There was no time to lose, for, to the dismay of all, Peter announced
that he had found tsetse fly that afternoon upon the two horses that had
been grazing near the waggon.
"Three horses gone, boys," said Mr Rogers. "It is a bad job; but it
would have been worse if it had happened to your pets. We must be well
on the way back into a more wholesome country before day, so lie down
and have a rest at once. The General or the boys shall go on with you,
so that you may try to save your nags. I'll come on with the rest."
"But your horses don't seem any the worse for it, father," said Dick.
"No, my boy, and it may not show for days; but the poison will work, and
they will gradually grow weaker and weaker. They are all doomed."
"But is there no cure for it, father?"
"None that I know of, my boys; and it must act as a preventative to the
opening out of this grand country to civilisation, unless man can
improve these poisonous little pests off the face of the earth."
"It is wonderful," cried Dick; "such a little fly to do so much
mischief."
Coffee and Chicory aroused them hours before it was day, and with the
understanding that they were to keep on till night straight back upon
their old track, the boys started, enjoying to a certain extent the
journey without the waggon, but feeling the awful loneliness of the
country now more and more.
They made the best of their way on, however, getting over all the ground
possible, not halting till it was almost dark, and hardly leaving
themselves time to collect enough wood for a roaring fire, which they
kept blazing turn and turn, for they were in a place where from the
sounds they heard lions seemed to be plentiful once more.
The next morning they were able to add some guinea-fowl and a little
gazelle to their scanty store of dried meat, and as they had nothing now
to do but wait for the coming of the waggon, they amused themselves by
exploring a little here and there as their horses grazed, their ramble
resulting in the discovery of many beautiful flowers and insects, such
as they had not seen before.
That day went by, but still no waggon arrived; and as they again made up
their roaring fire, the boys felt no little uneasiness, till they began
to recall what a slow leisurely crawl was that of the ox-team, and that
they had come over the greater part of their journey at a brisk canter,
with which, by holding on to the cob's mane, the two Zulu boys seemed to
have no difficulty in keeping up.
But all doubts were solved the next morning by the arrival of the
waggon, those who accompanied it being only too ready to join in the
roast ready for breakfast.
There had been no delay; the length of time was only due to the slow
progress of the oxen; and this slow progress continued, as, avoiding the
back track, they made their way by another route to where King Moseti
was ready to receive them with open arms, and was made happy by the
presentation of some of the surplus store of beads and other trifles,
Mr Rogers retaining merely enough for their wants on the way back.
The king was eager enough to be generous in turn, presenting his guests
with several tusks aid some beautiful skins and ostrich feathers, which
added in no little decree to the travellers' store.
Here Mr Rogers shot a couple of hippopotami, and the boys made some
good practice amongst the hideous crocodiles that were every day killing
some one or other of the king's subjects. Now it was a girl gone down
to draw water; at another time a boy venturing to bathe. And the
travellers could not help admiring the love of cleanliness amongst these
people, for too often they had to risk their lives for the sake of a
bathe.
The horses had now begun to show signs of having been bitten by the
tsetse fly, the chestnut and grey displaying roughened skins and a
general uneasiness; while the bay, though slightly roughened about the
coat, still held out.
They lost no time then in getting on with their journey southwards,
meeting with plenty of vicissitudes in the shape of hunger, heat, and
thirst, but taking these calmly, along with the good things; and at last
the Limpopo was once more reached.
The reader of this, who knows how easily a person may have his tea in
London and his breakfast the next morning in Scotland--400 miles--may be
surprised to hear that to get over such a distance in South Africa with
a heavy waggon and an ox-team takes over a month; and a driver and
foreloper would consider that they had done well if they had achieved so
much.
For hurrying means losing ground. The oxen must be kept well-fed with
good pasture, and not overworked, or in a few hours sores will be
produced by the harsh yokes that will take a month to cure, if they ever
heal at all.
But the country was grand, and the weather exceptionally lovely, as they
made their way southward, crossing the Limpopo without accident, in
spite of the crocodiles, Dinny managing to get a place on the top of the
waggon-tilt just before they started to ford the stream.
"Why, what are you doing there, Dinny?" cried Dick, who was the first to
see him.
"Shure, Masther Dick, dear, I was feared for these valuable skins that
lie stretched out here, for I says to meself, `Dinny,' I says, `if the
masther was to have thim skins slip off into the dirthy river, he'd
never forgive himself.'"
So amidst a good deal of laughter Dinny crossed over the crocodile river
on the top of the tilt; while, as much alarmed as he, the dogs, taught
by experience, kept close behind the aftermost oxen's heels, swimming
with the protection of the waggon-wheels on either side.
Mr Rogers proposed that they should go back by way of the district
where there were some curious caves, saying that it would be a pity to
be within reach and not to see them. So with the intent of making a
halt near them, the General announcing his intention of finding the
place, though he had never been there before, the return journey was
continued.
This return journey was, as maybe supposed, one of months, but it was
not uneventful. The constant demands of the larder rendered hunting
necessary almost every day; and in these hunting expeditions beautiful
skins, and horns of great size and peculiarity, were obtained. Every
day, too, added to the collection of gorgeously-plumaged birds and
bright beetles; several times over, too, they were able to add a goodly
bundle of ostrich plumes to the store.
It may sound strange, but over this even Dinny felt aggrieved, coming to
Dick coolly enough one night, just before sleeping time, with,--
"Would ye mind handing me out two or three of thim bundles o' feathers,
Masther Dick, dear?"
"What for, Dinny?" he asked in astonishment.
"An' is it what for?" said Dinny indignantly; "shure, an' ye wouldn't
have a boy slape on the bare flure, when ye've got hapes of feather to
make beds with inside?"
Poor Dinny was sent to the right about, and the feathers had a very
narrow escape the very next day from being burned to blackened ashes.