The Settler and the Savage
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
TREATS OF THE ZUURVELD AGAIN, AND ONE OR TWO SURPRISING INCIDENTS.
Seated one evening at the door of their dug-out hut or cavern on thebanks of the river, the three brothers Skyd discussed the affairs of thecolony and smoked their pipes.
"Never knew such a country," said John Skyd, "never!"
"Abominable!" observed James.
"Detestable!" remarked Robert.
"Why don't you Skyd-addle then?" cried Frank Dobson. "If I thought itas bad as you do, I'd leave it at once. But you are unjust."
"Unjust!" echoed John Skyd; "that were impossible. What could be worse?Here have we been for three years, digging and ploughing, raking andhoeing, carting and milking, churning and--and--and what the better arewe now? Barely able to keep body and soul together, with the rustruining our wheat, and an occasional Kafir raid depriving us of ourcattle, while we live in a hole on the river's bank like rabbits; withthis disadvantage over these facetious creatures, that we have morenumerous wants and fewer supplies."
"That's so," said Bob; "if we could only content ourselves with a fewbulbous roots and grass all would be well, but, Frank, we sometimes wanta little tea and sugar; occasionally we run short of tobacco; now andthen we long for literature; coffee sometimes recurs to memory; at rareintervals, especially when domestic affairs go wrong, the thought ofwoman, as of a long-forgotten being of angelic mould, _will_ come overus. Ah! Frank, it is all very well for you to smile, you who have beenaway enjoying yourself for months past hunting elephants and other smallgame in the interior, but you have no notion how severely our failuresare telling on our spirits. Why, Jim there tried to make a joke theother day, and it was so bad that Jack immediately went to bed with asick-headache."
"True," said Jack solemnly, "quite true, and I couldn't cure thatheadache for a whole day, though I took a good deal of Cape-smoke beforeit came on, as well as afterwards."
"But, my dear chums," remonstrated Dobson, "is it not--"
"Now don't ask, `Is it not your own fault?' with that wiseacre look ofyours," said John Skyd, testily tapping the bowl of his pipe on a stonepreparatory to refilling it. "We are quite aware that we are notfaultless; that we once or twice have planted things upside down, or ayard too deep, besides other little eccentricities of ignorance; butsuch errors are things of the past, and though we now drive our drillsas straight as once, heigho! we ruled our account-books, things don'tand won't improve."
"If you had not interrupted me, Jack, you might have spared much breathand feeling. I was about to say, Is it not a fact that many of theother settlers are beginning to overcome their difficulties though youare not? True, it has now been found that the wheat crops, on which weat first expected almost entirely to depend, have for three seasonsproved an entire failure, and sheep do not thrive on our sour grasspasturage, though they seem to have done admirably with the Scotch atBaviaans River; but have not many of those around us been successful inraising rye, barley, oats, and Indian corn? have they not many herds ofhealthy cattle? are not pumpkins and potatoes thriving pretty well, andgardens beginning to flourish? Our roasted barley makes very faircoffee, and honey is not a bad substitute for sugar."
"You have made a successful bag this trip, I see, by your taking such ahealthy view of our circumstances," said Bob.
"Yes, I've done very well," returned Dobson; "and I find the hunter'slife so congenial, and withal so profitable, that I'm really thinking ofadopting it as a profession. And that brings me to the object of myvisit here to-night. The fact is, my dear fellows, that men of yourgenius are not fit for farmers. It takes quiet-going men of sense tocultivate the soil. If you three were to live and dig to the age ofMethuselah you'd never make a living out of it."
"That's plain speaking," said John, with a nod, "and I agree with youentirely."
"I mean to speak plainly," rejoined Dobson, "and now what I propose is,that you should give it up and join me in the ivory business. It willpay, I assure you."
Here their friend entered into a minute and elaborate account of hisrecent hunting expedition, and imparted to John Skyd some of his ownenthusiasm, but James and Robert shook their heads. Leaving them tothink over his proposal, their friend went to make a call on the Brooksof Mount Hope.
"Drat that boy! he's escaped again, and after mischief I'll be bound!"was the first sound that saluted him as he walked towards the house. Itwas Mrs Scholtz's voice, on the other side of the hedge with which thegarden was surrounded. The remark was immediately followed by apiercing shriek from the nurse, who repeated it again and again. Dobsoncould see her through an opening in the branches, standing helpless,with her hands clasped and eyeballs glaring. Thoroughly alarmed, hedashed towards the gate. At the same moment the voice of a child washeard:--
"Oh, look!--look 'ere, nuss, ain't I cotched a pritty ting--such apritty ting!"
