my father had lived, he would certainly have gone down first."
"No, pater," urged Tom; "I'm the lighter of the two. Let me go. It will
be safer."
"Well, on the whole," said Mr. Blakeney, smiling at their enthusiasm, "I
think Poeskop had better go first. His claims are undeniable. His
weight is about two and a half stone less than either, and he was the
first of us to set eyes on the kloof. Let him go."
"Very well," said Guy.--"Poeskop, you go first, and I'll follow."
They had fastened the top end of the ladder with the greatest care to a
sturdy wild olive tree which grew there. They had taken the utmost
precaution to guard against any chafing at the edge of the cliff, and,
to strengthen the ladder yet more, had added two extra pieces of hide to
the side-supports for thirty feet from the end where it was fastened to
the tree. All being prepared, Poeskop, with his carbine slung to his
back, put his foot on the first rung of the ladder, and began the
descent. The little man had not an atom of fear in his composition, and
he went down steadily, hand under hand, with the greatest composure.
The rope and hide structure bore his weight easily. There was no
strain, and it was evident that the great care which Mr. Blakeney had
bestowed on the making had not been thrown away.
At last, after what to the watchers at the top seemed an interminable
length of time, the Bushman reached the foot. Stepping out from under
the base of the cliff to a spot where he could see his masters, he waved
his hat and called out in English, "All right."
"Now then, it's my turn," cried Guy.
"All right," said his uncle. "Away you go. But take care. Don't be in
a hurry."
Stepping over the edge of the precipice, and hanging on firmly with
either hand, Guy went briskly down. It seemed a rather fearsome height;
but the lad had a cool head and had been an expert climber, scaling many
a lofty tree in search of hawks', rooks', and carrion crows' eggs.
Still, more than three parts of the way down, as the cliff sheered
inward and the ladder hung dangling in mid-air, it was none too
pleasant. The task was presently accomplished, however, and Guy stood
by Poeskop's side. Next came Tom, and after him Mr. Blakeney, Seleti
and September remaining at the top to look after things and guard the
end.
"My word," said Mr. Blakeney, as he set foot on the ground with a sigh
of relief, "that's one of the nastiest jobs I ever tackled. I was never
much of a climber as a boy, and I didn't quite realize what such a
descent was like until I was ten paces over the cliff and looked
downward. It's more the sort of game for rock rabbits and lizards than
for a douce, middle-aged man."
"Never mind, pater," said Tom, who had slipped down the ladder with the
ease of a lamplighter, "you'll soon get used to it. After another
ascent and descent you'll think nothing of it."
"Don't you make any mistake, my boy," retorted his father. "It's very
easy for a light, limber lad like you to get down that ladder. You'll
find it a vastly different job getting up. Four hundred and twenty feet
of rope-ladder _upwards_ is a stiff task, and you'll find yourself not
so keen to do it very often--I'm convinced of that fact."
All four now being safely landed at the bottom of the kloof, the
question which instantly absorbed their attention was, Where was the
gold? Poeskop led the way, and, walking swiftly, at a pace certainly
exceeding four miles an hour, they hastened towards the far end of the
valley.
"Hullo!" cried Tom, as a handsome little reddish antelope, spotted and
lined with white, bounded away from one patch of bush to another.
"Bushbuck, by all that's wonderful! We've seen pallah. I wonder what
other kind of game is shut up in this kloof."
Almost as the words came out of his mouth he was answered, for a
magnificent bull koodoo strolled out of a thorn grove by the river a
hundred yards away, and, with a family party of hornless cows and young
animals, stood staring at the intruders, who now in their turn halted to
gaze at the spectacle.
"You beauties!" said Mr. Blakeney enthusiastically. "It seems a shame
almost to intrude upon you! And, indeed, we won't shoot here unless we
are absolutely driven to it. It's a place of enchantment, and we ought
not to bring death here if we can help it."
Forward they went again. After walking twenty minutes, Poeskop crossed
the river at a shallow ford where a sandbank ran out into the stream,
and stopping, said, "Baas, I think we shall find the gelt here."
