GOOD-BY, McCANN.
Surrounded by the dogs, which had gathered about him for protection,
Oscar rode slowly away, looking back now and then to make sure that the
lions were not following him, and as soon as the trees of the grove hid
them from his view he put his horse to his best pace and galloped up
beside the Kaffir, who was awaiting his appearance with no little
impatience and anxiety.
"Whew!" panted Oscar, pulling off his hat and wiping his forehead with
his handkerchief. "We don't want that buffalo's head, do we, Thompson? I
don't think it would pay to bother with it. That was my first, and I
sincerely hope it will be my last, sight of a wild lion. I am glad you
didn't drop the oryx in your hurried stampede, for if you had I don't
believe I should have gone back after him. Now let's reach the wagon
without loss of time."
Never before had Oscar felt as timid as he did that night.
He gave every clump of bushes and every stone that was large enough to
conceal a lurking beast of prey a wide berth, and did not draw an easy
breath until he saw the glare of the camp-fires shining through the
trees in front of him. By that time it was pitch-dark.
The only persons he saw as he rode up the bank, after watering his horse
at the fountain, were the driver and fore-loper, who ran up to the
Kaffir, chattering in chorus, swinging their arms around their heads,
and pointing toward the opposite side of the water-course.
They were full of news, and Oscar, who thought that something alarming
must have happened during his absence, waited impatiently to learn what
it was. He could gain no idea of it from the language of the Hottentots,
for that was perfectly unintelligible to him, nor from the countenance
of the Kaffir, who did nothing but grin while he listened.
"Well," said he when the hubbub had subsided so that he could make
himself heard, "what is it?"
"Mack--he gone," said Thompson sententiously.
"Gone?" repeated Oscar, a suspicion of the truth breaking upon him at
once.
The Kaffir grinned again, and the Hottentots nodded their heads and
began backing off, as if they expected a great ebullition of fury on
Oscar's part.
"Gone?" said the boy again. "Did he go on foot?"
"No; took he hoss and gun," replied Thompson.
"Which way did he go?"
The three natives pointed silently in the direction of Zurnst.
"Thompson," said Oscar, "put that antelope down in front of the wagon.
Did either of you fellows get supper for me?"
Yes, there was a supper waiting for him, and it was a good one, too--the
best he had eaten since leaving Zurnst. Oscar smiled when he sat down to
it.
He knew that it was the result of the combined efforts of his driver
and fore-loper, who had taken this way of showing their employer that
they sympathized with him in the loss of his cook, and that they had not
aided or abetted McCann in any way.
For several minutes they stood at a respectful distance, watching him,
and waiting for him to get angry; but seeing that he sipped his coffee
very contentedly, and showed no signs of flying into a passion over
something he could not help, they finally withdrew to their own fire.
When Oscar had finished his supper he settled back in his camp-chair,
folded his arms, and looked down at the ground in a brown study.
"So McCann has stolen a horse and gun, and cleared out, has he?" said he
to himself after he had spent a few minutes in reviewing the situation.
"Well, he has rendered himself liable to the law, which will snatch him
bald-headed the moment he gets back to the settlements; but I can't stay
here long enough to see justice done him, and so all the punishment he
receives will be from me. He will not meet his friends again under a
year and a half, and I hope to see mine before that time expires. He
never went toward Zurnst, because he's too big a coward to travel so far
by himself. He probably went in that direction, but he did it just to
throw me off his trail. As soon as he was out of sight of the camp he
made a circle around, and went off in pursuit of those Boers. I shall
find him in their company to-morrow night. And when I do find him,"
added Oscar, while his eyes flashed, and his hands clenched
involuntarily, "he must give up my property or fight. When I get my gun
and horse back he can go where he pleases."
A visit to the rear of the wagon, where the horses were eating their
evening's rations of mealies, revealed the fact that Little Gray was
missing; and an inspection of his "battery" resulted in the discovery
that his heavy single-barrelled rifle--his "elephant gun," as Captain
Sterling called it--was gone.
The young hunter made no comments, but when he brought out his tools and
went to work on the oryx there was an expression on his face that
McCann would not have liked to have seen there.
Before he went to sleep that night Oscar made all his arrangements for a
vigorous pursuit of his thieving cook, and daylight found him and
Thompson in the saddle. By the time the dew was off the grass so that
the horses could graze they had travelled fifteen miles.
They were just that far from water, too, and Oscar, knowing that his
animals could not quench their thirst until he reached the Boer
encampment, made but a short halt for rest and refreshment.
When he mounted again he pressed forward with all haste, and just as the
sun was setting came within sight of the party of whom he was in search.
Their wagons were drawn up on the open, about two hundred yards from a
little grove, and Oscar knew that in or near that grove he would find a
fountain.
