CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
TREATS OF VARIOUS STRANGE INCIDENTS, SOME INTERESTING MATTERS, AND ARESCUE.
While the emigrant farmers were thus gallantly defending themselves, theparty under Hans Marais and Charlie Considine was hastening on theirspoor to the rescue.
Their numbers had been increased by several volunteers, among whom wereGeorge Dally and Scholtz, also David, Jacob, and Hendrik, the sons ofJan Smit, who had made up their minds not to follow the fortunes oftheir savage-tempered sire, but who were at once ready to fly to hisrescue on learning that he was in danger. While passing through thecountry they were further reinforced by a band of stout burghers, and byfour brothers named Bowker. There were originally seven brothers ofthis family, who afterwards played a prominent part in the affairs ofthe colony. One of these Bowkers was noted for wearing a very tallwhite hat, in which, being of a literary turn of mind, he delighted tocarry old letters and newspapers. From this circumstance his hat becameknown as "the post-office."
Although small, this was about as heroic a band of warriors as ever tookthe field--nearly every man being strong, active, a dead shot welltrained to fight with wild beasts, and acquainted with the tactics ofwilder men.
Proceeding by forced marches, they soon drew near to that part of thecountry where the beleaguered farmers lay.
One evening, having encamped a little earlier than usual, owing to thecircumstance of their having reached a fountain of clear good water,some of the more energetic among them went off to search for game.Among these were the brothers Bowker.
"There's very likely a buffalo or something in that bush over there,"said Septimus Bowker, who was the owner of the "post-office" hat."Come, Mr Considine, you wanted to--Where's Considine?"
Every one looked round, but Considine and Hans were not there. One ofthe Skyds, however, remembered that they had fallen behind half an hourbefore, with the intention of procuring something fresh for supper.
"Well, we must go without him. He wanted to shoot a buffalo. Will noone else go?"
No one else felt inclined to go except Junkie Brook, so he and the fourBowkers went off, Septimus pressing the "post-office" tightly on hisbrows as they galloped away.
They had not far to go, game of all kinds being abundant in that region,but instead of finding a buffalo or gnu, they discovered a lioness in abed of rushes. The party had several dogs with them, and these wentyelping into the rushes, while the brothers stationed themselves on amound, standing in a row, one behind another.
The brother with the tall white hat stood in front. Being the eldest,he claimed the post of honour. They were all fearless men and crackshots. Junkie was ordered to stand back, and complied with a bad grace,being an ardent sportsman.
"Look out!" exclaimed the brother in front to the brothers in rear.
"Ready!" was the quiet response.
Next moment out came the lioness with a savage growl, and went straightat Septimus, who cocked his gun as coolly as if he were about to slay asparrow.
While the enraged animal was in the act of bounding, Septimus firedstraight down its throat and suddenly stooped. By so doing he saved hishead. Perhaps we should say the tall white hat saved it, for thecrushing slap which the lioness meant to give him on the side of thehead took effect on the post-office, and scattered its contents far andwide. Spurning Septimus on the shoulders with her hind-legs as she flewpast, the lioness made at the brothers. Firm as the Horatii stood theother three. Deliberate and cool was their action as they took aim.Junkie followed suit, and the whole fired a volley, which laid thelioness dead at their feet.
Gathering himself up, Septimus looked with some concern at the white hatbefore putting it on. Remarking that it was tough, he proceeded to pickup its literary contents, while his brothers skinned the lioness.Shortly afterwards they all returned to camp.
Passing that way an hour or so later, Hans Marais and Charlie Considinecame upon the spoor of the lioness.
"I say, Charlie," called out Hans, "there must be a lion in the vleythere. I've got the spoor. Come here."
"It's not in the vley now," replied Charlie; "come here yourself; I'vefound blood, and, hallo! here's a newspaper! Why, it must be a literarylion! Look, Hans, can you make out the name?--Howker, Dowker, orsomething o' that sort. Do lions ever go by that name?"
"Bowker," exclaimed Hans, with a laugh. "Ah! my boy, there's no lion inthe vley if the Bowkers have been here; and see, it's all plain as apikestaff. They shot it here and skinned it there, and have dragged thecarcass towards that bush; yes, here it is--a lioness. They're back tocamp by this time. Come, let's follow them."
As they rode along, Hans, who had been glancing at the newspaper, turnedsuddenly to his companion.
"I say, Charlie, here's a strange coincidence. It's not every day thata man finds a _Times_ newspaper in the wilds of Southern Africa with amessage in it to himself."
"What do you mean, Hans?"
"Tell me, Charlie, about that uncle of whom you once spoke to me--longago--in rather disrespectful tones, if not terms. Was he rich?"
"I believe so, but was never quite certain as to that."
"Did he like you?"
"I rather think not."
"Had you a male cousin or relative of the same name with yourself whomhe _did_ like?"
"Then allow me to congratulate you on your good fortune, and read that,"said Hans, giving him the newspaper.
Charlie read.
"If this should meet the eye of Charles Considine, formerly of GoldenSquare, Hotchester, he is requested to return without delay to England,or to communicate with Aggard, Ale, and Ixley, Solicitors, 23aFitzbustaway Square, London."
