Bernhard, upon leaving his companions at the resting-place where the
lion had killed the Matabili spy, rode on with speed; he knew that the
lives of the females at least depended upon his gaining the Lager of his
countrymen, and bringing back aid without delay. He was impelled, by
friendship alone for Hans and Victor, to use every endeavour in his
power to bring help to them, but even a stronger impulse urged him, viz.
that he had fallen in love with Katrine's sister. Bernhard had never
devoted much time or thought to the Frauleins, he having always found
hunting attractive enough for him; so that there was something quite
novel in finding himself incurring so much risk for a couple of girls.
When, however, he was thrown into daily communication with one as
pleasing as Katrine's sister, and thus could observe her trusting,
unselfish nature, he seemed suddenly to awake to quite a new sensation.
Thus as he rode on he murmured, "Yes, I'll save her! I'll save her, if
it is for man to do it." And onward he rode, with a speed more fitted
for a brief ride than for the journey which he was now undertaking.
Onward rode Bernhard. Rivers were forded or swum, plains were passed
across, hills ascended, and with but two brief halts, Bernhard continued
his journey till the fading light began to warn him it was time to
prepare a halting-place for the night. Fatigue to a man of Bernhard's
age, frame, and condition was almost unknown, especially when he had
been kept up by excitement, as he had been all day; when, however, he
determined to halt for the night, he remembered that he had scarcely
sufficient food for more than his evening and morning meal, and that
before again starting it would be better to provide himself with this
necessary.
Allowing his horse to graze as long as there was sufficient light to
enable him to see around him, he also cut a large quantity of grass, and
placed this near some bushes where he intended to camp for the night.
Knowing the caution of most nocturnal wanderers, he cut down some
brushwood, and placed this around an open space in which he and his
horse would pass the night. Many animals, fearing a trap of some kind,
would not venture over these bushes, though most of them could have
leaped the obstacle with scarcely any difficulty.
A continued and refreshing sleep, under the conditions in which Bernhard
passed the night, were almost impossible. He knew that lions and
leopards, hyenas and other carnivora infested the country in which he
then was. If his horse should be killed, or even badly mauled by any of
these fierce, strong-jawed brutes, his own state would be one of danger;
so that to rest was as much as he felt inclined to do, and when sleep
made her claims upon him he could scarcely close his eyes before he
started up wide awake, as some howling monster scented the horse and its
owner, and feared to gratify its appetite lest the dreaded man should
have to be encountered.
There are few comparisons more singular than that between the pathless
wilds of portions of Africa and the crowded streets of some of our
cities. When we walk for hours in London and meet an ever-changing mass
of men; when we see streets thronged with thousands, houses
over-crowded, and vehicles crammed--we wonder whether our planet must
not soon be too densely populated to be a suitable residence for man;
but when we travel over immense tracts of land traversed only by the
brute creation, and observe these roaming in a state of undisturbed
freedom, we almost doubt the fact of men being crowded together in
cities, as we believe we have seen them--the two extremes seeming a
complete anomaly. We who live in the present century have the advantage
of witnessing scenes which our successors will undoubtedly envy us for.
At the rate at which civilisation advances, and man and his arts take
the place of untrodden nature, it may not be improbable that the wilds
of Africa, Australia, and America may cease to be wilds, but will be
colonies of various races, whose countries are too small for their
requirements. In the year 1967 or 4067 the report that the men of two
centuries previous actually hunted such creatures as camelopards, may
seem as odd to the then denizens of our planet as it would be to us to
think that men ever had the chance of hurling their flint-headed weapons
at the mammoth on the banks of the great Estuary of the Thames. The men
too of that time may often exclaim, "Ah, those lucky fellows of the
nineteenth century who had the chance of hunting elephants in Africa!"
Thus the changes that now occur in localities will then have occurred by
time, and as it now appears strange to the man who can scarcely find
elbow-room for himself, to hear of a country where you may ride for two
days and not see a fellow-creature, so will it in a century hence seem
strange to reflect on the conditions of the past. Scarcely had daylight
began to break than Bernhard gave his horse liberty to feed, he himself
being intent on procuring a supply of food for his journey. This he was
not long in doing, for the morning was foggy, and he came upon three
elands, within a few hundred yards of his night's resting-place.
