Existence, for the next five days, was the most enjoyable that our
heroes had ever experienced.
They were in a perfect hunter's paradise; in fact, so plentiful and
varied were the specimens they saw, that the prairie appeared like a
well-stocked preserve. The game was so trusting and fearless also, that
they had about as little trouble to bring it down as sportsmen at home
have over pheasant-shooting.
It was glorious, but it seemed too good to last long. When a man gets
everything his own way for a time, he is apt to begin foreboding evil to
come. This is an instinct which is planted in man to warn him against
improvidence. Life is made up of changes, and neither success nor
misfortune can last for ever.
Our heroes had been trusting entirely to chance so far. What they
killed they had partaken as much as they wanted for the day, leaving the
remainder to be devoured by the beasts who came after them, and the
morrow to provide for itself.
But now Ned began to think it wise to prepare a stock of food to carry
with them, in case the present supply failed.
With this object in view, he made easy marches, and devoted a portion of
each day to more deliberate hunting, turning into "biltong" what they
did not at present require. These were pleasant occupations to the
whole company, and they went along with cheerful hearts.
As far as they had proceeded the land appeared to be ownerless, or in
the undisputed possession of the grass-feeding and flesh-devouring
fauna. There were no pathways, no signs that any other human feet had
ever trod over these plains prior to their own advent. This was
encouraging, but it also made them wonder.
To reach it they had come through a pestilential belt, which might have
hitherto deterred humanity on that side. But what prevented them from
reaching it from other directions?
This made Ned and his companions thoughtful when they discussed and
speculated upon the yet unknown problem. Was it surrounded by
impassable forests, or worse?
This they were resolved to discover, but the surmise of what might be
made them take every necessary precaution, so as to be prepared for
whatever chanced.
Meantime they revelled in the gifts which were within their reach. They
were possessed of everything that was needful to make adventurous men
happy--excepting, perhaps, notepaper, and that luxury they had learnt by
this time to get along very contentedly without. The weather was simply
perfect. Hot sunshine during the day, with pretty nearly always a fair
breeze. Cool dry nights, when they could enjoy their camp-fires and
their fur coverings.
They clung to the banks of the stream that still coursed along
unfailingly.
It was of lesser volume now, however, as they had crossed several
smaller tributaries that fed it, so that it was about half the width it
had been in the forest. But it was still of passable size and depth,
considering they were in the midst of the dry season. It flowed
smoothly now, yet with considerable current, and with few windings.
At parts the banks widened out and became nearly level. In these parts
it lost its depth, and was a series of swampy and shallow marshes with a
narrow winding brook in the centre. These ponds, being thickly covered
with rushes and jungle, were densely filled with feathered game:
koorhaan, francolins, quail, and snipe, also flamingoes, storks, and
ibis birds. Once or twice they started some Koro bustards, and dined
sumptuously on the delicate dainty.
They could always tell when they were approaching one of these marshy
stretches from the dwindled state of the stream; however, after these
were passed the beds became fuller again, as it was constantly being fed
by tributaries, and appeared to be one of the principal watersheds.
Round the base of kopjes it wound, rippling clear and unceasingly over
its rocky and clay beds; growing smaller as they advanced, yet with
pools deep enough to furnish their daily bath, and fringed with
brushwood enough to feed their fires.
Every hour they got within range of large herds of African game of some
description or other. Zebra, quagga, and giraffes crossed their path
frequently; antelopes of every variety were met and shot constantly.
Droves of eland, koodoo, hartebeest, reed-buck, and other kinds,
evidently throve here, in spite of their natural enemies, that were also
plentiful.
They had several encounters with lions during the day, and never a night
passed without their presence being announced by their loud roaring. As
the moon increased, they were able to see these majestic beasts prowling
outside their camp, with their numerous hangers-on, the wolves, hyenas,
and jackals, all helping to render night hideous. Several times, also,
they roused a cheetah, and seldom failed to bring the tiger of Africa to
book when seen.