*Chapter XVI.*
*GATHERING GOLD.*
Instantly they all set to work with a feverish intensity which almost
surprised themselves. Poeskop was hunting about on the big spit of sand
and shingle, quartering the surface very much as a pointer quarters its
ground in search of game. In less than five minutes he had found what
he expected, and, holding up between his right finger and thumb a
flattish object, which shone perceptibly in the strong sunlight,
exclaimed,--
"_Here so, baas! Here is de gelt!_"
One and all of the trio searching near him forsook their task and rushed
up to him. Mr. Blakeney took the piece of metal from the Bushman's
outstretched hand. It was a flattish nugget, pale yellow in colour,
smooth and rounded as to its edges, manifestly much water-worn, and
measuring about three inches in length by one in breadth. He examined
it very closely, weighed it in his open palm, and said quietly,--
"Yes, that's gold, right enough. Where that came from there ought to be
lots more. Guy, I congratulate you. We have accomplished our object,
and I think the search is likely to be a very profitable one." Then,
glancing at Poeskop's delighted expression, he added in Dutch, "Well
done, Poeskop; you were quite right. The gold is here. We must now set
to work and find all we can. I suppose there's plenty of it?"
"_Banje_ [plenty]!" replied the Bushman, his odd yellow face expanded
into the widest grin of which it was capable. "_Banje!_"
"Well, now," said Mr. Blakeney, "what we have to do is to explore this
place carefully and systematically. To-day, and for the next week, we'll
go over the surface and work our way upstream towards the ravine at the
head of the kloof. When we've gone over the surface, we'll set to work
with pick and shovel, and wash the gravel and soil. We shall have to
knock up some kind of cradle, but I know how to do that. I was on the
Lydenburg alluvial fields, in the Eastern Transvaal, in 1875, and saw a
good deal of rough mining. I knew at once that this was a real gold
nugget. We'll have a test at the wagon to-night, but I haven't the
least doubt in the world that this nugget, which weighs about four
ounces, is the genuine metal. That, at L3, 15s. per ounce, means
L15--not by any means a bad result for about five minutes' work."
"Splendid, pater!" put in Tom enthusiastically. "Why, I feel like a
millionaire already." As he spoke, he was turning over some gravel with
the tip of his boot. "Hullo!" he said, suddenly stooping and picking up
something small and bright. "Here's another!"
And so in truth it was. Tom's nugget was smaller than that found by
Poeskop, and was rounder in shape. But a nugget it was, of pure gold,
free from any trace of quartz, and weighing about an ounce and a half;
and the party were proportionately delighted. They now set to work,
and, arming themselves with sticks, cut from the neighbouring bush, for
the purpose of turning over the gravel, hunted with minute care over the
big spit and in the clear shallows of the stream flowing by. By twelve
o'clock, when they knocked off for half an hour's rest, and ate some
lunch under the grateful shade of an adjacent acacia tree, they had all
been more or less lucky. Poeskop had gathered up nine nice nuggets of
varying size. Next to him Guy had been most successful, having picked
up seven; while Mr. Blakeney and Tom followed with five each.
"I'm going to keep my best nugget and give it to mother, to make a
brooch or a bracelet of," said Tom, as he dived into his pockets and
examined his spoil.
"All right, Tom," added Guy; "I'll do the same by Ella. There's a fine
nugget, which ought to make her a real good necklet."
"And I'll provide for Marjory," said Mr. Blakeney, laughing at the lads'
eagerness. "But where does Arthur come in?"
"Oh, I'll look after Arthur," said Tom. "I feel such a bloated
capitalist that I can provide for anybody. There," he went on,
selecting a good nugget, "is Arthur's _dot_ or dowry, or whatever you
like to call it."
Lunch over, and Mr. Blakeney's pipe finished, they went to work again.
From half-past twelve till three o'clock they steadily pursued their
investigations. At two o'clock the greatest and most amazing discovery
of the day was made by Guy. While turning over some gravel, just at the
edge of the stream, he came upon what he took to be a submerged, rounded
stone, of which there were plenty scattered about the bed and edges of
the rivulet. In trying to push this out of its cradle of sand and
gravel he found it unexpectedly heavy. At last he shifted it from the
soil in which it lay, and lifted it out. Its weight astonished him.
