One day four sleek mules drawing a light buggy came trotting along the
sandy road from the southward to Namies. In the vehicle were sitting
Jan Roster and his half-breed servant, Piet Noona. They came from that
part of Bushmanland in which no European can dwell, on account of the
extreme brackishness of the water--from an area the only inhabitants of
which are a few dozen families of half-breeds, who live by poaching wild
ostriches in defiance of the law. These people are very like human
red-herrings in appearance--probably from the amount of salt which they
constantly imbibe.
The right of occupation of the district had been leased by Roster from
Government, and he, in turn, sublet his rights to the half-breeds. The
rent was paid in ostrich feathers; these the landlord collected himself,
and took over at his own price.
The unique method practised by these people in hunting the ostrich may
be worth describing shortly. The ostrich runs probably swifter than any
other description of game. It has, however, one peculiarity--if kept
moving, even with comparative slowness, for more than a couple of hours
on a hot day, it gets heat-apoplexy, and suddenly dies. The manner of
its dying under these circumstances is peculiar. It drops in its
tracks, rolls over three times upon the sand, turns on its back and
expires, with legs extended vertically.
The half-breeds sent out boys mounted on ponies, sometimes for a
distance of seventy or eighty miles, into the Desert. These start in
two parties, each taking a different direction. After reaching ground
where, from the spoor, it can be seen that ostriches abound, the two
parties converge towards each other, leaving, at intervals, individuals
stationary at certain points. A chain, the links of which are several
miles long, is thus formed around a large space, into the centre of
which all the ostriches which it contains are gradually coaxed. As soon
as the cordon is complete, the birds are started at a run towards the
saltpans, where the camps of the half-breeds are. As the horses of the
hunters actually engaged in chasing become exhausted, their places are
taken by others waiting along the wide-apart lines, between which the
hapless birds are being driven. After a time the birds begin to drop,
one by one. The hunters who made the running at the beginning, and who
now come slowly along on the spoor of the chase, pick the carcases up,
one by one. Then the feathers are carefully plucked out and tied in
bundles, whilst the meat is cut from the bones and hung across the
saddles of the weary horses.
Jan Roster's buggy was of unusual make. It had a skeleton frame, and,
where the well ought to have been under the seat, was fitted an ample
tin case, which could be easily unshipped. The reason of this was well
known to every Trek-Boer in Bushmanland. The box was the receptacle of
the feathers collected as rent from the half-breeds, and, in the rare
event of Jan's meeting a policeman or the Special Magistrate upon his
rounds, it could be slipped off and buried in the sand. Once he had
reached home with his collections Jan felt himself quite safe. He
farmed tame ostriches himself, and the possession of the feathers could
always be accounted for as being the result of legitimate pluckings.
Jan's tin box was full of feathers as he drove up to Namies, but this
fact did not cause him the least embarrassment. He pulled up within a
few yards of Old Schalk's camp, and, while Piet Noona was outspanning
the mules, he untied the tin box and carried it at once into the
mat-house. From the way in which he did this, it could be seen that he
had evidently done the same kind of thing before. He knew that he ran
no risk of being betrayed--"Hawks dinna pyke out hawks' een."
It was Saturday afternoon when Jan arrived; he was soon sitting in the
mat-house drinking coffee, munching Boer biscuit, and glancing tenderly
at Susannah from time to time. Maria and Petronella sat on the big bed
giggling, whispering together, and nudging one another. Mrs Hattingh,
exhausted by the heat, was sitting near the door fanning her perspiring
face with her cappie.