Springing through the gate, Dobson beheld Master Junkie, staggering upthe track like a drunken man, with one hand clasped tight round thethroat of a snake whose body and tail were twining round the chubby armof its captor in a vain effort at freedom, while its forked tonguedarted out viciously. It was at once recognised as one of the mostdeadly snakes in the country.
"Ain't it a booty?" cried Junkie, confronting Dobson, and holding up hisprize like the infant Hercules, whom he very much resembled in allrespects.
Dobson, seizing the child's hand in his own left, compressed it stilltighter, drew his hunting-knife, and sliced off the reptile's head, justas Edwin Brook with his wife and daughter, attracted by the nurse'soutcry, rushed from the cottage to the rescue. Scholtz and George Dallyat the same time ran out respectively from stable and kitchen.
Mrs Scholtz had gone into a hysterical fit of persistent shrieking andlaughter, which she maintained until she saw that her darling was saved;then, finishing off with a prolonged wail, she fell flat on the grass ina dead faint.
Junkie at the same moment, as it were, took up the cry. To be thusrobbed of his new-found pet would have tried a better temper than his.Without a moment's hesitation he rushed at Frank Dobson and commencedviolently to kick his shins, while he soundly belaboured his knees withthe still wriggling tail of the poor snake.
"What a blessing!" exclaimed Mrs Brook, grasping Dobson gratefully bythe hand.
"What a mercy!" murmured Gertie, catching up the infant Hercules andtaking him off to the cottage.
"What a rumpus!" growled Dally, taking himself off to the kitchen.
Scholtz gave no immediate expression to his feelings, but, lifting hisbetter half from the grass, he tucked her under one of his great arms,and, with the muttered commentary, "zhe shrieckz like von mad zow,"carried her off to his own apartment, where he deluged her with coldwater and abuse till she recovered.
"Your arrival has created quite a sensation, Dobson," said Edwin Brook,with a smile, as they walked up to the house.
"Say, rather, it was opportune," said Mrs Brook; "but for your promptway of using the knife our darling might have been bitten. Oh! I dodread these snakes, they go about in such a sneaking way, and are sovery deadly. I often wonder that accidents are not more frequent,considering the numbers of them that are about."
"So do I, Mrs Brook," returned Dobson; "but I suppose it is owing tothe fact that snakes are always most anxious to keep out of man's way,and few men are as bold as your Junkie. I never heard of one beingcollared before, though a friend of mine whom I met on my last visit tothe karroo used sometimes to catch hold of a snake by the tail, whirl itround his head, and dash its brains out against a tree."
"You'll stay with us to-day, Dobson!" said Brook.
Frank, involuntarily casting a glance at the pretty face of Gertie--whohad by that time attained to the grace of early womanhood,--accepted theinvitation, and that day at dinner entertained the family with graphicaccounts of his experiences among the wild beasts of the Great FishRiver jungles, and dilated on his prospects of making a fortune bytrading in ivory. "If that foolish law,"
he said, "had not been made byour Governor, prohibiting traffic with the Kafirs, I could getwaggon-loads of elephants' tusks from them for an old song. As it is, Imust knock over the elephants for myself--at least until the laws inquestion are rescinded."
"The Governor seems to have a special aptitude," said Brook, with aclouded brow, "not only for framing foolish laws, but for abrogatinggood ones."
The Governor referred to was Lord Charles Somerset, who did more toretard the progress of the new settlements on the frontiers of Kafirlandthan any who have succeeded him. Having complicated the relations ofthe colonists and Kafirs, and confused as well as disgusted, not to sayastonished, the natives during his first term of office, he went toEngland on leave of absence, leaving Sir Rufane Shaw Donkin to act asGovernor in his place.