Suddenly a thought flashed across his mind. He whipped his
hunting-knife from the sheath, and scraped away a coating of what looked
like rusty soil which covered it. Then, cutting into the stone, a
streak of bright yellow showed instantly. The lump was solid gold. His
shouts brought the rest of the party running up to him.
"Here's something like a nugget!" said the lad, with flushed face.
"Look, uncle, it's gold right enough; and it weighs, I should think, at
least ten pounds. It's certainly the weight of a light pair of
dumb-bells!"
Mr. Blakeney stooped and picked up the stone, and carefully examined it.
Then, taking out his knife, he cut into it as Guy had done. Again there
showed a streak of bright yellow.
"Yes, that's gold right enough," he said, in answer to Guy's intense
look; "and it must weigh well over ten pounds. I see there's just a
thin skin, apparently of quartz, on one side. Deduct, say, a couple of
pounds for that and quartz further inside, and you have something like
eight or nine pounds of virgin gold. A magnificent find, indeed! I
congratulate you, Guy, with all my heart."
Leaving the big nugget, they worked till three, and then knocked off for
the day. The occupation was so exciting, so entrancing a one, that it
was difficult to tear themselves away. But, as Mr. Blakeney pointed
out, they had the climb out of the kloof before them, and an hour's walk
to camp, and they would scarcely reach the wagon much before sunset.
The valley, as they walked down it on their way to the ladder, looked
marvellously fair. Flights of wild duck, geese, widgeon, and teal flew
up and down stream. A big troop of guinea-fowl, at least fifty or sixty
strong, was making its way to some favourite roosting-place; the sharp,
metallic cry of the various members of the flock, calling to one
another, sounded curiously resonant in this rock-engirdled kloof. Many
birds of lovely plumage flitted hither and thither; occasionally a small
steinbuck, duyker, or bushbuck would dart away in front of them. The
flowers and flowering shrubs starring the green of the kloof and
climbing the cliffsides added not a little to the beauty of the scene.
"What a lovely spot, uncle!" said Guy, as they marched steadily forward.
"I feel almost as if I should like to throw up gold-digging, and settle
for life in such a paradise."
"I'm afraid, Guy," replied his uncle, "you would soon grow tired of the
place. It's very beautiful, certainly; but it's mighty lonely. And you
would have a rare business to keep yourself supplied with even the bare
necessaries of life. Think of the long trek from Mossamedes--six weeks'
travel before your tea and coffee, and sugar and other small luxuries,
can reach you. Take my word for it. No one has enjoyed the life of the
hunter and explorer more than I have done. I knocked about, as you
know, for years in South Africa before I settled down. After a time,
even the most inveterate wanderer begins to sigh for rest and some of
the comforts of civilization. I speak of what I know. I dislike town
life; and the huddling together of huge populations, with an immense
deal of misery for two-thirds of the poorer folk, is to me absolutely
hateful. I believe the system, for which machinery is largely
answerable, is absolutely wrong, and will lead to untold misfortunes to
the so-called civilized nations in the future, if persisted in. But on
the other hand, fascinating as is the life of the wilderness for a
time--say a year or two at a spell--you would become weary of it if you
had to settle down in such a place as this, fair though it is, for the
rest of your existence. The fact is, mankind is to a great extent
gregarious, and you would want some kind of company as an occasional
relief from the monotony of too much solitude."
"Besides," broke in Tom, who had been listening quietly to his father's
ideas, "I should say this kloof, jolly as it looks, would be pretty
feverish--wouldn't it, pater?--especially after the rains."
"Yes, Tom; I think it would. This country is a good deal nearer the
equator than British Bechuanaland, which I take to be the healthiest
part of South Africa; and where you get the combination of moisture and
heat you are bound to have fever. That reminds me, we shall have to
look after our health on the homeward trek. The rains haven't fairly
set in yet, but they will soon, and I shall have to put you fellows on a
course of quinine. I don't want to take you home mere pallid spectres,
like men who have been suffering from Zambesi fever."
