. Make a rope, and let down."
For some minutes it seemed that the Bushman could not comprehend thismessage. Then, after more repetitions, delivered very slowly, it dawnedupon him, and he shouted down,--
"Yes! In three days."
After this message he sprang to his feet and disappeared.
"Well," said Mr. Blakeney, "we're in a curious position, and must lookupon ourselves as prisoners for the present. With ordinary luck I thinkPoeskop and the other men will be able to relieve us. What Poeskop hasbolted away for is quite clear. He knows he has somehow got to findthree hundred and twenty feet of hide rope. Altogether I think they mayhave up there--the remnants of what we did not use for theladder--eighty or a hundred feet. He and the other three men have gotto find the rest. They'll, of course, go out, leaving one man in chargeof the oxen and horses, and shoot game till they get enough raw hide forthe purpose. Poeskop says three days; I believe it will be nearer a weekbefore they can do the business. I don't think there will be anyinterruptions, but I'll ask the Hottentot what became of the other partyof Boers."
Five minutes' cross-questioning of Quasip elicited the fact thatEngelbrecht and his allies had quarrelled, after the repulse of theirattack on the camp, and that the Boers had trekked for Benguela.
"That's all right," said Mr. Blakeney to the two lads. "Barringaccidents, our men will perform their task, and put together a ropestrong enough to haul up the ladder here. Now we'll have some food, andthen settle to work again. We've got three or four days before us, andwe may as well make the best of them, and add to our stock of gold.Luckily we've got a week's supply of flour, coffee, and othernecessaries. We have plenty of meat, and can shoot more when we needit. We shall be all right, and must just go about our work quietly tillthe rope comes."
They turned away from the dread spectacle of the dead Boer, andrekindled their fire. A kettle being boiled, they made some coffee.Mr. Blakeney ate some lunch, but the two lads, beyond drinking somecoffee and eating a morsel of bread apiece, had little stomach for themeal. The horror of the tragedy of Karl Engelbrecht had upset them.
"Pater," said Tom, "I can eat no lunch, and I don't think Guy has muchappetite either. That sight over yonder has fairly sickened me."
"Well," said his father, "it is rather horrible, I grant. I becamehardened to horrors of this kind in the Basuto War of 1879. At thestorming of Morosi's Mountain in that year we witnessed many unpleasantincidents, which hardened one's stomach to scenes of this kind. Thisfall of Engelbrecht is, I admit, far worse than the state of affairs themorning after our fight the other day, when we had to look after theenemy's dead and wounded."
"Yes, uncle, far worse," added Guy. "I, for one, shall never forget theending of Karl Engelbrecht. It's horrible!"
After lunch they went back to the scene of the tragedy. The HottentotQuasip, on being questioned, volunteered to help them.
"Baas," he said, addressing Mr. Blakeney, "you think badly of me, and Idaresay you have good cause. But I am not so bad as you think me. Iwas Engelbrecht's servant, and had to do his bidding. If I dared todisobey him I should have been flogged, and perhaps shot. Like your ownman, Poeskop, I was afraid of him, and only wanted to get out of hisservice."
"Well, that may or may not be," said Mr. Blakeney coolly. "Anyhow, I'llgive you a chance. I'll untie you, and if you work for us quietly andwell
during the daytime you shall have your liberty. At night you'llhave to be tied up, until we feel we can trust you."
"Very well, baas," said the man. "That is good enough for me. I'llprove to you that I am willing to work for my skorf, and that I am notso bad as you may think me."
Untying the Hottentot, therefore, they set him to work with pick andspade to dig a grave for his dead master. They themselves, meanwhile,proceeded to disentangle the ladder from the confusion in which it hadfallen. This was a work of some little time. Then they removed thebattered corpse of Karl Engelbrecht--a terrible spectacle--and laid itin the grave dug by Quasip. This done, they proceeded up the valley,and spent the remainder of the day in their gold-mining operations.They took the Hottentot with them; it was evident that he was sincere inhis attempt to please them. He plied pick and shovel, and worked awaysteadily till dusk, when they relinquished their labours and returned totheir camping ground.
