CHAPTER THREE.

  EANSWYTH.

  Anta's Kloof--such was the name of Tom Carhayes' farm--was situated onthe very edge of the Gaika location. This was unfortunate, because itsowner got on but poorly with his barbarous neighbours. They, for theirpart, bore him no good will either.

  The homestead comprised a comfortable stone dwelling in one story. Ahigh _stoep_ and veranda ran round three sides of it, commanding a wideand lovely view of rolling plains and mimosa sprinkled kloofs, for thehouse was built on rising ground. Behind, as a background, a few milesdistant, rose the green spurs of the Kabousie Heights. A gradual ascentof a few hundred feet above the house afforded a splendid view of therugged and table-topped Kei Hills. And beyond these, on the right, theplains of Gcalekaland, with the blue smoke rising from many a clusteringkraal. Yet soft and peaceful as was the landscape, there was little ofpeace just then in the mind of its inhabitants, white or brown, for thesavages were believed to be in active preparation for war, for aconcerted and murderous outbreak on a large scale, involving arepetition of the massacres of isolated and unprepared settlers such ascharacterised similar risings on former occasions; the last, then,happily, a quarter of a century ago.

  Nearer, nearer to his western bed, dipped the sinking sun, throwing outlong slanting darts of golden rays ere bringing to a close, in a floodof effulgent glory, the sweet African spring day. They fell on theplacid surface of the dam, lying below in the kloof, causing it to shinelike a sea of quicksilver. They brought out the vivid green of thewillows, whose feathery boughs drooped upon the cool water. Theyblended with the soft, restful cooing of ring doves, swaying upon many amimosa spray, or winging their way swiftly from the mealie lands totheir evening roost and they seemed to impart a blithe gladsomeness tothe mellow shout of the hoopoe, echoing from the cool shade of yonderrugged and bush-clad kloof.

  Round the house a dozen or so tiny ostrich chicks were picking at theground, or disputing the possession of some unexpected dainty with atribe of long-legged fowls. Quaint enough they looked, these little,fluffy balls, with their bright eyes, and tawny, spotted necks; frailenough, too, and apt to come off badly at the spur or beak of anytruculent rooster who should resent their share of the plunderaforesaid. Nominally they are under the care of a small Kafir boy, butthe little black rascal--his master being absent and his mistress softhearted--prefers the congenial associations of yonder group of beehivehuts away there behind the sheep kraals, and the fun of buildingminiature kraals with mud and three or four boon companions, so theostrich chicks are left to herd themselves. But the volleying boom oftheir male parent, down there in the great enclosure, rolls out loudlyenough on the evening air, and the huge bird may be described in all theglory of his jet and snowy plumage, with inflated throat, rearinghimself to his full height, rolling his fiery eye in search of anadversary.

  And now the flaming rays of the sinking sun have given place to asofter, mellower light, and the red afterglow is merging into the pearlygrey of evening. The hillside is streaked with the dappled hides ofcattle coming up the kloof, and many a responsive low greets theclamourous voices of the calves, shut up in the calf _hoek_, hungry andexpectant. Then upon the ridge comes a white, moving mass of fleecybacks. It streams down the slope, raising a cloud of dust--guided, kepttogether, by an occasional kerrie deftly thrown to the right or left--and soon arrives at its nightly fold. But the herd is nonplussed, forthere is no _Baas_ there to count in. He pauses a moment, looks around,then drives the sheep into the kraal, and having secured the gate,throws his red kaross around him and stalks away to the huts.

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  Eanswyth Carhayes stood on the _stoep_, looking out for the return ofher husband and cousin. She was very tall for a woman, her erectcarriage causing her to appear even taller. And she was very beautiful.The face, with its straight, thoroughbred features, was one of thosewhich, at first sight, conveyed an impression of more than ordinaryattractiveness, and this impression further acquaintance never failed todevelop into a realisation of its rare loveliness. Yet by no means amere animal or flower-like beauty. There was character in the stronglymarked, arching brows, and in the serene, straight glance of the large,grey eyes. Further, there was indication that their owner would not belacking in tact or fixity of purpose; two qualities usually found handin hand. Her hair, though dark, was many shades removed from black, andof it she possessed a more than bountiful supply.

  She came of a good old Colonial family, but had been educated inEngland. Well educated, too; thanks to which salutary storing of a mindeagerly open to culture, many an otherwise dull and unoccupied hour ofher four years of married life--frequently left, as she was, alone for awhole day at a time--was turned to brightness. Alone? Yes, for she waschildless.

