Marshall's prediction was verified. Claverton and his host returned to
Fountain's Gap at desk; but without the lost stock. They had spoored
the animals down to a drift of the Kei River, and had even crossed; but
in the then state of things they deemed it imprudent to a degree to
venture farther into the enemy's country; and the thieves, having a good
start of them, escaped with their booty.
Careful watch was kept that night in Payne's household; but beyond a
couple of alarms--not unjustifiable after the events of the last
twenty-four hours, though happily false--nothing transpired.
Under the influence of the cheering sunshine all were disposed to think
more lightly of the situation; but Payne had formed his plans. It would
not do to remain there any longer. He, in common with other settlers on
that part of the Kaffrarian border, was very precariously situated.
What with Kreli, just across the river, in a state of declared war; and
the powerful Gaika clans, within colonial territory, liable to rise at
any moment and make common cause with their brethren, George fully
realised that he was in a cleft stick, hemmed in as he would thus be by
hostile natives on every side. So he made up his mind to abandon
Fountain's Gap, and remove his family to Komgha; then he would have his
hands free to take the field if it were still necessary. The move was
to be made that morning, and all the household were hastily preparing
for it.
It was arranged that they should remain in the settlement for the
present, till it could be seen how things would turn out. There they
would be safe, as the place would be a kind of depot and the
headquarters whence all operations for guarding the border would be
carried on.
"And now, George, I suppose the Kafirs will have made a bonfire of the
house before I see it again," remarked his wife, as a turn of the road
hid the homestead from view.
"Dunno. Impossible to predict. They may, and they may not,"
sententiously replied George, whose chief object in life, at that
moment, was the lighting of his pipe under the adverse circumstances of
being at the same time obliged to control a pair of strong, fresh
horses, none of the quietest at the best of times. He was driving a
Cape cart, the ordinary family coach of the frontier settler, which,
besides the said family, contained very little else, for he intended to
return at once as soon as the womenkind were in safety, and load up a
waggon with such of his lares and penates as it was most desirable to
preserve; for the rest, well, he supposed it must take its chance.
Lilian was riding--needless to specify with what escort--and Marshall,
who was leading a young horse, and whose attention was wholly taken up
with that intractable animal--or at any rate, said it was--rode a little
way behind.
"I wonder when I shall get you all to myself again, Arthur," she said,
softly.
"I was thinking very much the same," he replied. "But keep the mercury
up, dear. The row may not last long."
"Yes. I must not be such a coward," she said. "But somehow this
morning, in spite of the sunshine and the glorious weather, there is
something so awfully depressing over everything. The whole country
seems deserted. That farmhouse we just passed spoke volumes, standing
there all shut up; and there are no natives about even. It is
dreadful."
She was rather pale, after the long, anxious night, depressed as with
the shadow of coming woe. Claverton looked tenderly at the sweet face
in its sad, delicate beauty, and wished to Heaven the Kafirs would leave
them all in peace. A fight was very good fun, but, for his part, he had
had enough in the way of excitement to last him all his life, at least
so he thought; and now he would ask nothing better than to spend the
remainder of his days in calm, undisturbed quiet, with this, his
long-lost love.
"Look," he said; "there are some people coming across there--and they
are Kafirs."
Lilian started. "Where? Oh, there are only a few," said she, in a
relieved tone. For now, every member of the Amaxosa race assumed, in
her imagination, the form of a fierce enemy threatening destruction to
her and hers.
The natives, who had been crossing a bushy hollow some four hundred
yards off, suddenly stopped, and began peering over the trees at the
party, as if uncertain as to the reception they would meet with. Far
away stretched the rolling sunny plains, and the lines of wooded hills,
where here and there a thick column of smoke ascended through the clear
air. One or two distant homesteads were visible--empty, and their
pastures tenantless, for a general flight had taken place and the land
seemed dead indeed; and there, a little way off, were the red forms of
the Kafirs watching them from the bush, while the pleasant sun shone
upon the bright points of their assegais.
"It reminds me rather of our ride over to Thirlestane that day," said
Claverton. "It's just such another day for sunshine and scenery."
"But not for peace," she rejoined, softly. "Ah, if all was only as
peaceful now."
"But it will be, darling. Only a little while longer," replied he, glad
to have diverted her thoughts from this unexpected source of fear. And
as they rode on further and further from it, the group of armed savages
could still be seen watching them from the hill, but these were too few
in number to be formidable, and, moreover, the settlement was near at
hand. To which another hour of journeying brought them in due course.