For the next three days they steadily pushed on with their mining work.On the whole they did much better than they had anticipated, coming upona fresh and very rich find of gold, which lay a few feet below thesurface in some alluvial ground at the head of the stream. Each nightthey added considerably to the big pile of treasure already accumulatednear the ladder foot. That morning Poeskop had appeared at daybreak atthe top of the cliff, and shouted down to them. It was difficult togather clearly what he said, but they understood him to mean that in twomore days he would be ready for them.
"That means five days' waiting instead of three," said Tom, as theyreturned to breakfast.
"Yes, it's a long wait," replied his father. "But I expect they mayhave had some trouble in shooting game and getting hide for the rope.However, a day or so extra down here won't hurt us."
"Not a bit," said Guy, who took the whole matter very good humouredly."We shall be all the richer."
"Oh, that's all very well," retorted Tom, "but I want to get out of thisplace. I shan't feel happy till I'm on the top of the cliff yonder, andwe've inspanned the oxen and are trekking for home. By the way, pater,"he went on, "which route are we going home? By Mossamedes or Benguela?"
"Well, Tom," returned his father, "that's what I've been puzzling myhead over for a long time past. If we go out by a Portuguese port weshall have to show our gold; there will be all sorts of inquiries; andvery possibly the authorities may try and lay claim to the whole of ourfindings. Not only do I think this possible, but much more thanprobable. That would be a pretty ending to all our adventures, dangers,and hard work."
"Uncle," exclaimed Guy, "we'll never yield a red cent of this gold toany Portuguese in the world! These filibusters of Boers have had a shotfor us and our treasure. It isn't likely that we shall cart our nuggetsto Mossamedes, and calmly allow these Portuguese, who, as you have shownus, have misgoverned their country so shamefully for three or fourhundred years, to rob us in that way. Besides, it's much more thandoubtful whether we are in Portuguese territory here at all."
"Quite so, Guy," replied Mr. Blakeney. "I'm entirely with you. Forseveral days past I have been turning the whole thing over in my mind.I am honestly certain, from Poeskop's information, that we havediscovered and won this gold in neutral ground--in land belonging to noman. That being so, we're not going to allow the Portuguese authoritieseven a royalty on our find. To avoid any disturbance with them we shallhave to make a long and troublesome trek right across country toBechuanaland. This will take us several months. It's a nasty business.We shall have to go through feverish veldt, and the rains will be uponus. Still, it's the only thing to be done, and we shall have to do it.What do you lads say? Are you prepared for further difficulties?"
"Of course we are, pater," broke in Tom. "Anything is better thanmeekly handing over our hard-won gold to the Portuguese Government.Guy, what do you say?" he added, turning to his cousin.
"Why, I'm entirely with you, Tom," returned Guy. "I say trek south andeast, by all means, for Bechuanaland."
"Carried _nem. con._," said Tom cheerfully. "Pater, we'll travel by theoverland route. What do you make out our course to be? I confess I'mrather vague. I suppose we'll have to pass Lake Ngami, cross theKalahari thirst-land, and go down through Khama's Country and theProtectorate."
"That's just what we shall have to do, lads," said Mr. Blakeney. "Onceat Lake Ngami, we shall manage very well, although the 'thirst' is a badone after you leave the Lake River, before reaching Khama's chief town,Palachwe. But the main difficulties lie between here and Lake Ngami.We shall have to find our way down to the Okavango, cross that riversomewhere--by no means a simple operation with a heavily-loadedwagon--and trek for the lake. I confess I don't like the look of thefirst part of the journey. It's almost unknown country, and bound togive us a lot of trouble."
On the fourth morning of their enforced confinement in the kloof, JanKokerboom appeared at the top of the cliff, showed the end of a raw-hiderope, which he dangled over the precipice, and made them understand thatall would be ready next day. On the fifth day, therefore, the threeadventurers awoke betimes with cheerful anticipations. They hadfinished their gold-digging; their heap of treasure was completed; andthey now only looked forward to a speedy escape from the valley in whichthey had delved so long and so successfully. Quasip was, as usual,unbound, and allowed to wait on them at breakfast. Poeskop's face hadnot yet appeared over the top of the precipice, but they confidentlylooked forward to setting eyes on his yellow visage very shortly. Theymade an excellent meal of stewed guinea-fowl, which Guy had shot theevening before; and a whole tin of marmalade--a piece of recklessextravagance, Mr. Blakeney called it--was, in celebration of their lastmeal in the Gold Kloof, sacrificed for the occasion.