They reached the rope-ladder at length, and then began the upward climb.
As Mr. Blakeney had warned them, the ascent was a very different matter
from the journey down. For the first fifty feet or so, as the ladder
swung and swayed in empty air, it was by no means pleasant progression;
and by the time they had reached the top, all were out of breath and
exhausted.
"My word, pater!" gasped Tom, as he threw himself on the ground and lay
panting. "Shall we have to do this often? It's a beast of a climb, and
our gold will be jolly hardly won if we're to have much of this sort of
thing."
Mr. Blakeney sat up. Evidently he was thinking hard.
"Well," he said, "it is a terribly tough, as well as a very nasty,
climb. I for one don't want to attempt it very often. It's worse than
I bargained for. I think we'll have to camp in the kloof till we've
finished our gold search."
Poeskop, who had stayed behind to make the ends of the ladder fast to
two stout bushes which grew near the foot, and so prevent the unpleasant
oscillation of the last fifty odd feet, now made his appearance. The
sight of his queer little sharp-chinned face (now streaming from the
toil of the climb), as it appeared over the edge of the cliff, sent Guy
and Tom, and indeed Mr. Blakeney himself, into fits of laughter, to
which the good-humoured Bushman freely responded.
"What ho! Poeskop!" cried Tom; adding in Dutch, "How do you like the
climb?"
"Hard work, Baas Tom," responded Poeskop cheerily, as he squatted on his
hams to rest, and wiped the sweat from his face with his usual
handkerchief, a jackal's tail. "But I've seen harder jobs even than
this. If you had lived the life of a wild Bushman, as I did till I was
a grown man, you'd soon understand that a day like this is mere child's
play. Nowadays I know that I get two good meals every single day of my
life, rain or shine. When I was a lad the great puzzle of my life was
to find or catch food at all. When your skorf comes to you as easily as
it does to me now, a day's work is just nothing at all. Why, baas, as a
lad of ten or twelve, I've travelled three days at a stretch, fifty
miles a day, without food or water, and thought nothing much about it."
"Yes," said Tom reflectively; "I quite see your point. A hard day's work
to a well-fed, healthy man, who gets his breakfast and dinner 'regular,'
is a mere healthy exercise canter. Still, Poeskop, it was a tough
climb, eh?"
"Ja, baas," responded the Bushman, grinning; "but think of what you have
in your pockets."
Tom looked down at his breeches pockets, bulging with nuggets, and
roared with laughter.
"Quite so, Poeskop," he said; "it's worth it all."
They now started with Seleti and September, who had spent a quiet and
perfectly uneventful day at the cliff top, and made their way rapidly
down to the wagon. There, after their supper, they turned to their
treasure, which meanwhile reposed in a Kaffir blanket, and Mr. Blakeney,
having got out his scales, began to estimate the value of the day's
find. Altogether, not counting Guy's big nugget, which they christened
"Poeskop's Pride," they had gathered forty-nine nuggets, giving a total
weight of ninety-eight ounces. This amount of gold, at the value of L3,
15s. per ounce, would figure out therefore at a total of L367. These
nuggets, varying in size and weight from a pea to more than five ounces,
had scarcely any indication of quartz or other extraneous substance
about them, and were manifestly nearly all pure and solid metal.
Deducting L17 for wastage, Mr. Blakeney estimated their value at not
less than L350.
Then came Guy's monster nugget to be dealt with. It weighed exactly
twelve pounds ten ounces. At a liberal estimate the thin coating of
quartz running down one side, and other impurities with which it was
coated, could not possibly exceed two pounds. This would leave a weight
of gold of nine pounds ten ounces, or, reduced to ounces, one hundred
and eighteen ounces. At L3, 15s. per ounce, then, "Poeskop's Pride" was
worth L442 at the least. Adding this sum to the L350, the value of the
smaller nuggets, a total of L792 would represent the value of the day's
work.
"Not by any means a bad day's work, even for four hard-working men like
ourselves," said Mr. Blakeney, with a smile, as he looked round at his
audience--the two lads and Poeskop.
