"What is it ye're doing?" said Dinny, a day or two before that proposed
for the start.
Coffee and Chicory looked up from their task, grinned, and then went on
sharpening the points of a couple of assegais upon a heavy block of
stone, which they had evidently brought from a distance. Their faces
glistened with perspiration; their knees were covered with dust; and
they were in a wonderful state of excitement. Resuming their work on
the instant, they tried to bring the weapons to a keen point.
"Kill lion," said Coffee, laconically; and he worked away as if the lion
were round the corner waiting to be killed.
"Then ye may just as well lave off, ye dirty little naygars; for it's my
belafe that you're not going at all."
Dinny went off into the house leaving the two boys apparently paralysed.
They dropped the assegais, stared at each other, and then lay down and
howled in the misery of their disappointment.
But this did not last many seconds; for Coffee sprang up and kicked
Chicory, who also rose to his feet, and in obedience to a word from his
brother they took their assegais and hid them in a tree which formed
their armoury--for out of its branches Chicory took the two kiris or
clubs; and then the boys ran round to the front, and stood making signs.
The brothers had such a keen love of anything in the way of sport that,
expecting something new, they ran out and willingly followed the two
young blacks out into the grassy plain about a mile from the house, when
after posting their young masters behind a bush, Coffee and Chicory
whispered to them to watch, and then began to advance cautiously through
the grass, kiri in hand, their eyes glistening as they keenly peered
from side to side.
"What are they going to do?" said Dick.
"I don't know. Show us something. I wish we had brought our guns.
Look out!"
There was a whirring of wings, and the two Zulu boys struck attitudes
that would have been models for a sculptor; then as a large bird similar
to a partridge rose up, Coffee sent his knobbed club whizzing through
the air; another bird rose, and Chicory imitated his brother's act; and
the result was, that the cleverly thrown kiris hit the birds, which fell
in amongst the long grass, from which they were retrieved by the lads
with shouts of triumph--the birds proving to be the coranne, so called
from the peculiarity of their cry.
"Well done, boys!" cried Jack. "They'll be good eating."
"Boss Dick, Boss Jack take Zulu boys, now?" said the kiri-throwers,
eagerly.
"Why, of course. You know you are going," replied Dick.
"Dinny say Zulu boys not going," cried Chicory.
"Then Dinny knows nothing about it," said Dick, angrily. "If he don't
mind he'll be left behind himself."
Coffee sent his kiri spinning up in the air, Chicory followed suit, each
catching the weapon again with ease; and then they both dashed off
across the plain as if mad, and to the astonishment of the brothers, who
took the brace of birds and walked back towards the house, to continue
the preparations for the start.
For there was so much to do, packing the great long tilted waggon with
necessaries, in the shape of tea, sugar, coffee, and chocolate. Barrels
of mealies or Indian corn, and wheaten flour, besides. Salt too, had to
be taken, and a large store of ammunition; for in addition to boxes well
filled with cartridges, they took a keg or two of powder and a quantity
of lead. Then there were rolls of brass wire, and a quantity of showy
beads--the latter commodities to take the place of money in exchanges
with the natives--salt, powder, and lead answering the same purpose.
It was a delightful task to the boys, who thoroughly enjoyed the
packing, and eagerly asked what every package contained, when they had
no opportunity of opening it; while Mr Rogers looked on, smiling at the
interest they took.
"Here y'are, young gentlemen," said Dinny. "The masther seems to think
that you're going to do nothing but suck sweet-stuff all the time you're
out."
"Why, what's that, Dinny?" cried Dick, who had just brought out a heavy
box.
"Sure, it's sugar-shticks and candy," said Dinny; and he went off to
fetch something else.
"Why, so it is, Dick," said Jack. "I say, father, are we to pack this
sweet-stuff in the waggon? We don't want it."
"Indeed, but we do," said his father, coming up. "Why a handful of
sweet-stuff will make friends with a Boer, when everything else fails.
Here, put this in the fore box. Perhaps, when I bring this out you'll
be glad to get at the sweet-stuff."
"What is it, father?" said Dick.
Mr Rogers opened the little deal case and turned it out, to begin
packing it again.
"Here's a bottle of chloroform, and another of castor oil; two bottles
of chlorodyne; a pound of Epsom salts; four large boxes of pills; a roll
of sticking-plaster; a pot of zinc ointment; and a bottle of quinine and
one of rhubarb and magnesia."
Jack's countenance was a study. For as his father carefully repacked
the little box the lad's face grew into a hideous grimace. He waited
till Mr Rogers had finished his enumeration, and then clapping his
handkerchief over his mouth, he uttered a loud "Ugh!" and ran and stood
a few yards away.
"I shan't go," he cried.
"Why not?" said Mr Rogers, smiling.
"Why the waggon will smell, of nothing but physic. What's the good of
taking it, father?"
"The good? Well, my boy, there's nothing like being prepared; and we
are going far away from doctors, if we wanted their help. We may none
of us be unwell, but it is quite likely that we may, either of us, get a
touch of fever. Besides, we might meet with an accident; and for my
part, as I have a little knowledge of medicine and surgery, I know
nothing more painful than to find people sick and to be unable to give
them the remedy that would make them well. We shall be sure to find
some sick people amongst the natives, and they have a wonderful
appreciation of the white man's medicine."
"Well, look here," said Jack, "if you'll shut the box up very tightly,
I'll consent to come."
Mr Rogers smiled, and did shut the little box up very tightly, after
which the preparations went on; and it was perfectly wonderful to see
what that waggon would hold.
There was a moderate case of wines and spirits, also to act as
medicines; several dozens of coloured blankets for presents; waterproof
sheets. A cask of paraffin oil was swung under the floor, and by it a
little cooking-stove, while beside these swung a long box containing
spades and shovels, for digging the waggon-wheels out of holes, tools
for repairs, wrenches, and jacks and axes, till it seemed as if there
would be no end to the stores and material.
Then leather slings were nailed up under the tilt for the rifles and
guns, so that they might always be ready to hand; for they were going
into the land of wild beasts and savage men. Above all, their stores
had to be so packed that their positions could be remembered, and they
could be obtained when wanted, and yet leave space for blankets to be
spread, and the travellers find room to sleep beneath the tilt upon the
top.
The preparations went on; the black driver who was to manage the oxen
busied himself along with the foreloper, whose duty it is to walk with
the foremost oxen, in getting their great whips in trim, and in seeing
the trek-tow and dissel-boom--as the great trace and pole of the waggon
are called--were perfect; and they practised the team as well.
Many of the readers may not know that for an expedition like this, where
the waggon party expect to be travelling for months, perhaps for a year,
through a country where roads are almost unknown, and where the great
heavily-laden, but wonderfully strongly-made waggon, has to be dragged
over rocks, through swamps, and into and out of rivers, a team of
fourteen, sixteen, or, as in this case, even twenty oxen, will be yoked
to the great chain or rope called the trek-tow. For some of the poor
animals are sure to succumb during the journey; or they may be killed
for food, the loss being not so much felt when a superabundant number is
taken.
With the leading pair of oxen walks the foreloper, whose duty it is to
choose the best road, and to avoid stones and marshy places where the
wheels would sink in; and the success of an expedition depends a good
deal upon having a good foreloper.
In this case Mr Rogers had secured a trusty Kaffir, who had been
frequently into the interior; but his appearance was against him, for he
had lost one eye, from a thrust of a bullock's horn. But Dinny said
that the one left was as good as two, for when Dirk looked at you, it
seemed to go right through your head and tickle the hair behind.