Half an hour after breakfast, cheers of applause greeted the appearanceof Poeskop at the head of the cliff. It was quite clear he was in ashigh spirits as his masters beneath him. He waved his hand to them andshouted. The Bushman was joined by Jan Kokerboom, and then Mangwalaanand September peered over with grinning faces. Then all withdrew fromthe edge, and the tail end of the rope began to creep down the face ofthe precipice.
To the watchers below it seemed an unconscionable time before it reachedthe bottom; but at last it was within reach of their fingers. Then ahearty cheer from the lads informed Poeskop at the top that all waswell. Next, the end of the rope was made fast to the ladder, and thebusiness of hoisting up the ladder itself began. It was a long, and byno means an easy, operation. There were several sticks and stoppages,requiring care and manipulation on the part of the hoisters; but atlength, at the end of a couple of hours, the task was completed, theladder hoisted, and the upper end securely fastened. Then, with all thenimbleness of an ape, down came Poeskop. His story was a simple one.They had shot game in order to obtain hide and make the fresh rope, andthe beasts of chase had not been so plentiful, or so easy to come by, ason the former occasion. Moreover, the absence of the three best shotsin the party, Mr. Blakeney, Tom, and Guy, had made a good deal ofdifference. However, the task was accomplished, and communication oncemore restored.
That very afternoon began the work of carrying up the gold. This was along and most tedious process. It was impossible, owing to the severity,and it may be added the risk, of the climb, to carry up more than asmall load at a time. But all hands save one set willingly to work, andby degrees the business was done. Seleti, the humorist and butt of thecamp, still raftered from his wound, and was not equal to the descent ofthe rope-ladder. He had never, in fact, attempted it; and the very realterror and distress which he once exhibited at the prospect of thedownward climb, or indeed at any near approach to the edge of the cliff,had disarmed his master's anger, although it was not sufficient to deterthe chaff and laughter of his fellow-servants.
However, Seleti was kept well occupied in cooking for the party, doingodd jobs, and looking after the oxen and horses. In two days the longand severe labour of bringing up the gold was over. They had workedfrom earliest dawn till the fading of the last gleam of daylight
, andall were tired out by their exertions. None of them, they declared,ever wanted to see the bottom of the kloof again, or to climb that awfulladder. They had brought up the last of the stores and implements, andall were stiff and sore from their great strain. Most of them had rawand blistered hands from much handling of the ropes. Quasip, althoughviewed at first with much disfavour by the rest of the natives, provedhimself so cheerful and so willing that gradually he wore down theenmity of all his captors, and was taken into some degree of favour.
Having transferred the heap of gold from the bottom to the top of thecliff, it was now put into strong new sacks, tied up, and sealed. Thesacks and the rough sealing wax were the products of Tom's fertileimagination. He had insisted on their being bought at Cape Town. If,he urged, they were going to find gold, why not take appliances forsecuring the safety of the treasure? Many times during the expeditionhad Tom been chaffed for his pains; but the laugh was now on his side,and he did not forget to remind Guy and Mr. Blakeney of the fact. Thewagon was carefully reloaded, the gold being placed at the bottom, withthe remaining stores, which had now very considerably diminished, at thetop. There was just room for Mr. Blakeney's kartel and no more, and theafter-part of the interior of the wagon carried as much as it couldhold. All things now being in order, the oxen were inspanned, and thelong trek for home began.
They quitted the kloof and its neighbouring mountains with strangelymingled feelings. Joy and satisfaction were theirs, in that they hadconquered all their obstacles, achieved their purpose, and gained aconsiderable fortune. The whole expedition had been full of romanticincident. They had passed through many adventures, and had escaped manyperils. Upon the whole, fair as was the Gold Kloof and its vicinity,they were not sorry to set eyes upon it for the last time. Death andtragedy had had their part there; and somehow, as Guy said, and they allagreed, the kloof would, in the recollection of each one of them, alwaysbe associated with that last terrible episode in their Odyssey--thedeath of Karl Engelbrecht.
