But they _did_ stray.
When day broke, and the travellers looked around them, not a head of the
oxen or cattle was to be seen. Yes, there was one, and one only--the
milch-cow. Totty, after milking her on the previous night, had left her
tied to a bush where she still remained. All the rest were gone, and
the sheep and goats as well.
Whither had they strayed?
The horses were mounted, and search was made. The sheep and goats were
found among some bushes not far off; but it soon appeared that the other
animals had gone clean away.
Their spoor was traced for a mile or two. It led back on the very track
they had come; and no doubt any longer existed that they had returned to
the kraal.
To overtake them before reaching that point, would be difficult, if at
all possible. Their tracks showed that they had gone off early in the
night, and had travelled at a rapid rate--so that by this time they had
most likely arrived at their old home.
This was a sad discovery. To have followed them on the thirsting and
hungry horses would have been a useless work; yet without the yoke-oxen
how was the wagon to be taken forward to the spring?
It appeared to be a sad dilemma they were in; but after a short
consultation the thoughtful Hans suggested a solution of it.
"Can we not attach the horses to the wagon?" inquired he. "The five
could surely draw it on to the spring?"
"What! and leave the cattle behind?" said Hendrik. "If we do not go
after them, they will be all lost, and then--"
"We could go for them afterwards," replied Hans; "but is it not better
first to push forward to the spring; and, after resting the horses a
while, return then for the oxen? They will have reached the kraal by
this time. There they will be sure of water anyhow, and that will keep
them alive till we get there."
The course suggested by Hans seemed feasible enough. At all events, it
was the best plan they could pursue; so they at once set about putting
it in execution. The horses were attached to the wagon in the best way
they could think of. Fortunately some old horse-harness formed part of
the contents of the vehicle, and these were brought out and fitted on,
as well as could be done.
Two horses were made fast to the disselboom as "wheelers;" two others to
the trektow cut to the proper length; and the fifth horse was placed in
front as a leader.
When all was ready, Swartboy again mounted the voor-kist, gathered up
his reins, cracked his whip, and set his team in motion. To the delight
of every one, the huge heavy-laden wagon moved off as freely as if a
full team had been inspanned.
Von Bloom, Hendrik, and Hans, cheered as it passed them; and setting the
milch-cow and the flock of sheep and goats in motion, moved briskly
after. Little Jan and Truey still rode in the wagon; but the others now
travelled afoot, partly because they had the flock to drive, and partly
that they might not increase the load upon the horses.
They all suffered greatly from thirst, but they would have suffered
still more had it not been for that valuable creature that trotted along
behind the wagon--the cow--"old Graaf," as she was called. She had
yielded several pints of milk, both the night before and that morning;
and this well-timed supply had given considerable relief to the
travellers.
The horses behaved beautifully. Notwithstanding that their harness was
both incomplete and ill fitted, they pulled the wagon along after them
as if not a strap or buckle had been wanting. They appeared to know
that their kind master was in a dilemma, and were determined to draw him
out of it. Perhaps, too, they smelt the spring-water before them. At
all events, before they had been many hours in harness, they were
drawing the wagon through a pretty little valley covered with green,
meadow-looking sward; and in five minutes more were standing halted near
a cool crystal spring.
In a short time all had drunk heartily, and were refreshed. The horses
were turned out upon the grass, and the other animals browsed over the
meadow. A good fire was made near the spring, and a quarter of mutton
cooked--upon which the travellers dined--and then all sat waiting for
the horses to fill themselves.
The field-cornet, seated upon one of the wagon-chests, smoked his great
pipe. He could have been contented, but for one thing--the absence of
his cattle.
He had arrived at a beautiful pasture-ground--a sort of oasis in the
wild plains, where there were wood, water, and grass,--everything that
the heart of a "vee-boor" could desire. It did not appear to be a large
tract, but enough to have sustained many hundred head of cattle--enough
for a very fine "stock farm." It would have answered his purpose
admirably; and had he succeeded in bringing on his oxen and cattle, he
would at that moment have felt happy enough. But without them what
availed the fine pasturage? What could he do there without them to
stock it? They were his wealth--at least, he had hoped in time that
their increase would become wealth. They were all of excellent breeds;
and, with the exception of his twelve yoke-oxen, and one or two
long-horned Bechuana bulls, all the others were fine young cows
calculated soon to produce a large herd.
