Hendrik Von Bloom was a _boor_.
My young English reader, do not suppose that I mean any disrespect to
Mynheer Von Bloom, by calling him a "boor." In our good Cape colony a
"boor" is a farmer. It is no reproach to be called a farmer. Von Bloom
was one--a Dutch farmer of the Cape--a boor.
The boors of the Cape colony have figured very considerably in modern
history. Although naturally a people inclined to peace, they have been
forced into various wars, both with native Africans and Europeans; and
in these wars they have acquitted themselves admirably, and given proofs
that a pacific people when need be can fight just as well as those who
are continually exulting in the ruffian glory of the soldier.
But the boors have been accused of cruelty in their wars--especially
those carried on against the native races. In an abstract point of view
the accusation might appear just. But when we come to consider the
provocation, received at the hands of these savage enemies, we learn to
look more leniently upon the conduct of the Cape Dutch. It is true they
reduced the yellow Hottentots to a state of slavery; but at that same
time, we, the English, were transporting ship-loads of black Guineamen
across the Atlantic, while the Spaniards and Portuguese were binding the
Red men of America in fetters as tight and hard.
Another point to be considered is the character of the natives with whom
the Dutch boors had to deal. The keenest cruelty inflicted upon them by
the colonists was mercy, compared with the treatment which these savages
had to bear at the hands of their own despots.
This does not justify the Dutch for having reduced the Hottentots to a
state of slavery; but, all circumstances considered, there is no one of
the maritime nations who can gracefully accuse them of cruelty. In
their dealings with the aborigines of the Cape, they have had to do with
savages of a most wicked and degraded stamp; and the history of
colonisation, under such circumstances, could not be otherwise then full
of unpleasant episodes.
Young reader, I could easily defend the conduct of the boors of Cape
colony, but I have not space here. I can only give you my opinion; and
that is, that they are a brave, strong, healthy, moral, peace-loving,
industrious race--lovers of truth, and friends to republican freedom--in
short, a noble race of men.
Is it likely, then, when I called Hendrik Von Bloom a boor, that I meant
him any disrespect? Quite the contrary.
But Mynheer Hendrik had not always been a boor. He could boast of a
somewhat higher condition--that is, he could boast of a better education
than the mere Cape farmer usually possesses, as well as some experience
in wielding the sword. He was not a native of the colony, but of the
mother country; and he had found his way to the Cape not as a poor
adventurer seeking his fortune, but as an officer in a Dutch regiment
then stationed there.
His soldier-service in the colony was not of long duration. A certain
cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Gertrude--the daughter of a rich boor--had
taken a liking to the young lieutenant; and he in his turn became vastly
fond of her. The consequence was, that they got married. Gertrude's
father dying shortly after, the large farm, with its full stock of
horses, and Hottentots, broad-tailed sheep, and long-horned oxen, became
hers. This was an inducement for her soldier-husband to lay down the
sword and turn "vee-boor," or stock farmer, which he consequently did.
These incidents occurred many years previous to the English becoming
masters of the Cape colony. When that event came to pass, Hendrik Von
Bloom was already a man of influence in the colony and "field-cornet" of
his district, which lay in the beautiful county of Graaf Reinet. He was
then a widower, the father of a small family. The wife whom he had
fondly loved,--the cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired Gertrude--no longer
lived.
History will tell you how the Dutch colonists, discontented with English
rule, rebelled against it. The ex-lieutenant and field-cornet was one
of the most prominent among these rebels. History will also tell you
how the rebellion was put down; and how several of those compromised
were brought to execution. Von Bloom escaped by flight; but his fine
property in the Graaf Reinet was confiscated and given to another.
Many years after we find him living in a remote district beyond the
great Orange River, leading the life of a "trek-boor,"--that is, a
nomade farmer, who has no fixed or permanent abode, but moves with his
flocks from place to place, wherever good pastures and water may tempt
him.
From about this time dates my knowledge of the field-cornet and his
family. Of his history previous to this I have stated all I know, but
for a period of many years after I am more minutely acquainted with it.
Most of its details I received from the lips of his own son, I was
greatly interested, and indeed instructed, by them. They were my first
lessons in _African zoology_.