Susannah's countenance shone with a new light which made it very good to
look upon. Ever since her engagement she had become much neater and
more tasteful in her dress. In this respect she had always been in
strong contrast to her cousins, who, in spite of their taste for
pronounced colours, were utter slatterns. To-day they were dressed out
in finery of a distressing type. Maria wore a new light-pink cashmere
dress, a purple-flowered cappie, and around her neck a dark-blue
handkerchief. Petronella's frock was light blue, her kerchief was
scarlet, and her cappie was of the same kind as her sister's. Both
sisters wore white cotton stockings and new veldschoens--the latter just
finished for the occasion by Oom Schulpad. The dresses were made of the
material which had been obtained upon Mrs Hattingh's fraudulent
representations to the effect that it was required for Susannah.
There was a reason for all this splendour of attire. Maria and
Petronella had just made a double conquest, and the double-conquered
were immediately expected to call. These were two young men who had
recently come to Namies on a courting expedition, from eastern
Bushmanland. They came, saw, and succumbed, all within the space of a
week. They had not yet declared themselves, but were expected to do so
that afternoon. These two hunted in a couple; one never came without
the other, and they did not feel the slightest embarrassment in making
love ardently in each other's immediate neighbourhood.
It was about the middle of the afternoon when the expected swains
arrived. Both were tall, loose-jointed young men. They had been to the
shop and there purchased suits of "reach-me-downs" of distressing
texture, pattern, and cut, as well as flabby-rimmed "smasher" hats.
They had rather vacant faces, with good-natured expressions.
Christoffel (commonly called "Stoffel") van Lell, Maria's admirer, wore
a tweed coat, which was much too small for him, and the sleeves of which
severally revealed half a foot of red, bony wrist. His trousers were of
brown corduroy of the most fragrant quality. Willem Henrico, the
willing slave of Petronella's charms, wore a suit of Bedford cord, the
jacket of which was double-breasted and adorned with white delft buttons
as large as cheese-plates. New veldschoens and cheap, glittering spurs
adorned their extensive feet. Spurs serve as a sort of trade-flag in
courting on the high plains; a young man with a new pair is known to be
in search of a wife.
A walk was proposed. This Mrs Hattingh agreed to with the proviso that
the road over the plains was taken and strictly adhered to, and that the
couples kept close together. The young men wanted to wander among the
kopjes, and the girls seemed to approve of that route. Mrs Hattingh,
however, was inexorable. When she emphatically repeated her injunction
about keeping close together, Maria said, deprecatingly: "Ach, Ou' Ma,"
[Ou' Ma, grandmother] and pouted. Susannah flatly refused to go,
although Jan's request that she should do so was ostentatiously seconded
by Mrs Hattingh. Jan, accordingly, decided to remain at the camp, so
the other couples started by themselves.
Mrs Hattingh soon afterwards stood up and waddled to the scherm,
leaving Jan and Susannah alone together. Old Schalk was sitting in his
chair on the other side of the wagon, in the shade.
Jan became very nervous. After a few minutes he got up hesitatingly,
and moved his chair close to the little cross-legged stool on which
Susannah was sitting. He cleared his throat several times before he
could force himself to speak. Susannah was pale, but quite
unembarrassed. She regarded her unwelcome admirer with eyes that had a
wicked snap in them, and he became demoralised under her disdain.
In vain did he speak of his house, his flocks, his horses, and the
places he had seen--not to mention the important people with whom he was
on terms of intimacy. None of these things moved Susannah. Her hands
were closed into two shapely little fists--so tightly that there was not
a vestige of blood to be seen in the knuckles. Jan ought to have
noticed her hands, and taken warning accordingly, but he rushed blindly
upon his fate.
"Susannah," he said, beseechingly, "I have come a long way to see you."
"So? Was that why you brought the tin box?"
He floundered; in spite of the practice he had had, proposing was
difficult. Besides, Susannah's last remark was not calculated to set
him at his ease.
"Are you not glad to see me, Susannah?"
"Why should I be?"
"Well, I--you see--I wanted to tell you about my new house."
"What have I to do with houses? I live in a mat-house."
"But wouldn't you like to live in a big house with rooms, and a stoep,
and a harmonium inside, and furniture brought all the way from
Clanwilliam?"