In America hunters and travellers make it a point to camp close beside a
water-course, provided that grass and wood are handy, but in Africa a
different plan is pursued. The wild beasts which come to the pools every
night to drink require plenty of elbow room, and the traveller takes
care to see that they have it.
He stops his wagon at a distance, drives his stock to and from the
fountain, and the water he needs for his tea and coffee is brought to
his camp in buckets.
He is also suspicious of groves and thickets, because they afford
lurking-places for lions and leopards; and he always camps on the open
plain and builds his fire behind a barricade of thorn bushes.
Thirsty as he was, Oscar did not turn toward the fountain, but drew a
bee-line for the wagons. He had a disagreeable and perhaps a dangerous
task before him, and he wanted to get through with it as soon as he
could.
Oscar had not ridden far before he became aware that his approach was
discovered, and that there was a commotion among the Boers and their
attendants.
He brought his field-glass to bear upon them, and saw that they were
arming themselves and forming in line, so as to cover the wagons.
"I see him, Thompson," said Oscar at length. "He is hiding behind that
second wagon from the left, and he has got my horse and gun with him.
We'll soon have him out of that. I don't know whether we will or not,"
he added to himself. "If I had white men to deal with I should have no
fears of the result; but these wooden-headed Dutchmen have no more sense
than the cattle they drive, and it is hard to tell how they will act."
Nothing daunted by the preparations that had been made to receive him,
Oscar rode straight on toward the Boers, and when the patriarch made a
sign for him to halt he paid no sort of attention to it. The least show
of timidity or irresolution would have been fatal to him. He had come
there with plans of his own fully developed, and he intended to let the
Dutchmen see that he had the pluck to carry them out.
He kept on until he had come within ten feet of the Boers, who held
their cocked muskets in their hands, all ready to shoot, and then he
drew up his horse.
"Thompson," said he, "tell these men that they are harboring a
thief--that my cook has stolen a horse, saddle, bridle, and rifle from
me, and that I have come here to get them. Tell them that I don't care
for the thief himself--he isn't worth his grub, and they can have him if
they want him--but I want my property, and, what's more, I'm bound to
have it."
"Let's see you get it!" shouted McCann from his hiding-place behind the
wagon.
Oscar's face grew a shade paler as these words of defiance fell upon his
ears, but he made no reply. He had come there to act, and not to argue
with McCann.
The Kaffir, however, was full of talk, and, not receiving a satisfactory
reply to his translation, he proceeded to abuse the Dutchmen without
stint.
The latter replied in angry tones, shaking their fists and flourishing
their muskets in the air; and for a moment or two things looked as
though there was going to be a fight.
"What do they say, Thompson?" asked Oscar.
"The Boer man say he don't know nothing about the hoss and gun," was the
interpreter's reply.
"They don't, eh?" exclaimed Oscar. "That's all I want to know. If they
won't help me get my property back I'll take it without help."
As Oscar said this he put his horse in motion, intending to ride to
McCann's place of concealment, and compel him to surrender his
ill-gotten gains. As he was about to pass through the line a Boer
attempted to seize his horse by the bridle, but that was an unfortunate
move for him.
Drawing sharply in upon the curb-bit, Oscar struck his horse a smart
blow with the whip that was tied to his wrist; whereupon the animal shot
forward like an arrow from a bow, and striking the Boer full in the
breast, sent him flying through the air as if he had been thrown from a
catapult.
Without waiting to see what had become of him, or to learn what he was
going to do about it when he recovered his feet, Oscar rode around the
nearest wagon, and found himself face to face with his runaway cook.
There was his missing horse, saddled and bridled, and at his head stood
McCann, with the stolen rifle in his hand and his left arm passed
through Little Gray's bridle-rein. The man's face was as white as a
sheet, and he was trembling all over; but still he was trying to keep up
some show of courage.
"Come no nearer," said he in a tone which he intended should strike
terror to the boy's heart. "If you don't go away, and let me alone, I'll
shoot you, so help me!"
Oscar made no reply. Swinging himself from his saddle with great
coolness and deliberation, he approached the trembling culprit with a
steady step, holding his cocked rifle in such a position that the muzzle
of it pointed straight at McCann's breast.
"Keep that shooting-iron directed toward the clouds," said he sternly;
and, almost involuntarily, McCann obeyed. "Now let go of it," he added
when he had come near enough to place his hand upon the weapon.
The man dropped the elephant gun as if it had been a coal of fire.
Oscar let down the hammer, took hold of Little Gray's bridle, from which
McCann withdrew his arm without being told, and quietly led him away.
Very soon afterward he and the Kaffir were riding toward the fountain,
while the Boers stood watching them in silence.
They camped on the plain that night, and the next morning set out for
the wagon, which they reached in safety.