As yet, however, they had not met either buffaloes or elephants on this
plain.
Ned kept strictly to his programme, and led his company straight across
the plateau, only turning a little out of the straight course when
stalking down some special prey. He always returned, however, to his
bee-line as soon as the sport was run to earth.
The distant mountains were his landmark. Each day they were getting
nearer and more sharply outlined against the limpid sky. The stream
trended directly towards them.
They had taken matters easy during these five days, seldom covering more
than ten or twelve miles each day of straight travelling. Some days
they had not covered half that distance. On Sundays they always rested;
and as a Sunday had been spent on the plateau, they reckoned that they
had put in about thirty-eight to forty miles since leaving the forest.
The mountains still lay, as nearly as they were able to calculate, about
thirty miles away. These had been rising gradually on their view, until
now they loomed a considerable height over the horizon.
As far as our heroes could judge of the ranges, they appeared sterile,
rocky, and uninviting; rugged in outline, with upstarting and fantastic
peaks, that broke against the sky like great tors.
When the sun shone upon them, the adventurers could see patches of tawny
light, with serrated edges and ragged shadows of violet. There were
also long zigzag lines of deeper purple, that looked like chasms and
steep precipices. Nothing like vegetation appeared to line those bleak
and rugged ridges.
"If we are in the land of plenty now, yonder appears to be the land of
desolation," observed Clarence.
"Yes; I fancy we shall see something different over there from what we
have hitherto experienced," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Fortunately, our
friend `Rhodes River' still is with us."
"It is also growing, like the game, beautifully less as we advance,"
remarked Fred.
It was true. The stream was only a rivulet now, hardly six feet wide,
and not above the ankle in depth. The game they were leaving behind,
and a wave of hot wind seemed to spread from those rocky mountains.
They made longer marches now, covering on the first day twenty miles,
and bringing up at sundown to where they could see the details of the
mountains very distinctly.
During that day they had seen, in the extreme distance, a herd of
quaggas bounding away to their rear, and later on had been able to bring
down four white-tailed gnus. These were enough for their supper, and
they had plenty of dried meat.
They camped by the side of the brook, now less than a yard wide. They
had crossed no feeders for the past two days.
The soil round them was more stony and bare than it had been, yet close
to the stream the banks were fertile. Before them the ground spread
like a desert.
The mountain range in front was forbidding in the extreme. The nearer
lap rose abruptly from the plain like a rocky coast. Huge wall-like
precipices, that looked impassable, except where great rents yawned
darkly at places.
Ned examined these chasms long and silently. The others looked at him
expectantly.
"Well, Ned, old fellow, what do you think of those gateways?" asked
Clarence.
"Not much--except as gateways," answered Ned, quietly.
"Then you mean to go on?"
"I should like to see where they lead to--yes, we must see where they
lead to," he added, in a more determined voice. "It would never do to
go back and say we were checked by a few rocks. As long as the road
lies open and our supplies last, I'll go on, if you will back me up."
"Right you are. We won't leave you to go forward by yourself," replied
both Fred and Clarence, while Cocoeni and the Kaffirs nodded grimly
their willingness to go also wherever they were led.
For the first time since leaving Rhodesia the sense of his
responsibility pressed heavily upon Ned. As he lay that night and
looked over towards the shadowy outlines of those barren rocks, he felt
his resolution waver somewhat. He had many lives under his charge, men
who were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to go. Where was he
about to lead them now?
Death by thirst and want seemed to lurk within those desolate craigs,
which revealed no speck of gnus upon their tawny and red breasts, and
only the arid shelter of shadow within their stony flanks.
He curiously began to think what must have been the feelings of Moses
when he looked at the naked peaks of Attika, after he had seen the
pursuing hosts of Pharaoh overwhelmed. These rocks in front of him
could not be more inhospitable than were the red mountains of Attika.
Yet they had been the entrances to the promised land.
