Having given their captive the desired rest, during which it had
displayed its good sense by remaining most of the time in quiet, the
hunters prepared to drive it to their camp.
Mounted on their horses, Arend and Hans each took the end of a rheim,
which was fastened midway to its neck. They intended to ride a little
in advance of the captive, keeping also some distance apart from each
other. This would hinder it from turning either to the right or left.
Hendrik was to come on behind and urge the creature forward, should it
show a disposition to try the strength of its neck by hanging back upon
the rheims.
This plan worked extremely well. The young captive was compelled to
follow the two horsemen in an undeviating line; and every attempt made
to remain stationary or go backwards was rewarded by a blow from
Hendrik's jambok. Then the strain on the ropes would instantly be
relieved by the animal springing forward. In this manner the creature
was conducted along without the slightest trouble; and near the middle
of the afternoon, they reached the place from whence they had started
out on the hunt.
On the ground they discovered their pack-saddles, cooking utensils, and
other impedimenta, but nothing was seen of Congo, Swartboy, the four
Makololo, or the cattle! All were away! Moreover, they had hopes of
meeting Groot Willem on their return, and were anticipating great
pleasure from the encounter. They knew how rejoiced he would be at
their success. But where were the camp followers? Where were Swartboy
and Congo?
There was a mystery in their absence that none of the three hunters
could solve.
Why had the property been left exposed by those placed in charge of it?
Could the Makololo have robbed them of their cattle? Had Congo and
Swartboy proved traitors? This was very improbable. But why were they
not there?
For some time our adventurers could do nothing but wait, in the hope
that time would explain all, and bring the absentees back.
Not an ox, horse, or dog was to be seen. The bundles of ivory,
enveloped in grass matting, were lying where they had been left in the
morning. If a robbery had been committed, why was this valuable
property left untouched?
As no one could make answer, the solution had to be left to time.
Evening came on, and the three hunters were still distracted by
conflicting hopes, fears, and doubts. The prolonged absence of Willem
now began to cause them a serious apprehension. It was time something
should be done towards finding him; but what were they to do? Where
should they seek? They knew not; still, they should go somewhere.
As night approached, leaving Hans to take care of the young giraffe,
Arend and Hendrik started off in the direction in which Willem had last
been seen.
The twilight was fast disappearing before they had proceeded a mile from
the camp, but under its dim light they perceived Congo and Swartboy
coming towards them. They were only accompanied by the dogs.
The two hunters hastened forward, and soon came up with them. Hendrik
commenced hastily questioning the Bushman, while Arend did the same to
the Kaffir, in the endeavour to get some information of what had so much
mystified them.
The questions "Where is Willem?" "Where are the cattle?" "Why did you
leave the camp?" "Where are the Makololo?" were asked in rapid
succession, and to all they received but one answer,--the word "Yaas."
"Will you not tell me, you yellow demon?" shouted Hendrik, impatient at
not getting the answer he wished.
"Yaas, baas Hendrik," answered Swartboy; "what you want to know first?"
"Where is Willem?"
This was a question that, in the Bushman's way of thinking, required
some consideration before he could venture on a reply; but while he was
hesitating, Congo answered, "We don't know."
"Ha, ha! Congo is a fool," exclaimed Swartboy. "We saw baas Willem
going away this morning with the ress of you, after the tootlas."
It was not until the youths were driven nearly wild with impatience that
they succeeded in learning what they wished. Willem had not returned,
and the two Africans knew less about the cause of his absence than they
did themselves. During the day, the cattle, in feeding, had strayed to
some distance over the plain. The four Makololo had gone after them,
and had not returned. Swartboy and Congo admitted that they had slept
awhile in the afternoon, and only on awaking had discovered that the
cattle and Makololo were missing. They had then started out in search
of both. They had found the ambassadors of Macora in great trouble. A
party of Bechuanas had chanced upon them, and taken from them the whole
of the cattle!
The Makololo were in great distress about the affair, and, fearing they
would be blamed for the loss of the cattle, were afraid to return to the
camp of the hunters. They were then halted about two miles down the
river, and were talking of going back to their home, quite certain that
the white hunters would have nothing more to do with them.
The folly of having left their property unprotected, when in the
neighbourhood of African tribes whose honesty could not be relied on,
now, for the first time, occurred to our adventurers.
The Bechuanas, who will steal from each other, or from the people of any
nation, in all probability would not have taken the cattle, had one of
the whites been present to claim ownership in them.
The Bechuana robbers had found them in the possession of only four
strange men, Africans, who belonged far north, and had no right to be
within Bechuana territory. The opportunity was too good to be lost,
and, so tempted, they had driven the animals away.
There could be no help for what had happened,--at all events, not for
the present. To discover the whereabouts of Willem was the care that
was most pressing, and they one more proceeded in search of him.
As the night had now come on they could have done nothing of themselves,
but the presence of Congo, accompanied by his hound Spoor'em, inspired
them with fresh hope, and they proceeded onward.
After a time it became so dark that Arend proposed a halt until morning.
To this Hendrik objected, Congo taking sides with him.
"Do you remember the night you were under the baobab-tree, dodging the
borele?" asked Hendrik.
"Say no more," answered Arend. "If you wish it I am willing to go on."
Swartboy was sent back to the camp to join Hans, while the Kaffir and
Spoor'em led the way. Under the direction of Hendrik they soon came to
the place where Willem had been last seen. There were no signs of him
anywhere.
The joy with which they had returned to their camp had now departed.
Something unusual had happened to their companion,--something
disastrous. Their cattle and pack-horses were lost, driven away they
knew not whither, by a tribe that might be able to retain them, even
should they be found.
Under these circumstances what cared they any longer for the captured
giraffe.
Such were the reveries of Hendrik and Arend as they followed their
Kaffir guide through the gloom of the night.