In half an hour afterwards the hunters had broken up their camp.
"I feel sorry about having to leave Congo behind," said Willem, as the
cattle were being driven across the stream. "Not that I care a straw
for him, the ungrateful wretch, but that we may be unable to find the
spoor of the giraffes, not having him with us. He and Spoor'em would be
worth everything now."
"I think," rejoined his brother, "there's not much chance of our
recovering them. We are now in a settled country where they will find
but little rest. They will either be driven out of it or killed by
whoever comes across them."
"I have thought of all that," replied Willem; "still, I shall hope for a
day or two longer. I can better survive the loss, if nobody else
succeeds in obtaining the reward offered for them; but should that
brother of whom the boer spoke, as being gone on a similar expedition to
ours,--should he perform the feat we have failed to accomplish, then I
shouldn't care to live much longer."
Before they had gone very far, all noticed that there was something
wrong with Swartboy, who seemed also inclined to turn back, and was
muttering some gibberish to himself, as was his habit when in any way
perplexed or annoyed. The excitement in his mind at last became too
strong to be restrained, and, drawing near Willem, he asked:--
"What was that, baas Willem, you said jus now 'bout the bruder of dat
Dutchman?"
"I hardly remember, Swart," answered Willem. "Some thing about his
going after giraffes and getting the reward instead of ourselves. Why
do you ask?"
"But did they gone nort same as we been a doin'?"
"Yes, so the boer told us."
"How long was dat ago?"
"Seven months, I think he said."
"Why for you no tell me afore?"
This question Willem did not think worth answering, and Swartboy for a
few minutes was left to his thoughts.
Presently he recommenced the conversation. "Baas Willem," said he. "I
think we bess stop, and talk a bit. Congo no fool, but Swartboy.
Swartboy a fool, and no mistake 'bout dat."
"Well, what has that to do with our stopping for a talk?" asked Willem.
"The boer's bruder, he come back from the nort without catch any
giraffe," replied the Bushman. "I tink he got some now."
A light suddenly dawned on the mind of Hans, who stood listening to this
dialect. The mysterious conduct of Congo appeared better than half
explained.
A halt was immediately ordered, and all gathered around Swartboy.
Nearly twenty minutes was taken up in obtaining from the Bushman the
information he had to give. From the answers made to about a hundred
questions, the hunters learned that, in the hut where he, Congo, and the
Makololo had been so freely entertained, they had seen a Hottentot who
had lately returned from a journey to the north.
This Swartboy had understood from a few words the man had muttered while
under the influence of the "smoke."
During the evening, the Hottentot had been called away from the hut, and
Swartboy had seen no more of him, nor thought anything of what he had
said.
Now, however, on hearing that the boer had a brother who had gone
northward on a giraffe hunt, Swartboy conceived the idea that the
drunken Hottentot had not been there alone. In all likelihood he had
accompanied the expedition. It had returned unsuccessful; and the
boer's brothers had stolen the two giraffes that were now missing.
The more this conjecture was discussed, the more probable it appeared.
No doubt Congo had some suspicion that there was something wrong, and he
was keeping it to himself lest he might be mistaken.
Had he stayed behind in the hope of ascertaining the truth? His rude
behaviour to his former master in the presence of the boer might have
been only a ruse to mislead the latter, and give an opportunity for
carrying out some detective contrivance. It was all in keeping with the
Kaffir character, and Willem was but too delighted to think that such
was the explanation.
"I thought at the time I last saw him," said Willem, "that there was
something in his behaviour unlike what would be shown by a traitor. It
seemed to contradict his words. I believe that we have all been very
stupid. I hope so. I shall go back and see Congo immediately. I shall
demand an explanation. He will tell me all, if I can only get the boer
out of the way."
"I have another idea," said Hendrik. "The two men we saw hunting for
horses, and who told us they had seen our giraffes to the south, were a
couple of liars. They did not speak like men telling the truth. I can
see it now: we were simpletons to have been so easily deceived. They
were the boer's own brothers,--the very men who have robbed us!"
"Yes," said Hans; "and they had the assistance of Mynheer Van Ormon in
doing it. How easy it is to understand his profuse hospitality now. We
have indeed been duped."
The belief that the giraffes had been stolen was now universal, and our
adventurers were only too glad to think so. They much preferred that
this should be the case than to think the animals had strayed. There
would be a far better chance of recovering them.
It is easy to believe what we most desire, and all agreed that the
property had been surreptitiously taken from the shed.
Without saying another word, Groot Willem turned his horse upon his
tracks, and rode back towards the kraal of Mynheer Van Ormon.
The boer met him outside the enclosures, apparently surprised to see him
return. The moment Willem set eyes upon the man's face, he saw that
there was something amiss. He observed a strong expression of
displeasure, accompanied with a glance of uneasiness.
"I have come back to have a chat with my old servant," said Willem. "He
has been with me for so many years that I don't like to part with him on
slight grounds."
"Ver goot," answered Van Ormon. "You can see him when he come home. He
hash goed after the oxen. If you pleash, take him along mit you when
you leave."
As the sun was now about setting, Willem knew that the Kaffir must soon
be coming in with the cattle, and he rode off from the house in the hope
of meeting him. Soon a large herd was seen approaching from the plain,
and, riding around it, Willem found Congo in company with two
Hottentots.
While in the presence of his companions, the Kaffir would not speak to
him, but was apparently devoting every thought to the task of directing
the movements of the herd. His old master seemed unworthy of his
notice.
"We have been all wrong in our conjectures," thought Willem: "Congo has
really deserted me. No man could keep up such an appearance as he is
doing. I may go back again."
He was about to turn away, when Congo, observing that both the
Hottentots had gone a few yards ahead, and were busy talking to one
another, muttered in a low tone: "Go back, baas Willem, and wait at you
camp. I come dar to-morrow mornin'."
Willem was not only satisfied, but overjoyed. Those words were enough
to tell him that his Kaffir was still faithful,--that he was acting for
the best, and that all would yet be well. He returned to his companions
as cheerful and happy as he had been two nights before, while sitting by
the Dutchman's fireside and, under the exhilarating influence of the
Schiedam.