And how changed was the aspect of the ordinarily quiet little village
now! Waggons stood about everywhere, the three or four irregular
streets were filled with a bustling crowd--men mounted and men afoot--
men of every class and pursuit--farmer, mechanic, storekeeper, frontier
policeman, with here and there a military uniform, and, amid the crowd,
dark-skinned natives moved quietly about, or stood in knots at the
corners, discussing the latest _indaba_. And the softer sex, too, held
its own, in the shape of the wives and daughters of the settlers--these,
for their part, of as varied a class as their lords--the ponderous frame
of the blowzy Dutch _vrouw_, side by side with the regular features and
straight profile of some tastefully-attired daughter of an old English
line.
But although at first sight the place wore an air of bustle and
confusion, it must not be supposed that chaos reigned. A regular system
of defence had been organised in the event of attack, and certain points
of vantage entrenched and fortified, and the safety of the place was
provided for ably and well. The surrounding country, undulating and
grassy, was dotted with horses and cattle grazing. These could be
driven in at a moment's warning; and the approaches to the place, being
quite open and devoid of cover, were abundantly commanded by the
artillery barracks of the Frontier Armed and Mounted Police, which stood
upon a hill some eight hundred yards from the village. The church, a
brick and plaster building of unparalleled ugliness, would make an
efficient block-house in the last extremity--surrounded as it was with a
high sod wall. For those to whom their fellows' necessities were their
own opportunities, the existing state of affairs promised a rich
harvest, for the stores were doing a brisk trade, and the canteens and
hotels were full morning, noon, and night. On the steps of one of the
latter lounged a group of men as our friends arrived.
"Hullo, Payne! You don't mean to say that's yourself?" cried one.
"Why, I thought you were going to stick to your place through it all."
"Well, and who says I'm not?" retorted Payne. "Can't a fellow drive
into the village for the day without having trekked?"
"Oh, for the day!" repeated the first speaker, significantly. "Then, my
good fellow, let me recommend you to remain. After that last affair we
shall have old Kreli coming straight across to give as a look up, he'll
be so cock-a-hoop."
"Wish he would," growled another. "We'd give him particular toko."
"What last affair?" said Payne, half anticipating the answer. "Has
there been a fight?"
"I should jes' think there had. A few of the Police and a lot of
Fingoes were tackled by the Gcalekas; but you must have heard!"
"No, I haven't; not a word."
"Well, then," went on the other, brightening up as a man will do when he
is the first to impart to you a big bit of news; "the thing was this. A
lot of Gcalekas--five thousand, they say--were going across to thrash
the Fingoes, and the Police were ordered out to support the Fingoes.
They met, and the gun opened fire--one of them seven-pounders they were
practising here with t'other day. It appears that they made very good
shootin', and mowed down the Kafirs like smoke; and then somehow or
other the gun broke down, and, by George, sir, before you could say
`knife' the Fingoes turned tail and ran--bolted clean. Well, of course
it wasn't to be expected a few Police--a mere handful as it were--How
many were there, Jim?" broke off the narrator, turning to a companion.
"About one hundred and sixty."
"Yes. Well, it wasn't to be expected they could stand against five
thousand of Kreli's chaps; and they didn't. The order was given to
retire, and then it became a job to catch the horses, and, as the Kafirs
charged them, they were obliged to run for it. Some who couldn't catch
their horses were killed--six--six privates and a sub-inspector; and now
old Kreli's cock of the walk--for the time being."
"Where was the row?" asked Claverton.
"Well, it was at a place called Guadana--just on the boundary of the
Idutywa Reserve."
"When was it--yesterday?" inquired Payne.
"No--day before. I'm expecting a chap round here directly who's
straight from up there. Come in and liquor, and we'll get him to tell
us all about it."
"The day before yesterday!" echoed Payne, opening his eyes wide--and he
and Claverton looked meaningly at each other--for it was on the evening
of that very day that the old Kafir had come to them with his stealthy
warning, and the dread Fire Trumpet had blazed forth on the Kei hills,
signalling to the expectant tribes within the colonial boundary, the
news of their brethren's victory. And it was on the following day that
they two had so nearly carried the war into the enemy's country in
pursuit of the stolen cattle, all unconscious, then, of the mad rashness
of the undertaking--an undertaking, which, had it been carried out,
would assuredly have cost them their lives.