Once more, then, as the wagon rolled away down the mountain, the threewhite men and Poeskop crept to the edge of the precipice, and looked forthe last time on the fair and lovely valley, which for them had provedindeed an El Dorado. Then, mounting their horses, they slowly followedthe wagon.
It was a long trek before the wayfarers reached British Bechuanaland.Travelling south, and crossing various streams, they presently struckthe Kuito River, and followed it down to its junction with the Okavango.Somewhat lower down they crossed the Okavango, after much difficulty,and travelled south-east until they reached Lake Ngami. During thispart of their journey they underwent many adventures, and suffered attimes much from fever. The rains fell, and they were delayed for weeksby the impassable state of the country. Crossing the Kalahari toKhama's Country, they recovered much of their health and spirits in thepure and dry air of this desert region. At Palachwe, where they arrivedin rags, and with scarcely any remnant of their stores left to them,they were enabled to refit, and to procure all necessary provisions fortheir trek south through the Protectorate. Finally, five months afterquitting the Gold Kloof, they reached Johannesburg, whither they hadtravelled direct, for the purpose of realizing their treasure. Duringall this long wandering, the Hottentot Quasip, who had begged to beallowed to travel with them, had served them well and faithfully, andproved himself a reliable man all round. Thenceforth, having purgedhimself of his unfortunate connection with the ruffian Engelbrecht,which he always declared had been his misfortune and not his fault, Mr.Blakeney took him into regular employment.
At Johannesburg the gold was safely and quietly disposed of. Mr.Blakeney had roughly estimated the value of the treasure, after makingdue deductions, at about L58,000. The gold turned out to be singularlyfree from impurities, and the price realized for it amounted to L62,000.After setting apart, therefore, Poeskop's L1,000, paying each of theirmen their wages and the sum of L100 by way of bonus, and a further bonusof L50 to Quasip, there remained for division between Guy Hardcastle andMr. Blakeney the sum of rather more than L60,000, which, as all partiesagreed, furnished a sufficiently handsome return for the risks, labours,and hardships of less than a year's adventure. From Mr. Blakeney's sharehad to be deducted, according to agreement, Tom's portion of L5,000.
At Bamborough Farm, whither they returned at once after disposing oftheir gold at Johannesburg, their reception was a memorable one. It wasa joyful meeting, indeed, after their long absence--an absenceaccentuated by the fact that, during many months, Mrs. Blakeney and herchildren had had no communication of any kind from the trekkers. Forthis she had been to some extent prepared; yet, none the less, thoselong months of silence and of doubt had been very trying to her and hergirls. Some happy weeks of reunion had passed before the wanderers hadtold the tale of their adventures in full, and completely satisfied thenatural curiosity of their hearers.
Guy Hardcastle and Tom Blakeney took part in the Boer War, fighting inthe same colonial contingent, and each retiring at the close of thegreat struggle with the rank of captain. Their adventures in thatstirring campaign cannot, for lack of space, be related here.
Guy is now settled on a fine farm in British Bechuanaland, adjoining hisuncle's ranch. Here he has built himself a roomy and most comfortablehomestead, and, having induced his fair cousin, Ella Blakeney, to becomehis partner and his helpmate for life, has settled down to an existencefor which he is admirably fitted. He and his wife mean, however, by nomeans to grow rusty in their Bechuanaland home. They pay an occasionalvisit to Cape Town or its marine suburbs, and during their honeymoonmade a trip of some duration to the Old Country; this trip they intendto repeat at intervals.
Tom, who looked after their place for them during their absence, is anear neighbour of theirs, living, thus far, as a bachelor on a farm ofhis own within a few miles of their own homestead and of Bamborough. Forthe present he vows that his adventures are by no means ended, and thathe has no intention of settling down to married life. Of thesedeclarations, however, his sisters, who know Tom and his idiosyncrasiesfairly well, are profoundly sceptical.
THE END.
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