"I should think not, indeed," added Guy.
Mr. Blakeney now went to the wagon, and produced a bottle of champagne
which, with five others, he had brought for such high occasions as the
present; and as medicine, if occasion needed. Opening the bottle--it
was Giesler 'eighty-nine, a first-rate brand--he poured out a tot all
round in the _kommetjes_, or little earthenware basins, used by the
Boers and most up-country trekkers for coffee. Then they pledged one
another, and drank to the complete success of the expedition. Poeskop,
as pioneer of the grand discovery, was served out with a drink of the
same excellent liquor. He had never tasted or even seen champagne
before, and the effervescing wine, getting into his broad nostrils, set
him off in so violent a fit of sneezing that he upset the remainder of
his tot.
"My baas," he said presently, after he had somewhat recovered, "I don't
think I like this medicine. It is not so good as 'pain-killer' [a drug
beloved of all African natives], and I would much rather have a _soupje_
of Cango brandwein."
The Bushman's struggles with his champagne, and his plaintive speech
after the mishap, were received with much laughter.
"All right, Poeskop," said Mr. Blakeney, "you shall have the Cango."
Going to the locker of the wagon, he brought out a bottle of the good
Cape brandy of that name, and, pouring out a dram, handed it to the
Bushman. Poeskop, smacking his broad lips over this liquor, was at once
satisfied, and expressed himself as more than well pleased at the
exchange. The rest of the men were, in honour of the evening, also each
served out with a tot of the same spirit. At ten o'clock a merry
evening beneath the stars came to an end, and all sought their resting
places.
Next morning Mr. Blakeney announced his intention of trying to get the
wagon up to the cliff, near where they had let down the rope-ladder. It
would be a hard and difficult trek, and some trees and bush would have
to be cut down. But he had carefully surveyed the ascent by which they
reached the place, and he thought it could be accomplished. His chief
reason for getting the wagon up was, that he disliked very greatly the
idea of maintaining two separate camps at some distance apart from each
other. He knew that it was by no means improbable that Karl
Engelbrecht, and any allies he might get together, would make another
attack on them. A strong camp might be formed near the ladder. There
was a fountain in the hill close by; and it would be much more
convenient to load the wagon there than to have to carry every ounce of
gold they won each day down to their present camping ground.
All parties, including Poeskop and the other native servants, heartily
approved of the scheme; and the whole of that day, therefore, was spent
in clearing a road up the long and steep mountain ascent, over the nek,
and on to the plateau overlooking the Gold Kloof. Next day they
inspanned the oxen, now much refreshed and recruited by their rest and
good feeding, and ascended the long mountain slope. It was, as Mr.
Blakeney had anticipated, a tough trek, but it was accomplished. They
passed the nek, gained the plateau, and made a permanent camp within a
hundred yards of the cliff edge overlooking the Gold Kloof. The
position was an excellent one against attack. Their rear rested against
the base of a mountain peak above them; they had a secure water supply;
and any assault delivered against them must be made across the open
plateau. There was plenty of good grazing for the cattle and horses
among the long grass which here covered the plateau. Occasionally the
oxen were taken down to the valley, where they had first outspanned, for
change of diet. At night they were kraaled in a strong thorn scherm,
which effectually protected them against the raids of leopards, lions,
or other Carnivora.
This matter having been arranged satisfactorily, the gold-seekers turned
their attention entirely to the work of denuding the kloof of as much of
its treasure as they could find and make their own within a given time.
For three days they descended the ladder at early morning, climbing up
to their camp each night with loads of gold. But the labour entailed in
this process seemed so great and so unnecessary, that Mr. Blakeney
finally made up his mind to take down food and necessaries for a week,
and camp in the kloof near the gold they sought. They found that this
plan obviated much labour and saved much time. Jan Kokerboom was left
in command of the main camp, with the strictest commands to keep the
most vigilant watch and ward. Seleti, Mangwalaan, and September were
each sent out during the week to take a glance round the country, to
inspect the pass, and to ascertain whether any foes were approaching the
kloof. Once in three days Poeskop was sent up the ladder to receive Jan
Kokerboom's report.