The rank forest had not appalled him as those stern, dry cliffs now did.
Yet the forest held as many dangers--indeed, it hid more varied forms
of horrors than these chasms could: death in the shape of fever, and
submerging in loathsome and treacherous morasses; from venomous
snake-bites, and crocodiles, lions, tigers, and the poisoned arrows of
lurking savages. There was nearly every kind of peril to be encountered
in the forest except one, and here it waited for them--at least, so it
seemed to Ned and his companions--the peril of thirst, the most dreaded
of dooms, next to fire, which humanity shrinks back from encountering.
Would he go on with those dauntless fellows, and dare that terrible
risk, or turn back before it was too late?
The half-moon silvered the ground with cool lustre. A little way off he
saw several soft-footed, slouching forms prowling about, with swinging
tails and luminous, emerald-green eyes, that betrayed them. While he
watched their restless motions, and the rolling heave of their lean
hips, he became conscious of the musical ripple of that ever-flowing, if
diminished, brooklet.
"It comes from those sterile mountains," he murmured. "And while it
still flows, we are in no danger of perishing from thirst."
Braced up with this comforting solace, his momentary timidity and
irresolution passed away, and he felt once more cheerful. Moses and
Aaron had faith. So had the other explorers, both in Africa and on the
frightful waterless deserts of Australia, and many of these daring,
purposeful heroes had endured all and returned to tell the tale. With
manly pride he crushed out all recollections of those who had never
returned, and dwelt only on the lives of those who had come back.
"Nothing venture, nothing win. If I bring down that nearest lion with
the first shot, I'll take that as a sign that we will be successful."
The beast in question was squatting at that moment on its haunches, like
a great dog, with its face full towards him, and its phosphorescent eyes
shining like lamps.
It was less than thirty yards away, and seemed to be glaring full at
him. Doubtless it was waiting and hoping that the dreaded camp-fire
would presently burn out, so that it might get one of those tempting
figures which were stretched round it. About a dozen of its companions
were sitting or moving about, inspired by the same idea that now
engrossed its leonine fancy.
It was a splendid target, for it sat as motionless as if it had been one
of the boulders that were scattered round. Ned smiled broadly as he
brought his twelve-bore double Metford rifle to his shoulder, and took a
careful aim at the dark space between those glowing lamps. It seemed
trying for a sign with a pretty certain conclusion. Yet if he chanced
to miss, then, indeed, he might well take this as a bad omen.
With a report that startled the sleepers, the rifle exploded, and made
them all leap to their feet. But before the sound came, Ned had the
satisfaction of beholding the lion bound into the air and roll over on
its side, with those green lamps extinguished for ever.
"What's up now, Ned?" cried Clarence and Fred, rubbing their eyes.
"Only a bit of an experiment I was trying," answered Ned, laughing, as
he watched the other prowlers scurrying off with their tails between
their legs like frightened curs. "That old fellow was sitting a little
bit too near my rifle for his health."
"Was that your experiment?" asked the boys, as they looked sulkily at
the dead lion. "You needn't have woke the whole camp for that easy
practice."
"I wanted to see if I could possibly miss him, for I had made it the
condition whether we should go on or turn back."
"As if any one could miss such a mark! Your ordeal of signs is like
what the testing of witches used to be--pretty safe to turn out as you
wished it."
"I might have missed, you know; aiming in the moonlight has always some
degree of uncertainty about it," said Ned, modestly.
"Some few of the reputed witches must also have escaped drowning, but
precious few did so, I have read," answered Clarence, sarcastically.
"Then, I suppose, since you must have blown the brains out of that
carcase, the sign is, `Go on and--risk it'?"
"Yes; that is the result," replied Ned. "Go on and--succeed."
"That is the consummation devoutly to be wished. Now, don't waste any
more bullets on signs in the shape of lions--until our watch below is
over, at any rate. Be sure, Sir Oracle. We are off again to the arms
of Morpheus."