HOW OSCAR GOT EVEN.
"Hurrouch! Look out there! Bedad I'll break the head of yez!"
This was the way in which Oscar Preston was welcomed when he dismounted
in front of his wagon, about three o'clock in the morning, and put his
foot upon the dissel-boom, preparatory to climbing in and taking
possession of the swinging cot that was slung up under the arches which
supported the canvas tent.
He had passed a very pleasant evening in the company of the gentlemen he
had invited to enjoy his hospitality at Mr. Dibbit's hotel. The dinner
was excellent, for the worthy landlord knew how to serve those who had
the money to pay for his attentions, and after full justice had been
done to it, and he had taken leave of his friends, each of whom gave
him some additional advice in regard to the route to be pursued, and
the manner in which he ought to conduct himself in certain emergencies,
Oscar mounted his horse, which, for want of a better name, he had
christened "Little Gray," and rode toward Howick.
About a mile beyond the blacksmith shop he discovered a wagon on the
veldt, or open field, which he judged to be Colonel Dunhaven's. It was
lying almost on its side, and there were no living things to be seen
about it, no oxen or horses, or even a dog to challenge him.
His own camp, which he reached after he had ridden about ten miles
further on, presented a more cheerful appearance. The huge wagon was
right side up, and there was a fire burning brightly beside it.
His oxen, fastened two and two in their yokes, were lying at their ease,
"chewing the cud of contentment"; the horse Paddy O'Brian had ridden
away from the hotel in the morning was tied to one of the hind wheels of
the wagon, and the dogs were curled up under it.
Awakened by the sound of his horse's feet, they came out in a body and
welcomed him vociferously.
Having quieted them, Oscar dismounted, and while he was taking the
saddle off Little Gray and tying him beside his mate he heard a rustling
in the wagon and a voice muttering:
"Hould aisy there, ye blackgarrud!"
Oscar laughed silently, and told himself that he had not the slightest
reason to fear that his property would be interfered with so long as
Paddy O'Brian had anything to do with it. He walked around the wagon to
warm his hands at the fire (it was cold, and the heavy overcoat he wore
was not at all uncomfortable), and saw his native servants sleeping
there, covered up, head and ears, with their skin cloaks.
"I am all right so far," thought Oscar as he looked about him with a
pleased expression on his face, and thought of the trials that had been
so graphically described to him. "Thanks to my good friends, I have
escaped every annoyance. I am almost sorry I offered to assist the
colonel, for I shall lose much valuable time by it. I know he never
would have offered to help me if I had been in trouble. How he would
have stared at me through that eyeglass of his if he had seen me
hopelessly stalled and my oxen rusty, while his own team was moving
smoothly along the hard road! But that's the way I am going to get even
with him."
Having thoroughly warmed himself at the fire, Oscar turned toward the
wagon; but no sooner had he laid his hand upon the fore-chest than Paddy
O'Brian's blackthorn stick whirled through the air and struck the lid
with a sounding whack.
Fortunately he missed his aim in the dark, but the unexpected attack
startled Oscar, who jumped back with an angry exclamation.
"If I hurted yez I beg yer pardon," said Paddy in a sympathetic tone.
"But kape away from that wagon, for I'm the best little man in Afriky."
During his long intercourse with the honest but combative Irishman Oscar
could discover but one fault in him, and that was, it took him forever
to wake up. Oscar could spring from his cot, rifle in hand, at any hour
of the night, and the moment he landed on his feet all his senses came
to him, and he knew just what he was about, but Paddy never found his
wits until he had done something he ought not to have done.
He gave a ludicrous example of this one night, and came very near
sealing his death warrant by it. What it was shall be told in its proper
place.
"If you think you are going to get a fight out of me you are mistaken,"
said Oscar.
Paddy, who was wide awake now, was profuse in his apologies.
"It's all right," said his employer; "but in future don't be quite so
free with that stick of yours. Be sure you are striking at the right
man."
Oscar slept soundly in his comfortable bed, and at daylight was awakened
by his cook, who called him to breakfast. He ate alone, sitting in a
camp-chair beside a cheerful fire which Paddy O'Brian had kindled for
his especial benefit, and as he sipped his coffee and looked around at
his possessions he felt like a young monarch.
This was his first taste of African life. In this way he was to live for
long months to come.
Breakfast over, Oscar began to bestir himself and to issue some rapid
orders, which were as rapidly obeyed. A saddle was put on Little Gray,
the oxen were fastened to the trek-tow and started back toward Colonel
Dunhaven's disabled wagon, led by the fore-loper and followed by the
driver and interpreter, the latter being armed with a jambok, which is a
long, pliable whip made of rhinoceros-hide.
After seeing them well under way Oscar gave his cook some minute
instructions regarding the duties that were to occupy his attention
during his absence, and then mounted his horse and set out at a gallop.