  When she had married bluff, hot-tempered Tom Carhayes, who was nearlyfifteen years her senior, and had gone to live on a Kaffrarian stockfarm, her acquaintance unanimously declared she had "thrown herselfaway." But whether this was so or not, certain it is that Eanswythherself evinced no sort of indication to that effect, and indeed morethan one of the aforesaid acquaintance eventually came to envy her calm,cheerful contentment. To the expression of which sentiment she wouldreply with a quiet smile that she supposed she was cut out for a"blue-stocking," and that the restful seclusion, not to say monotony, ofher life, afforded her ample time for indulging her studious tastes.

  After three years her husband's cousin had come to live with them.Eustace Milne, who was possessed of moderate means, had devoted the fewyears subsequent on leaving college to "seeing the world," and it mustbe owned he had managed to see a good deal of it in the time. Buttiring eventually of the process, he had made overtures to his cousin toenter into partnership with the latter in his stock-farming operations.Carhayes, who at that time had been somewhat unlucky, having been hardhit by a couple of very bad seasons, and thinking moreover that thepresence in the house of his cousin, whom he knew and rather liked,would make life a little more cheerful for Eanswyth, agreed, andforthwith Eustace had sailed for the Cape. He had put a fair amount ofcapital into the concern and more than a fair amount of energy, and atthis time the operations of the two men were flourishing exceedingly.

  We fear that--human nature being the same all the world over, even inthat sparsely inhabited locality--there were not wanting some--not manyit is true, but still some--who saw in the above arrangement somethingto wag a scandalous tongue over. Carhayes was a prosaic and rathercrusty personage, many years older than his wife. Eustace Milne wasjust the reverse of this, being imaginative, cultured, even tempered,and, when he chose, of very attractive manner; moreover, he was butthree or four years her senior. Possibly the rumour evolved itself fromthe disappointment of its originators, as well as from the insatiableand universal love of scandal-mongering inherent in human nature, forEustace Milne was eminently an eligible _parti_, and during nearly ayear's residence at Anta's Kloof had shown no disposition to throw thehandkerchief at any of the surrounding fair. But to Carhayes, whomthanks to his known proclivity towards punching heads this rumour neverreached, no such nice idea occurred, for with all his faults or failingsthere was nothing mean or crooked-minded about the man, and as forEanswyth herself, we should have been uncommonly sorry to have stood inthe shoes of the individual who should undertake to enlighten her of thesame, by word or hint.

  As she stood there watching for the return of those who came not,Eanswyth began to feel vaguely uneasy, and there was a shade of anxietyin the large grey eyes, which were bent upon the surrounding _veldt_with a now growing intensity. The return of the flock, combined withthe absence of its master to count in, was not a reassuringcircumstance. She felt inclined to send for the herd and question him,but after all it was of no use being silly about it. She noted furtherthe non-appearance of the other flock. This, in conjunction with theprolonged absence of her husband and cousin, made her fear thatsomething had gone very wrong indeed.
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  Nor was her uneasiness altogether devoid of justification. We have saidthat Tom Carhayes was not on the best of terms with his barbarousneighbours. We have shown moreover that his choleric disposition waseminently calculated to keep him in chronic hot water. Such was indeedthe case. Hardly a week passed that he did not come into collision withthem, more or less violently, generally on the vexed question oftrespass, and crossing his farm accompanied by their dogs. More thanone of these dogs had been shot by him on such occasions, and when wesay that a Kafir loves his dog a trifle more dearly than his children,it follows that the hatred which they cherished towards this imperiousand high-handed settler will hardly bear exaggeration. But Carhayes wasa powerful man and utterly fearless, and although these qualities had sofar availed to save his life, the savages were merely biding their time.Meanwhile they solaced themselves with secret acts of revenge. Athoroughbred horse would be found dead in the stable, a valuable cowwould be stabbed to death in the open _veldt_, or a fine, full-grownostrich would be discovered with a shattered leg and all itswing-feathers plucked, sure sign, the latter, that the damage was due tono accident. These acts of retaliation had generally followed within afew days of one of the broils above alluded to, but so far fromintimidating Carhayes, their only effect was to enrage him the more. Hevowed fearful and summary vengeance against the perpetrators, should heever succeed in detecting them. He even went boldly to the principalGaika chiefs and laid claim to compensation. But those magnates werethe last men in the world to side with, or to help him. Some wereexcessively civil, others indifferent, but all disclaimed anyresponsibility in the matter.

  Bearing these facts in mind there was, we repeat, every excuse forEanswyth's anxiety. But suddenly a sigh of relief escaped her. Thetramp of hoofs reaching her ears caused her to turn, and there,approaching the house from a wholly unexpected direction, came the twofamiliar mounted figures.