Believing, boy reader, that they might also instruct and interest you, I
here lay them before you. You are not to regard them as merely
fanciful. The descriptions of the wild creatures that play their parts
in this little history, as well as the acts, habits, and instincts
assigned to them, you may regard as true to Nature. Young Von Bloom was
a student of Nature, and you may depend upon the fidelity of his
descriptions.
Disgusted with politics, the field-cornet now dwelt on the remote
frontier--in fact, beyond the frontier, for the nearest settlement was
an hundred miles off. His "kraal" was in a district bordering the great
Kalihari desert--the Saara of Southern Africa. The region around, for
hundreds of miles, was uninhabited, for the thinly-scattered, half-human
Bushmen who dwelt within its limits, hardly deserved the name of
inhabitants any more than the wild beasts that howled around them.
I have said that Von Bloom now followed the occupation of a "trek-boor."
Farming in the Cape colony consists principally in the rearing of
horses, cattle, sheep, and goats; and these animals form the wealth of
the boor. But the stock of our field-cornet was now a very small one.
The proscription had swept away all his wealth, and he had not been
fortunate in his first essays as a nomade grazier. The emancipation
law, passed by the British Government, extended not only to the Negroes
of the West India Islands, but also to the Hottentots of the Cape; and
the result of it was that the servants of Mynheer Von Bloom had deserted
him. His cattle, no longer properly cared for, had strayed off. Some
of them fell a prey to wild beasts--some died of the _murrain_. His
horses, too, were decimated by that mysterious disease of Southern
Africa, the "horse-sickness;" while his sheep and goats were continually
being attacked and diminished in numbers by the earth-wolf, the wild
hound, and the hyena. A series of losses had he suffered until his
horses, oxen, sheep, and goats, scarce counted altogether an hundred
head. A very small stock for a vee-boor, or South African grazier.
Withal our field-cornet was not unhappy. He looked around upon his
three brave sons--Hans, Hendrik, and Jan. He looked upon his
cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired daughter, Gertrude, the very type and
image of what her mother had been. From these he drew the hope of a
happier future.
His two eldest boys were already helps to him in his daily occupations;
the youngest would soon be so likewise. In Gertrude,--or "Truey," as
she was endearingly styled,--he would soon have a capital housekeeper.
He was not unhappy therefore; and if an occasional sigh escaped him, it
was when the face of little Truey recalled the memory of that Gertrude
who was now in heaven.
But Hendrik Von Bloom was not the man to despair. Disappointments had
not succeeded in causing his spirits to droop. He only applied himself
more ardently to the task of once more building up his fortune.
For himself he had no ambition to be rich. He would have been contented
with the simple life he was leading, and would have cared but little to
increase his wealth. But other considerations weighed upon his mind--
the future of his little family. He could not suffer his children to
grow up in the midst of the wild plains without education.
No; they must one day return to the abodes of men, to act their part in
the drama of social and civilised life. This was his design.
But how was this design to be accomplished? Though his so-called act of
_treason_ had been pardoned, and he was now free to return within the
limits of the colony, he was ill prepared for such a purpose. His poor
wasted stock would not suffice to set him up within the settlements. It
would scarce keep him a month. To return would be to return a beggar!
Reflections of this kind sometimes gave him anxiety. But they also
added energy to his disposition, and rendered him more eager to overcome
the obstacles before him.
During the present year he had been very industrious. In order that his
cattle should be provided for in the season of winter he had planted a
large quantity of maize and buckwheat, and now the crops of both were in
the most prosperous condition. His garden, too, smiled, and promised a
profusion of fruits, and melons, and kitchen vegetables. In short, the
little homestead where he had fixed himself for a time, was a miniature
oasis; and he rejoiced day after day, as his eyes rested upon the
ripening aspect around him. Once more he began to dream of prosperity--
once more to hope that his evil fortunes had come to an end.
Alas! It was a false hope. A series of trials yet awaited him--a
series of misfortunes that deprived him of almost everything he
possessed, and completely changed his mode of existence.
Perhaps these occurrences could hardly be termed _misfortunes_, since in
the end they led to a happy result.
But you may judge for yourself, boy reader, after you have heard the
"history and adventures" of the "trek-boor" and his family.