A TASTE OF CIVILIZED LIFE.
"How came you here?" asked Oscar as soon as he could speak.
He straightened up and took a good look at the hunter, and this is what
he saw: A thick-set, broad-shouldered man, a gentleman on the face of
him, dressed in a suit of white duck, cut in regular Boer style. His
short jacket was open in front, showing the broad belt he wore about his
waist and in which he carried his ammunition--at least Oscar thought so,
for he saw a large powder-horn sticking out of one of his pockets. He
wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head, and as much of his face as could be
seen over his whiskers was as brown as sole-leather.
He carried a heavy double-barrelled rifle across the horn of his saddle,
and rode a magnificent horse, whose glossy breast was flecked with
foam, showing that he had been ridden long and rapidly.
Close behind the stranger, on another horse that looked equally as good,
sat his Hottentot after-rider, who also carried a heavy rifle in his
hands.
The hunter's face wore a good-natured smile, and there was a merry
twinkle in his eye. He evidently enjoyed Oscar's surprise.
"Who are you?" continued the boy.
"Seeing that you have had the impudence to bag my game, I think that is
a proper question for me to ask," was the reply.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Oscar, who had by this time fully
recovered himself. "I supposed this gnu had been started by my own dogs.
I didn't know that there was another white person within two days'
journey of this place."
"Gnu!" repeated the stranger. "I haven't heard that word before in
years. You are not English?"
"No, sir. I am an American."
"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed the hunter, now astonished in his turn. "And
what in the world are you doing out here, so far from home, may I ask?"
"I came here to procure specimens of natural history for a university
museum," answered Oscar.
He expected that the hunter would be surprised, and he certainly was.
Everybody was surprised when the boy told what his business was.
Probably no one of his years had ever been engaged in such an
undertaking before.
"_You_ did!" exclaimed the horseman.
"Yes, sir, _I_ did," replied Oscar, who thought his new acquaintance
looked a little incredulous. "And I have the papers to prove it."
"Where are your companions?"
"They are with the wagon. If you will ride on with me until I outspan I
shall be glad to have you drink coffee with me. Of course this is your
game, you having had the first shot at it, but, if you will permit me, I
will put it into my wagon and save you the trouble of carrying it."
The horseman made no reply. The wagon came up just then, and while Paddy
O'Brian and the Kaffir were putting the wilde-beest into it the strange
hunter looked all around, as if he were searching for something or
somebody he could not find. When the wagon moved on again Oscar mounted
his horse and rode on ahead, in company with his new acquaintance.
"Where did you say your companions were?" the latter asked at length.
"These are all I have," answered Oscar--"a driver, fore-loper,
interpreter, and cook."
The stranger was greatly amazed.
"Do you mean to tell me that you are the owner of this wagon and the
leader of this expedition?" said he.
"I do, sir."
"And you, a mere lad, who has hardly got out of pinafores, have come out
here all by yourself to---- It beats everything I ever heard of!"
"I have got on very well so far, sir, although I have taken but very few
specimens. You see, I don't know how to hunt the game one finds here,
but I _do_ know right where I can go to get instructions. Do you know a
gentleman living somewhere in this country of the name of Lawrence?"
"I have a slight acquaintance with him."
Oscar looked at the stranger. There was something in the tone of his
voice and in the expression of his face which told him that he was at
that moment in the company of the man he wanted to see.
Hastily excusing himself, he rode back to the wagon, climbed into it,
and took from one of the pockets a package of letters, with which he
galloped back to his companion's side.
"Mr. Lawrence," said he, "my name is Oscar Preston, and there are
letters of introduction to you which some of your friends were kind
enough to give me."
The gentleman took the letters and read them as he rode along. When he
had made himself master of their contents he turned in his saddle and
shook the young hunter's hand.
"I am glad to see you, and I give you a hearty welcome," said he.
Then he issued some hasty orders in Dutch to his after-rider, who
wheeled his horse and hastened back to the wagon.
"My house is only ten miles away," continued Mr. Lawrence, "and I have
sent word to your driver not to outspan until he gets there. I confess
that I am very greatly surprised at your--your--I was going to say
foolhardiness; but no one can be called foolhardy who goes coolly and
deliberately about a thing after he has counted well the cost, so I will
say your courage and perseverance. I supposed, of course, that you had
some person of years and experience with you to superintend matters.
Young man, you have already done wonders, and if you keep on as you have
begun there is no telling what you may not accomplish before you pass
along this track again on your way to the coast. There is plenty of game
about here belonging to the order _Ruminantia_. I suppose you know what
I mean by that?"
"Certainly, sir. You mean animals that chew the cud."
"Exactly. You can see for yourself that there are plenty of them, and
you must stay with me as my guest until you learn how to hunt them. It
will give me great pleasure to assist you in any way I can. You will
find that I am something of a naturalist as well as a hunter. Of the
_Carnivora_----"
"They are the flesh-eaters," said Oscar when his companion paused and
looked at him.
"Well, we don't have many of them here, and you will have to take your
chances with them when you find them, for it is little that I can tell
you about them."
Oscar was soon on the best of terms with his new friend, who chatted
away as familiarly as though he had known the boy all his life.
In about three hours they reached Mr. Lawrence's house; and if we were
to say that Oscar was surprised at the sight of it we should but feebly
express his feelings.
Here, in the midst of a wilderness more than fifty miles from any
neighbor, the English gentleman had created a perfect little paradise.
The road led through an extensive orchard of orange, apple, plum, peach,
and walnut trees, and after that came a vineyard that was fairly purple
with grapes.
At the lower end of the lawn, which must have contained a hundred
acres, was a large pond sheltered by weeping-willows and covered with
ducks and geese.
The house was in perfect keeping with its surroundings. It was a large,
roomy structure, well built, and furnished in a style which made Oscar
wonder.
The first room into which he was conducted was the library--think of a
library in the heart of Africa!--and there he remained until Mr.
Lawrence brought in his wife and children, who greeted the visitor in
the most cordial manner.
This was the first taste of civilized life that Oscar had had along the
route outside of the towns he passed, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
It seemed like old times to find himself seated at a farmer's table once
more, and to have educated and refined people to talk to. But when he
went to bed his trouble began. His couch was too soft and he could not
sleep.
After rolling and tossing for half the night he spread one of the
quilts on the floor, and in five minutes more was in dreamland.
Oscar spent a month under Mr. Lawrence's hospitable roof, and during
that time he received all the instructions he needed. What they were it
is not necessary to tell here, for we shall learn something about them
when we find him alone on the plain, dependent on his own resources and
surrounded by wild beasts which disturbed his camp every night, and
often did something worse.
He made some improvements in his new friend's stuffed specimens, gave
him lessons in taxidermy, and Mr. Lawrence, in return, presented him
with two of his fine Scotch deer-hounds.
One of these went back to Eaton with him and took the place of Bugle,
who died of old age during his master's absence, and the other--well,
Oscar did not keep him a great while, and we shall soon tell how he lost
him.
One bright morning Oscar, with many regrets, took leave of his kind host
and his family and resumed his journey. The oxen, invigorated by their
long rest, walked off in the most lively manner with the heavy wagon,
which had been thoroughly overhauled by Mr. Lawrence's blacksmith.
He was bound for new hunting-grounds, far beyond Leichtberg, at which
place Paddy O'Brian was to take leave of him.