"I have a favour to ask of you, my friends," said Hendrik, the day after
they had been introduced at court. "I want a little information, if
either of you can give it."
"Very well," said Willem; "I, for one, will do all in my power to
instruct you. What do you wish to know?"
"If we are to stay in this part of the world any longer," continued
Hendrik, "I wish some one to give me a good reason for our doing so. I
am ready to return home."
"And so am I," said Arend.
"And I also," added Hans. "The last three or four weeks have given me
quite enough of hunting giraffes, or anything else. We have been hunted
too much ourselves."
"I'm sorry to hear you talking in this way," said Groot Willem, "for _I_
am not ready to return yet. We have not accomplished the purpose for
which we set forth."
"True," replied Hendrik, "and I believe we never shall."
"Why do you think so?" asked Willem, with a look of surprise.
"Tell me why I should _not_ think so," answered Hendrik. "To begin with
general principles, people are rarely successful in every undertaking in
life. We have been fortunate on our two former expeditions, and we have
no great cause to complain should we be disappointed in this one. We
cannot always expect to win. Fortune is fickle; and my chief desire now
is that we may reach home in safety."
"I am not prepared to go home yet," rejoined Willem, in a way that told
his companions he was in earnest. "We have only been in the
neighbourhood of the Limpopo for a few short weeks; and we have been
successful in getting a good many hippopotamus teeth. We have made but
one attempt to capture giraffes; and I have not come more than a
thousand miles, to relinquish an undertaking because I have met with one
failure. What are we here for? The journey from Graaf Reinet to this
place should not be made for nothing. We must have something to show
for the loss of our time, besides the loss of our horses; and when we
have made four or five more unsuccessful attempts at procuring what we
came for, then I'll listen patiently to your talk about returning,--not
before."
Hendrik and Arend were thinking of the many narrow escapes from death
they had met within the last few weeks, but perhaps more of their
sweethearts. Hans could not withdraw his thoughts from the anticipated
voyage to Europe but these motives for action would have been powerless
as arguments with Groot Willem, even had they made use of them. He had
come to the north for two young giraffes. Both time and money had been
lost in the expedition, and his companions could give no substantial
reason why they should not make some further attempt to accomplish the
object for which it had been undertaken.
Willem was generally inclined to yield to the wishes of his companions.
On trivial affairs, he never made them unhappy by any spirit of
opposition, nor did he suffer himself to be made so. But they could not
control him now. It was not in the nature of either Hans, Hendrik, or
Arend to return home and leave him alone; and since he continued, as
Hendrik said, "obstinate as a _vlacke varke_" they were reluctantly
compelled to remain.
They were told that within one day's journey to the west, there was a
large forest of _cameel-doorn_, where giraffes were often seen, and they
determined to pay this forest a visit.
Macora had become a great favourite at court; and, having the business
on hand of establishing his tribe in a new home, he could not accompany
them. He assured them, however that there was no fear of their not
finding giraffes in the aforesaid forest, as well as a convenient place
for constructing a trap to capture them. They would also have men to
assist them.
In order not to put them to any trouble in communicating with him, he
sent four of his best messengers along with them, two of whom were to be
sent to him whenever the hunters had any important news to communicate.
With feelings of renewed pleasure, our young hunters once more set forth
upon an expedition, which, instead of being a retreat from savage foes,
was but the parting from friends,--that might be met again.
Hendrik and Arend had occasionally forgotten the allurements of home in
the excitement of the chase; but when driven from one place to another,
and often in danger of losing their lives, it is not to be wondered at
that their thoughts should revert to the tranquil scenes of civilised
life.
Swartboy was highly delighted at thought of parting with the Makololo.
For several days past he had been sorrowing within himself at the
misfortune of being found in bad company, or professing to sorrow for
it. What the Bushman's real opinions were, will ever be an unimportant
mystery on earth; though he never lost an opportunity of endeavouring to
prove that all the misfortunes occurring to his masters had been owing
to the fact that they were guided by Congo,--that they had been in
company with people who spoke a language the Kaffir could understand,
and that he himself could not. This he seemed to think was sufficient
reason for any trouble that might befall them. They had left the tribe
now, and Swartboy had become one of ten, and not one among hundreds. He
had certain duties to perform that gave him a status in the company.
His complaints and suggestions were now listened to, and he began to
give expression to the hope that he might yet succeed in bringing the
expedition to a successful issue!
On the way to the mimosa forest nothing of any interest occurred, even
to Hans, who, along the route, kept lingering behind his companions to
examine the plants that were to be seen along the way. There was one
little incident, however. Apparently a very interesting one to the
dogs.
While passing an elevation that might almost have been called a
mountain, a troop of chacmas, or dog-faced baboons was seen descending
from the summit, probably in search of water. The hunters had often
heard that dogs have a greater hatred for these animals than for any
others; and they now had strong evidence of the truth of this statement.
Only one dog of the whole pack had ever encountered chacmas before;
yet, immediately on seeing them, all seemed aroused to the highest pitch
of fury it was possible for canine nature to attain. Simultaneously
they rushed towards the baboons, baying savagely as they ran.
Sheer instinct seemed to have stirred them to this animosity against
animals whose aspect, in some respects, resembled their own.
"Ride forward," shouted Willem, "or our dogs will be killed."
Up to this time the baboons had shown no disposition to retreat. They
appeared to think that the trouble of fighting dogs was not so great as
that of returning up the mountain; but at the first report of Groot
Willem's roer, they scattered off after a fashion that left the dogs not
the slightest chance of overtaking them.
Only one of them remained behind, and it was the animal that had
received the shot. Being wounded, it was immediately attacked by the
dogs, who could not be choked off till they had torn the ugly brute into
shreds.