"Most amazing!" exclaimed Considine, after a pause, "and there can be nodoubt it refers to me, for these were my uncle's solicitors--mostagreeable men--who gave me the needful to fit me out, and it was theirchief clerk--a Roman-nosed jovial sort of fellow, named Rundle somethingor other--who accompanied me to the ship when I left, and wished me apleasant voyage, with a tear, or a drop of rain, I'm not sure which,rolling down his Roman nose. Well, but, as I said before, isn't it anastonishing coincidence?"
"It wasn't you who said that before, it was I," returned Hans, "but wemust make allowance for your state of mind. And now, as we're nearingthe camp, what is it to be--silence?"
"Silence, of course," said Charlie. "There's no fear of Bowker readingthe advertisements through, he has far too much literary taste for that,and even if he did, he's not likely to stumble on this one. So let's besilent."
There was anything but silence in the camp, however, when the friendsreached it and reported their want of luck; for the warriors were thenin the first fervour of appealing their powerful appetites.
Next morning they started at sunrise.
Early in the day they came on the mangled remains of the emigrantfarmers before referred to. At first it was supposed this must be theremnant of the band they were in search of, but a very brief examinationconvinced them, experienced as they were in men and signs, that it wasanother band. Soon after, they came in sight of the party for whichthey were searching, just as the Kafirs were making a renewed attack.Already a few volleys had been fired by the Dutchmen, the smoke of whichhung like a white shroud over the camp, and swarms of savages wereyelling round it.
"The cattle and flocks have been swept away," growled Frank Dobson.
"But the women and children must be safe as yet," said Considine, with asigh of relief.
"Now, boys," cried Hans, who had been elected captain, "we must acttogether. When I give the word, halt and fire like one man, and thencharge where I lead you. Don't scatter. Don't give way to impetuousfeelings. Be under command, if you would save our friends."
He spoke with quick, abrupt vigour, and waited for no reply or remark,but, putting himself where he fancied a leader should be, in front ofthe centre of his little line, set off in the direction of theemigrants' camp at a smart gallop. As the horsemen drew near theyincreased
their pace, and then a yell from the savages, and a cheer fromtheir friends, told that they had been observed by the combatants onboth sides. The Kafirs were seen running back to the ridge on the otherside of the camp, and assembling themselves hurriedly in a dense mass.
On swept the line of stalwart burghers, over the plain and down into thehollow in dead silence. The force of their leader's character seemed tohave infused military discipline into them. Most of them kept boot toboot like dragoons. Even Dally and Scholtz kept well in line, and nonelagged or shot ahead. As they passed close to the camp without drawingrein, the Dutchmen gave them an enthusiastic cheer, but no reply wasmade, save by Junkie, who could not repress a cry of fierce delight.Down deeper into the hollow they went, and up the opposite slope,--thethunder of their tread alone breaking the stillness.
"Halt!" cried the leader in a deep loud voice.
They drew up together almost as well as they had run. Next moment everyman was on the ground and down on one knee; then followed the roar oftheir pieces, and a yell of wild fury told that none had missed hismark. Before the smoke had risen a yard they were again in the saddle.No further order was given. Hans charged; the rest followed like a wallat racing speed, with guns and bridles grasped in their left hands andsabres drawn in their right.
The savages did not await the onset. They turned, scattered, and fled.Many were overtaken and cut down. The Dutchmen sallied from the campand joined in the pursuit. The Kafirs were routed completely, and allthe cattle and flocks were recovered.
That same day there was a hot discussion over the camp-fires as towhether the emigrant farmers should return at once to the colony or waituntil they should gather together some of the other parties of emigrantswhich were known to have crossed the frontier. At last it was resolvedto adopt the latter course, but the wives and families were to be sentback to Fort Wilshire under the escort of their deliverers, there toremain till better times should dawn.
"Charlie," said Conrad Marais, as he walked up and down with his friend,"I must stick by my party, but I can trust you and Hans. You'll becareful of the women and little ones."
"You may depend on us," replied Considine, with emphasis.
"And you needn't be afraid to speak to Bertha by the way," said Conrad,with a peculiar side glance.
Charlie looked up quickly with a flush.
"Do you mean, sir, that--that--"
"Of course I do," cried the stout farmer, grasping his friend by thehand; "I forgive your being an Englishman, Charlie, and as I can't makeyou a Dutchman, the next best I can do for you is to give you a Dutchwife, who is in my opinion better and prettier than any English girlthat ever lived."
"Hold!" cried Considine, returning the grasp, "I will not join you inmaking invidious comparisons between Dutch and English; but I'll gofarther than you, and say that Bertha is in my opinion the best andprettiest girl in the whole world."
"That'll do, lad, that'll do. So, now, we'll go see what the Tottieshave managed to toss us up for breakfast."
Before the sun set that night the emigrant farmers, united with anotherlarge band, were entrenched in a temporary stronghold, and the women andchildren, with the rescue party--strengthened by a company of huntersand traders who had been in the interior when the war broke out, werefar on their way back to Fort Wilshire.