Knowing that he would soon be miles away from his present position, he
did not hesitate to fire a shot, and therefore killed one of the elands,
selected the choice portions of the animal, and returning to his horse,
upsaddled, and at once commenced his journey.
A two hours' ride brought him to a convenient place for a halt, several
dead trees yielded firewood, a stream supplied water, and grass was
abundant. Making a careful examination of the surrounding country, and
seeing no signs of an enemy, Bernhard off-saddled, lighted a fire, and
commenced cooking his breakfast. Whilst thus occupied he heard
distinctly the sound of a heavy gun; this was to him better than the
voice of a friend, and when he heard a second and a third shot, which he
found came from some hills about four miles off, he shouted with
delight. Seizing his roer, and regardless of the expenditure of his
scarce and valued ammunition, he placed the barrels of his gun towards
the direction from which he had heard the firing, and in quick
succession fired off both barrels. Loading again with a heavy charge of
powder only, which he rammed down tightly in both barrels, he waited a
few minutes, and again pulled both triggers. Bernhard knew that if the
report of fire-arms which he had heard came from any of his own people,
the signal which he had given would be soon answered--at least, it would
be if it could be heard. In less than five minutes after his signal was
given he heard it answered, and he was thus aware that aid was at hand;
what that aid was he did not know. Great as was his requirement for
food, yet he was more anxious to discover what assistance was likely to
be afforded him, so he ran to a rising-ground near and looked in the
direction from which the sounds of firing had been heard. He then saw a
party of about thirty mounted men riding at a canter towards him, their
general appearance seeming to indicate that they were Dutchmen.
His uncertainty was soon set at rest, for as they approached, he
recognised familiar forms; and waving his hat as a signal, he was
answered by more than one, who, though ignorant as yet as to who he was,
were yet aware that a friend was greeting them.
It was not long before Bernhard was the centre of an eager and inquiring
circle, amongst whom were uncles, cousins, and other relations of
Katrine and Hans. Upon hearing the condition of those whom Bernhard had
lately left, there was a general cry of "On, on! let us go help them."
Bernhard, however, stopped this eagerness, and made inquiries as to the
amount of ammunition amongst the parties, the number of horses, etc.
"We should take extra horses, and as much ammunition as we can carry,"
he urged; "we shall very likely have to right, and certainly there must
be enough horses to carry all the party."
The most experienced at once agreed that this step was necessary, and it
was therefore decided that whilst the main body moved forward some five
or six should return to the waggons, which were about five miles off,
bring extra horses, and all the ammunition, and follow the main body.
Great was the anxiety of all the party to get forward. Hans was a
favourite with them all; and the general opinion was, that it would be
very odd if Hans had not managed to be a match in some way for any
Matabili who might have discovered him. During the whole day the
cavalcade advanced with speed, led by Bernhard, and, with but two brief
halts, continued their progress, until darkness set in and they were
compelled to halt. Bernhard was now in great hopes that he would be
enabled to rescue Hans and the girls; for thirty mounted Boers, all
well-armed and amply supplied with ammunition, was a formidable force,
and one that, against savages armed with spears only, was not easy to
withstand. He was therefore much better pleased with the aspect of
affairs than he was on the previous night, when he had camped within a
few miles of this same locality.
Although a watch was kept and other precautions taken against a
surprise, the Dutchmen made no great efforts to conceal themselves: they
thus lighted a fire and cooked their provisions, amongst which coffee
was one of the items, a steaming tea-cup of which can only be fully
appreciated by those who have for days had water as the mere quencher of
thirst. Soon after the camp had been formed the party which had been
sent back for extra horses regained their brother hunters, and the
reinforcement for Hans now amounted to thirty-two hunters, all Dutchmen,
and four Hottentots; whilst forty-two horses in all were either ridden
or led by the party.
Bernhard estimated that he could reach the ground near which Hans would
be concealed by about mid-day on the morrow, and thus, instead of taking
a week to obtain aid, he would be able to return in half that time, and
with as efficient a force as could be expected. Reflecting upon the
probable results of the morrow, he sank to sleep, and enjoyed a night's
rest undisturbed by any of the numerous sounds that broke the silence of
the wilderness.