Lord Charles seems to have been a resentful as well as an incapable man,for immediately after his return to the colony in 1821 he overturned thepolicy of the acting Governor, simply because he and Sir Rufane were atpersonal enmity. The colony at that time, and the Home Governmentafterwards, approved of the wise measures of the latter. He hadarranged the military forces on the frontier so as to afford the newsettlers the greatest possible amount of protection; the Cape corps menhad been partly placed at their disposal, both to assist and defend;those who found their allotted farms too small, had them increased tothe extent of the farms of their Dutch neighbours; acceptable publicofficers were appointed; provisions were supplied on credit, andeverything, in short, had been done to cheer and encourage the settlersduring the period of gloom which followed their first great calamity,the failure of the wheat-crops. All this was upset on the return ofLord Charles Somerset. With a degree of tyranny and want of judgmentworthy of a mere "Jack-in-office," he immediately removed from themagistracy of the British Settlement of Albany a favourite and able man,to make room for one of his own proteges and supporters. He withdrewtroops from one of the most important frontier villages (in a strategicpoint of view), and stopped the formation of a road to it, thuscompelling the settlers to desert it and leave their standing crops tothe surprised but pleased Kafirs, who were perplexed as well asemboldened by the vacillating policy of white Governors! In addition tothis he gave permission to the savage chief Macomo to occupy the land sovacated, thus paving the way for future wars. Instead of encouragingtraffic with the Kafirs he rendered it illegal. He issued aproclamation forbidding all public meetings for political purposes; hethwarted the philanthropic and literary Pringle and Fairbairn in theirattempts to establish a newspaper, and drove the former from the colony.But why proceed? We cite these facts merely to account for the cloudon Edwin Brook's brow, and for the fact that at this time many of theBritish settlers, who would gallantly have faced the "rust" and othertroubles and difficulties sent to them by Providence, could not bear theoppression which "driveth a wise man mad," but, throwing up all theirhopes and privileges as settlers, scattered themselves far and wide overthe colony. This, as it happened, was much to the advantage ofthemselves and the old Dutch settlers with whom they mingled. Those ofthem who remained behind, however, continued to fight the battle againstoppression and circumstances most manfully.
Long and patiently did Mrs Brook listen to her visitor and husbandwhile they indignantly discussed these subjects.
"But why," said she, at last giving vent to her feelings, "why does theGovernment at home not remove such an incapable and wicked Governor andgive us a better?"
"Because, my dear," replied Edwin, with a smile, "the incapable andwicked Governor happens to possess almost despotic _power_, and can gainthe ear of men in high places at home, so that they are deceived by him,while all who venture to approach them, except through this Governor,are regarded with suspicion, being described as malcontents. And yet,"continued Brook, growing warm at the thought of his wrongs, "we do notcomplain of those at home, or of the natural disadvantages of thecountry to which we have been sent. We settlers are actuated by oneundivided feeling of respect and gratitude to the British Government,which future reverses will never efface; but it is peculiarly hard tohave been sent to this remote and inaccessible corner of the globe, andto be left to the control of one individual, who misrepresents us anddebars us the right to express our collective sentiments. Why, we mightas well be living under the dominion of the Turk. But a word in yourear, Frank Dobson; meetings _have_ been held, private ones, while youwere away in the bush, and our case _has_ been properly represented atlast, and a Royal Commission of Inquiry is to be sent out to put thingsright. So there's hope for us yet! The clouds which have been so longlowering, are, I think, beginning to clear away."
While the sanguine settler was thus referring to the clouds of adversitywhich had for more than two years hovered over the young settlement, thenatural clouds were accumulating overhead in an unusually threateningmanner. Long periods of drought are frequently followed in South Africaby terrible thunderstorms. One of them seemed to be brewing just then.
"I fear Hans and Considine will get wet jackets before they arrive,"said Frank Dobson, rising and going to the window.
"Hans and Considine!" exclaimed Gertie, with a flush; "are they here?"
"Ay, they came with me as far as Grahamstown on business of some sort.--By the way, what a big place that is becoming, quite a town! When wesaw it first, you remember, it was a mere hamlet, the headquarters ofthe troops."
"It will be a city some day," prophesied Brook as he put on an oldovercoat that had hitherto survived the ravages of time; "you see allour comrades who have discovered that farming is not their vocation arehiving off into it, and many of them, being first-rate mechanics, theyhave taken to their trades, while those with mercantile tendencies haveopened stores. You shall see that things will shake into their properplaces, and right themselves in time, and this will become a flourishingcolony, for the most of us are young and full of British pluck, whilethe climate, despite a few trifling disadvantages, is really splendid."
Edwin Brook spoke heartily, as he clapped his hat firmly on, preparatoryto going out to make things secure against the expected storm.