When he came within sight of the colonel's wagon he did not see anybody
about it. Greatly surprised at this, he rode up, and, drawing aside the
fly, looked into the tent, fully expecting to find it deserted; but
there was the colonel, fast asleep in his swinging cot, and Roberts
snoring on the fore-chest.
"You are a pretty pair, I must say," thought the boy, whose first
impulse was to go back to his own wagon, leaving the colonel to get out
of his predicament as best he could. "I have come ten miles on purpose
to help you, only to find you both fast asleep. Look here!" he shouted.
"This will never do. You ought to have been at work on this wagon at the
first peep of day."
"Aw!" said the colonel, raising himself on his elbow and rubbing his
eyes, while Roberts rolled off the fore-chest with alacrity. "Is that
you, Mr. Preston?"
"Yes, it is I; and I have caught you both in bed," replied Oscar in no
very amiable tones. "If you want any of my help look alive. Where is
your jack-screw?"
"Jack-screw?" repeated the colonel languidly, sinking back on his pillow
and putting his hands under his head. "Really I don't think we have such
an article in the outfit! Have we, Roberts?"
"No, sir," replied the latter promptly.
Oscar could hardly believe his ears. One of the most necessary
implements--one that is used in African travel as often as a spade or a
pick--had been left behind. The colonel might as well have come away
from Maritzburg without his "battery."
"Harris said we didn't need any," added Roberts.
"That wasn't the only falsehood he told you," said Oscar in disgust.
"How do you suppose you are going to get that wheel out of there?"
"I don't know, I am sure, unless we pull it out with the oxen," drawled
the colonel.
"There are not oxen enough in the country to pull it out, and neither
was there a trek-tow ever made that would stand the strain," answered
the boy, who was almost ready to boil over when he saw how indifferent
the person most interested in the matter of extricating the wagon seemed
to be. "Neither have you any oxen--at least I don't see any," he
continued, looking all around the field.
"Why, didn't you bring any with you?" asked the colonel, raising
himself on his elbow again.
He looked interested now, and there was something in the tone of his
voice, and in the expression of his face, that provoked Oscar, who knew
then, as well as though the colonel had explained it to him, that his
offer of assistance had been taken in a very broad sense.
The colonel expected that Oscar would draw his wagon out on firm ground,
and that he himself would have no trouble about it. He expected to pay,
and to pay liberally, for the service, but he wanted nothing to do with
the work.
While it was being done he would sit by in a camp-chair and smoke his
pipe and look on, while Roberts held an umbrella over his head.
But Oscar did not intend to waste any of the committee's time in working
for money. He had simply offered to assist the colonel, but he did not
expect that all the responsibility would be shifted upon his own
shoulders.
"My oxen are coming," replied Oscar, "but it will be an hour or more
before they will get here. By that time the dew will be off the grass,
and they must be turned loose to graze. Why didn't you bring your oxen
up yesterday?"
"My dear fellow, didn't I tell you that my servants have all deserted
me?" answered the colonel.
"Then, why didn't you go in search of them yourself?"
"Because I don't choose to do work that others are paid to do for me."
"You'll have to act as your own servant if you get anything done," said
Oscar. "Suppose you send Roberts down to the blacksmith shop after a
jack-screw."
This proposition fairly staggered Roberts, who looked first at Oscar and
then at his own spotless livery.
"What harm is there in it?" demanded the boy sharply. "You'll have to do
worse things than that before you get back. You had better put your
pride in your pocket while you stay in this country, for if you think
you are going to keep those clothes looking as nice as they do now you
will be disappointed."
"Why can't you send one of your own men?" asked Roberts.
"Because they are not here, and when they arrive they will have to herd
the cattle to keep them from straying away. I didn't agree to boss this
job--I only offered to help; and seeing that you are not going to do
anything about it, I will bid you good-day."
"Stop! stop!" cried the colonel in an imperious tone. "Set your price,
and go to work and get the wagon out the best way you can."
"I can't get it out with one team and only three men to do the work. You
ought to have had your oxen and servants here bright and early."
"How in the world was I to get them when I didn't know where they were?"
"You ought to have found out where they were. But I have wasted time
enough. Good-day."
Oscar turned his horse's head toward his own camp, and rode rapidly
until he had met and sent back the oxen.
After that he allowed his horse to settle down into a walk; and as he
rode along he thought over the events of the morning, and wondered how
much the outside world would have known about Africa if all Englishmen
had been like Colonel Dunhaven.
Oscar had not been able to "get even" with him, after all, but he had
shown his good will.
As soon as the oxen reached the wagon they were turned loose to graze.
By the time they had eaten their fill it was too hot to travel, and so
Oscar took to his wagon and wrote up his diary.
At three o'clock in the afternoon he gave the order to inspan, and
shortly after sunset went into camp within sight of the town of Howick.