Next morning, by break of day, our yagers were astir, and the first
object upon which they rested their eyes was the river. To their joy it
had fallen several feet, as they could tell by the water-mark upon the
trees.
The streams of South Africa, like those of most tropical and
sub-tropical countries, and especially where the district is
mountainous, rise and fall with much greater rapidity than those of
temperate climes. Their sudden rise is accounted for by the great
quantity of water which in tropical storms is precipitated within a
short period of time--the rain falling, not in light sparse drops, but
thick and heavy, for several hours together, until the whole surface of
the country is saturated, and every rivulet becomes a torrent.
Of these storms we have an exemplification in our summer
thunder-showers--with their big rain-drops, when in a few minutes the
gutter becomes a rivulet and the rut of the cartwheel a running stream.
Fortunately these "sunshiny" showers are of short duration. They "last
only half-an-hour," instead of many hours. Fancy one of them continuing
for a whole day or a week! If such were to be the case, we should
witness floods as sudden and terrible as those of the tropics.
The quick fall in the streams of South Africa is easily accounted for--
the principal reason being that the clouds are their feeders, and not,
as with us, springs and lakes. Tropic rivers rarely run from
reservoirs; the abrupt cessation of the rain cuts off their supply, and
the consequence is the sudden falling of their waters. Evaporation by a
hot sun, and large absorption by the dry earth, combine to produce this
effect. Now the young yagers saw that the "Gareep" (such is the native
name of the Orange River) had fallen many feet during the night; but
they knew not whether it was yet fordable. Though the place was a
"drift" used by Hottentots, Bechuanas, traders, and occasionally
"trek-boors," yet none of the party knew any thing of its depth, now
that the freshet was on. There were no marks to indicate the depth--no
means by which they could ascertain it. They could not see the bottom,
as the water was of a yellow-brown colour, in consequence of the flood.
It might be three feet--it might be six--but as the current was very
rapid, it would be a dangerous experiment to wade in and measure its
depth in that way.
What were they to do then? They were impatient to effect a crossing.
How were they to do so in safety?
Hendrik proposed that one of them should try the ford on horseback. If
they could not wade it, they might swim over. He offered to go himself.
Groot Willem, not to be outdone by Hendrik in daring, made a similar
proposal. But Hans, who was the eldest of the party, and whose prudent
counsels were usually regarded by all, gave his advice against this
course. The experiment would be too perilous, he said. Should the
water prove too deep, the horses would be compelled to swim, and with so
rapid a current they might be carried far below the "drift,"--perhaps
down to where the banks were high and steep. There they should not be
able to climb out, and both horse and rider might perish.
Besides, urged Hans, even should a rider succeed by swimming to reach
the opposite side in safety, the oxen and wagons could not get over in
that way, and where would be the use of crossing without _them_? None
whatever. Better, therefore, to wait a little longer until they should
be certain that the river had subsided to its usual level. That they
could ascertain by the water ceasing to fall any further, and another
day would decide the point. It would only be the loss of another day.
Hans's reasoning was good, and so was his counsel. Hendrik and Groot
Willem acknowledged this, and agreed to act upon it; but for all that,
Groot Willem, who was longing to get among the giraffes, buffaloes, and
elephants, felt a strong desire to attempt the crossing; and Hendrik,
too, was similarly inclined, from the sheer love of adventure--for
Hendrik's fault was that of being over-courageous.
Both would have risked the river--even to swimming it--had it been
practicable for the teams to have crossed, but as that was not believed
possible, they agreed, though with rather a bad grace, to wait upon the
water another day.
But, after all, they were not to wait a day,--scarcely an hour. In an
hour from that time they had crossed the drift--wagons, oxen, and all--
and were trekking over the plain on the opposite side!
What had led to their so suddenly changing their resolution? How had
they ascertained that the drift was fordable? For a knowledge of that
fact they were indebted to Congo the Kaffir.
While engaged in their discussion as to the depth of the river, the
latter had been observed standing upon the bank and throwing large
pebbles into the stream. Thinking it was merely some freak or
superstition on the part of the savage, none of them had taken any
notice of him, Swartboy excepted. The Bushman was watching the Kaffir,
with glances that bespoke a keen interest in his movements.
At length a loud scornful laugh, from Swartboy, accompanying a series of
rather rough phrases, directed the attention of the young yagers upon
the Kaffir.
"My footy, Congo! ole fool you! b'lieve you tell depth so? tink so, ole
skellum? Ha! ha! ha! you bania groot ole humbug! Ha! ha! ha!"
The Kaffir took no notice of this rather insulting apostrophe, but
continued to fling his pebbles as before; but the young yagers, who were
also watching him, noticed that he was not throwing them carelessly, but
in a peculiar manner, and their attention now became fixed upon him.
They saw that each time as the pebble parted from his fingers, he bent
suddenly forward, with his ear close to the surface, and in this
attitude appeared to listen to the "plunge" of the stone! When the
sound died away, he would rise erect again, fling another pebble
_farther out than the last_, and then crouch and listen as before?
"What's the Kaffir about?" asked Hendrik of Groot Willem and Arend, who,
being his masters, were more likely to know.
Neither could tell. Some Zooloo trick, no doubt; Congo knew many a one.
But what he meant by his present demonstration neither could tell.
Swartboy's conjecture appeared to be correct, the Kaffir was _sounding
the depth of the drift_.
"Hilloa, there! Congo!" cried Groot Willem. "What are ye after, old
boy?"
"Congo find how deep drift be, baas Willem," was the reply.
"Oh! you can't tell that way; can you?"
The Kaffir made answer in the affirmative.
"Bah!" ejaculated Swartboy, jealous of the interest his rival was
beginning to excite; "da's all nonsense; ole fool know noffin 't all
'bout it,--dat he don't."
The Kaffir still took no notice of Swartboy's gibes--though they no
doubt nettled him a little--but kept on casting the pebbles, each one,
as already stated, being flung so as to fall several feet beyond the one
that preceded it. He continued at this, until the last pebble was seen
to plunge within a yard or two of the opposite side of the current, here
more than a hundred yards wide. Then raising himself erect, and turning
his face to the young yagers, he said in firm but respectful tones--
"Mynheeren, you drift may cross--now."
All regarded him with incredulous glances.
"How deep think you it is?" inquired Hans. The Kaffir made answer by
placing his hands upon his hips. It would reach so high.
"My footy!" exclaimed Swartboy, in derision. "It's twice dar depth. Do
you want drown us, ole fool?"
"May drown _you_--nobody else!" quietly replied the Kaffir, at the same
time measuring Swartboy with his eye, and curling his lip in derision of
the Bushman's short stature.
The young yagers burst out into a loud laugh. Swartboy felt the sting,
but for some moments was unable to retort.