Of course his anxiety about these animals rendered it impossible for him
to enjoy a moment's peace of mind, until he should start back in search
of them. He had only taken out his pipe to pass the time, while the
horses were gathering a bite of grass. As soon as their strength should
be recruited a little, it was his design to take three of the strongest
of them, and with Hendrik and Swartboy, ride back to the old kraal.
As soon, therefore, as the horses were ready for the road again, they
were caught and saddled up; and Von Bloom, Hendrik, and Swartboy,
mounted and set out, while Hans remained in charge of the camp.
They rode at a brisk rate, determined to travel all night, and, if
possible, reach the kraal before morning. At the last point on the
route where there was grass, they off-saddled, and allowed their horses
to rest and refresh themselves. They had brought with them some slices
of the roast mutton, and this time they had not forgotten to fill their
gourd-canteens with water--so that they should not again suffer from
thirst. After an hour's halt they continued their journey.
It was quite night when they arrived at the spot where the oxen had
deserted them; but a clear moon was in the sky, and they were able to
follow back the wheel-tracks of the wagon, that were quite conspicuous
under the moonlight. Now and then to be satisfied, Von Bloom requested
Swartboy to examine the spoor, and see whether the cattle had still kept
the back-track. To answer this gave no great trouble to the Bushman.
He would drop from his horse, and bending over the ground, would reply
in an instant. In every case the answer was in the affirmative. The
animals had certainly gone back to their old home.
Von Bloom believed they would be sure to find them there, but should
they find them _alive_? That was the question that rendered him
anxious.
The creatures could obtain water by the spring, but food--where? Not a
bite would they find anywhere, and would not hunger have destroyed them
all before this?
Day was breaking when they came in sight of the old homestead. It
presented a very odd appearance. Not one of the three would have
recognised it. After the invasion of the locusts it showed a very
altered look, but now there was something else that added to the
singularity of its appearance. A row of strange objects seemed to be
placed upon the roof ridge, and along the walls of the kraals. What
were these strange objects, for they certainly did not belong to the
buildings? This question was put by Von Bloom, partly to himself, but
loud enough for the others to hear him.
"_Da vogels_!" (the vultures), replied Swartboy.
Sure enough, it was a string of vultures that appeared along the walls.
The sight of these filthy birds was more than ominous. It filled Von
Bloom with apprehension. What could they be doing there? There must be
carrion near?
The party rode forward. The day was now up, and the vultures had grown
busy. They flapped their shadowy wings, rose from the walls, and
alighted at different points around the house.
"Surely there must be carrion," muttered Von Bloom.
There _was_ carrion, and plenty of it. As the horsemen drew near the
vultures rose into the air, and a score of half-devoured carcasses could
be seen upon the ground. The long curving horns that appeared beside
each carcass, rendered it easy to tell to what sort of animals they
belonged. In the torn and mutilated fragments, Von Bloom recognised the
remains of his lost herd!
Not one was left alive. There could be seen the remains of all of them,
both cows and oxen, lying near the enclosures and on the adjacent
plain--each where it had fallen.
But how had they fallen? That was the mystery.
Surely they could not have perished of hunger, and so suddenly? They
could not have died of thirst, for there was the spring bubbling up just
beside where they lay? The vultures had not killed them! What then?
Von Bloom did not ask many questions. He was not left long in doubt.
As he and his companions rode over the ground, the mystery was
explained. The tracks of lions, hyenas, and jackals, made everything
clear enough. A large troop of these animals had been upon the ground.
The scarcity of game, caused by the migration of the locusts, had no
doubt rendered them more than usually ravenous, and in consequence the
cattle became their prey.
Where were they now? The morning light, and the sight of the house
perhaps, had driven them off. But their spoor was quite fresh. They
were near at hand, and would be certain to return again upon the
following night.
Von Bloom felt a strong desire to be revenged upon the hideous brutes;
and, under other circumstances, would have remained to get a shot at
them. But just then that would have been both imprudent and
unprofitable work. It would be as much as their horses could
accomplish, to get back to camp that night; so, without even entering
the old house, they watered their animals, refilled their calabashes at
the spring, and with heavy hearts once more rode away from the kraal.