At the same moment the South African storm-fiend (an unusually largethough not frequently obtrusive one) laughed in a voice of thunder andnearly dashed in the windows with a tempest of wind and rain! As if hisvoice had called up spirits from the "vasty deep," two horsemen suddenlyappeared approaching at full speed. One of them was of unusual size.
"Here they come just in time!" exclaimed Gertie, clapping her hands inexcitement.
The _girl_ spoke and acted there. Then she blushed for the _woman_interfered!
Hans Marais reached the quince hedge first and sprang off his steed.Charlie Considine came second. With a wild whoop he caused his steed toleap the garden gate and dismounted at the cottage door.
Then there was a hearty welcoming and inquiring, and shaking of bands,while the travellers were congratulated on having just escaped thestorm.
While this was going on at Mount Hope, the Skyds were actively engagedin gathering in their rattle and otherwise making their place secure.They had more than once been warned that their position was one ofdanger, but being young, athletic, and rollicking, they had not caredhitherto to remove their humble dwelling. It was time enough to dothat, they said, when "lovely woman" should come on the scene and renderimprovement in domicile necessary. Bob Skyd had more than onceattempted to induce a "lovely woman" to invade the land and enlightenthe cave, but somehow without success!
"We shall have it stiff," said John, as the three brothers approachedtheir burrow.
"And heavy," added Bob.
James made no remark, but opened the door. It was growing dark at thetime and inside their cavern only a dim light prevailed.
"Why--what's--hallo! I say--"
Jim leaped back with a look of alarm. The brothers gazed in and saw, inthe region of their bed (which held three easily), a pair of glaringeyeballs.
The brothers, although not superstitious, were by no means free fromhuman w
eakness. At the same time they were gifted with a large share ofanimal courage. With beating heart John struck a light, and held up aflaming brimstone match. This caused the eyes to glare with fearfulintensity, and revealed a distinct pair of horns. At that moment thematch went out. With anxious trepidation another light was struck, andthen it was discovered that a recently purchased goat had, under a wrongimpression, taken possession of the family bed.
Laughing at this, they lit a tallow candle, which was stuck into thatmost convenient of candlesticks--an empty bottle.
The brothers, although not proficients, were mechanical in their way.One had set up the household bed; another had constructed a table, whichhad broken down only six times since their arrival; and the third hadcontrived a sofa. This last was Jim's work. It was a masterpiece inits way, of simplicity, and consisted of two rough planks laid on twomounds of earth, the whole being covered with a piece of chintz whichfell in a curtain to the floor. This curtain, like love, covered amultitude of improprieties, in the shape of old boots, dirty linen,miscellaneous articles, and a sea-chest.
Sitting down on the sofa, John Skyd laughed long and heartily at thescene with the goat. His laugh suddenly ceased, and was replaced by anexclamation and a look of anxious surprise. "Something" had moved underthe sofa! Snakes occurred to their minds at once, and the deadlycharacter of South African snakes was well known.
"Look out, boys," cried John, leaping on the sofa, and seizing a swordwhich hung on a peg just above it.--"Fetch the light."
Bob quickly obeyed and revealed the tail of a large cobra disappearingamong the improprieties. Jim ran to a rude cupboard where pistols andammunition were kept, and began to load with small shot.
"This way I hold it closer to the wall," said John, in an earnest voice;"I see one of his coils at the back of the sofa. Now then, steady--there!"
He made a deadly thrust as he spoke and pinned the snake to the ground,but evidently by the wrong coil, for in a moment its angry head was seentwining up towards the handle of the sword.
"Quick, Jim--the pistol!"
Jim was ready and Bob raised the curtain of the sofa, while John stoodin readiness to let go the sword and bolt if the reptile should prove tobe capable of reaching his hand.
"Fire, Jim, fire! look sharp!" cried John Skyd.
Jim took aim and fired. The candle was put out by the concussion.
In the dark John could risk the danger no longer. He let go the swordand sprang with a shout upon the bed. Bob and Jim made for the sameplace of refuge, and, tumbling over each other, broke the pint bottleand the candle. Securing a fragment of the latter they proceeded oncemore to strike a light, with quaking hearts, while a horrible hissingand lashing was heard under the sofa. At last light was again thrown onthe scene, and when the curtain was cautiously raised the cobra was seento be writhing in its death-agonies--riddled with shot, and still pinnedwith the sword.
This scene closed most appropriately with a flash of lightning and atremendous clap of thunder,--followed, immediately, by cataracts ofrain.