Next morning the young yagers slept late--because they had nothing
particular to do. They did not purpose continuing their journey before
the following morning; and on that day they intended to lie up, so that
their horses, might rest and be fresh for the _road_.
They rose, therefore, a little later than usual, and breakfasted on the
tongue of the brindled gnoo, with hot coffee and hard bread; a stock of
which they had brought along in their wagons, and which still held out.
It would not have been as great a deprivation to the young yagers to
have gone without bread, as it would to you, boy reader. There live
many people in South Africa to whom bread is a luxury almost unknown.
Many tribes of the native people never eat such a thing, and there are
thousands of the frontier Dutch colonists, that do without it
altogether. The people of South Africa, both native and colonial, are
not an _agricultural_ but a _pastoral people_, and therefore pay but
little attention to the cultivation of the soil. Their herds of horned
cattle, their horses, their flocks of big-tailed sheep and goats,
engross all their time, and _agricultural_ farming is not to their
taste. Although the wealthier among the boors plant a few acres of
Kaffir corn--a variety of the "Indian corn," or maize--and sow some
bushels of "buckwheat," yet this is principally for their own use. This
class also cultivate many kinds of vegetables in their gardens, and have
large orchards containing apples, peaches, pomegranates, pears, and
quinces, with vineyards for the grape, and enclosures for melons,
cucumbers, and pumpkins. But among the poorer classes, and particularly
on the remote frontier, such things are hardly thought of; and their
cattle _kraals_ are the only enclosures around the dwelling of the
"vee-boor," or stock-farmer. Among these people, bread is a rarity, and
their staple food is "biltong," and fresh beef or mutton cooked in a
variety of ways, and so as to be quite palatable--for the _cuisine_ of
the boor is by no means to be despised.
In many parts the staple food of the frontier boor is venison--that is,
in districts where the ordinary game has not yet been exterminated.
Within the frontier districts, springboks are plenty, as also the common
wildebeests; and piles of the horns of these may be seen lying around
the kraals of every vee-boor. The flesh of the wildebeests, as already
stated, is more like beef than venison, and when fat, or cooked in the
delicious fat of the great sheep's tails, is excellent eating.
The quagga, which is also common in these parts, is killed for its
flesh; but this is rank and oily, and only eaten by the Hottentot
servants.
Our young yagers were the children of wealthy parents, and had therefore
learnt to eat bread, though on a pinch they could have got along without
it. But they had brought several sacks of biscuit with them, and with
these and coffee, and the tongue of the blauw-wildebeest, they were
making a hearty breakfast.
They were all right merry, chatting over their adventure with the
borele, and laughing at the danger now that it was past.
They were taking their time with their breakfast, eating it leisurely
and in no hurry, as they meant to spend the day in a sort of _dolce far
niente_ manner--loitering about the camp, or perhaps putting in a stitch
wherever there should be a weak place in either saddle or bridle, so as
to make themselves thoroughly ready for the route. Every precaution
would be required to ensure their safety against the wide stretch of
desert they would have to cross.
While in this mood, and about half through with their meal, an
announcement was made that was likely to upset all their plans for the
day. The announcement came from Congo, who had been loitering out on
the desert side of the mokhala grove, and who came running into camp, in
breathless haste, to report that a large flock of ostriches were out
upon the plain!
The yagers, but particularly Klaas and Jan, bristled up at the news,
uttering various exclamations of joy. A sudden change took place in
their manner. Their jaws wagged more rapidly; the gnoo-tongue
disappeared in larger slices; the coffee was quaffed in big hurried
gulps; and the second half of their meal did not occupy the tenth part
of the time that had been taken up with the first.
In less than two minutes from the time Congo made his report the
breakfast was finished; and in five minutes more the horses were all
saddled, bridled, and mounted. Resting the animals was no longer
thought of. Everything had gone out of the heads of their riders except
an ostrich "surround."
Where was Swartboy to take part in the affair, and to give his advice?
All acknowledged that the Bushman knew more about hunting the ostrich
than any of them--Congo not excepted. Indeed, this was true in regard
to most kinds of _desert_ animals, as also of the smaller mammalia and
birds. Congo had lived all his life among a people who keep cattle--for
the Kaffir nations are not mere hunters, but a pastoral people--and
although he knew how to destroy the lion, the leopard, the hyena, and
other carnivorous creatures, he was less accustomed to the killing or
capturing of game, since the vast herds of cattle bred and reared in his
country render such knowledge but of secondary importance. Not so with
Swartboy. The Bushmen have no cattle, except those which at times they
steal from their neighbours, the Griquas, Bastaards, and trek-boors; and
these are never _kept_, but killed and devoured as soon as they are
driven to the Bushmen haunts. The want of domestic animals, therefore,
with the necessity of having something to eat, compels the Bushman to
use all his ingenuity in the capturing or killing of wild _game_, which
among Bushmen includes every living creature from the locust and lizard
to the camelopard and elephant!
The natural consequence of such a life must be the arriving at a perfect
knowledge of the haunts, habits, and mode of hunting the wild creatures
that people their country; and in this very knowledge Swartboy was
believed to excel even among his countrymen, for it was known that in
his own land he had been considered a "mighty hunter."
Where was Swartboy at that moment? He had not been seen for an hour or
more. Congo said that he had driven off the oxen to pasture upon the
grass plain to the rear of the camp, and no doubt he was there herding
them.
It was proposed that some one should go for him, but this was objected
to on account of the loss of time. Congo said that the oxen were a good
way off. It would take half-an-hour to bring Swartboy into camp, and
before the end of that period the ostriches might be ten miles off.
No; they could not wait for Swartboy. They must proceed without him;
and, mounting their horses, the yagers rode off towards the desert
plain.