_THE BLACK ANTELOPE._
THE evening darkened into night, but Jack's father did not return.
Tante Milligen had sent her Kafir maid to look for Jack, and when she
heard he was asleep in his father's waggon, she thought it best to
leave him there. But the kind-hearted Black Antelope was troubled, for
his restless sleep convinced her the fever was upon him. She had washed
his sooty clothes for pure love of his fair English face, and laid them
by him in the waggon.
Among the few trifles which had been saved from the fire was Mr.
Treby's drinking-flask, which was in the pocket of his coat, but had
not been destroyed with it. Before he departed, he had filled it with
water for Jack's benefit, and left it, with the remains of the dinner
Tottie had provided, by the sleeping child. Jack could not touch the
bone of cold mutton or the crust of bread, but he drank the water. He
fell asleep with the flask in his hands. It had been a keepsake from
an English friend, and Mr. Treby's name was engraved upon the silver
stopper.
The night was intensely hot, and the moon was near the full. The light
of the lamp still streamed through the half-open door of the sit-kamé,
where Tante Milligen was awaiting the return of her husband and son.
Most of the Kafir servants had been dismissed to their huts for the
night.
Sandford Algarkirke, preferring the company of the fireflies to the
conversation of the Boeress, had retreated to the orange grove, where
he too was listening for the first sound of the horses' feet. But they
were scarcely audible, for the weary travellers rode slowly over the
sandy veldt, and were within sight of the farm before any one at home
was aware of their presence.
The Black Antelope had just paid her last visit to the fever-stricken
child. She found him trying to drain another drop from the now empty
flask. She took it from him, intending to refill it, and was stepping
out of the waggon with it in her hand when the "oom" rode up.
In that brilliant moonlight he saw the silver-mounted flask in the
black girl's hand as clearly as if it had been noonday, and so did
Mr. Treby, who rode beside him. Believing she had stolen it from the
waggon, the Boer leaped from his horse and struck her such a blow with
his clenched fist that she lay moaning on the ground.
"Bread of mine was never yet broken by a thief, and never shall be!" he
exclaimed indignantly, snatching the flask from her unresisting hand
and returning it to Mr. Treby.
The gate of Jaarsveldt was flung open as Tante Milligen and the
schoolmaster ran out to ascertain the cause of the commotion. The rest
of the party spurred forward; but amidst the stamping of hoofs and the
neighing of horses, the Boer's stentorian voice was heard denouncing
the guilty hand that dared to touch the Englishman's goods in his
absence.
"What is he saying?" asked Jack's father in an anxious aside to the
German Otto.
The shepherd translated his master's words, adding, "Your things are
safe enough under Van Immerseel's protection."
"Jah! Jah!" cried Walt, who was standing behind them. "We'll show you
in the morning how we punish a thief at Jaarsveldt. Such gentry, be
their colour what it may, had better not come here."
The noise had effectually roused poor Jack from his feverish sleep. He
saw the Black Antelope, who had been so kind to him all day, staggering
to her feet but he saw his father in the group, and scrambling out of
the waggon, he rushed to him, gasping, "Don't let them hurt her, father
dear! Oh, don't! Don't!" For the Boer had doubled up his gigantic fist
to deal a second blow.
Mr. Treby stepped forward and caught Van Immerseel's arm, expressing
his heartfelt thanks for his timely intervention, yet adding a plea for
mercy to the delinquent.
The Kafir girl cast one loving look of gratitude on Jack, and slunk
away into the shadows.
Tante Milligen, with her arms akimbo, was warmly applauding her
husband's conduct.
Sandford Algarkirke had drawn back into the garden. He held the gate in
his hand, and was listening attentively to every word.
"Please, sir," cried Jack excitedly, "you can make these people
understand. Do come and tell them the poor Kafir girl only went to
fetch me some more water. I am sure she did not mean to steal the
flask."
"Then say so," was the brief reply; "but do not drag me into the
matter."
"Of course I would, if I could speak their Dutch. I ought, I must;
but they do not know what I am saying, so it is of no use. But you
can explain it; and if you do not, they will beat her dreadfully,"
urged Jack. "We must not let the innocent suffer. It is not right, Mr.
Algarkirke."
"Come along, then," returned the young schoolmaster, and taking Jack's
hand he led him into the house, where the travellers were already
seated round the supper-table.
"This little fellow has asked me to be his interpreter," said
Algarkirke as he repeated Jack's assertion.
But the burly Dutchman only laughed.
"Say no more now, Jack," interposed his father, making room for his boy
beside him. "Circumstances are very much against her."
"And circumstances weigh so heavily when you have only innocence
without proof to balance them in the other scale; but she is happy
to have even a child like you to believe in her," added the young
schoolmaster, with a bitterness that made Jack's father think,—
"Some personal experience, something in your own life, gave its sting
to that remark."
"She will never pilfer again," remarked Walt; "she is too true a Kafir
for that. There is the dog-nature in them all—just the same sort of
fidelity, and all that." So the talk ran on, and in the discussions
over more important matters the Black Antelope was forgotten by all but
Jack and the schoolmaster.
The sheep-tracks had been carefully traced, but they did not lead
to the district of the free Kafirs in the valleys among the rocks.
Mr. Treby began to think his Tottie was right in her estimate of the
thieves. But the scare had spread through the whole district. The
police would be here in the morning and until they had investigated the
matter, watch must be kept, for fear the aggressors should return and
attack another of the lonely farms which dotted the sandy waste.
Mr. Treby had encountered his white-haired Hottentot Seco returning. He
brought him word that the new settler at Scarsdorp found the wild life
in that vast karroo too rough for his taste, and had previously decided
to change his sheep-farm and try tobacco-growing in Natal. The news
which Seco carried made him hasten his departure all he could. He would
"trek" at once (as the African settlers say when they move, using the
old Dutch word their neighbours the Boers have made familiar throughout
the district), if he could buy or hire another waggon to carry the rest
of his goods.
Mr. Treby caught at the opportunity this offered him to retrieve his
fortunes. He decided to place his waggon and oxen at his neighbour's
service. For this he would receive a good round sum. He would drive
it himself; and when he had delivered the goods, he must start for
Kimberley and dig for diamonds, until he had gained money enough to
rebuild his house and stock his farm. Van Immerseel was ready to hire
his pasture for the rest of the season, and pay him on his return—not
with money, but with sheep.
Jack, of course, would go with him, for he could work with him at the
diamond diggings. Jack could manage a sieve; his young eyes would be as
sharp as his own to pick out the sparkling diamonds as he sifted the
loosened earth in which they were embedded. The journey would give his
burned arm time to recover its natural strength, before he shouldered
mattock and spade among the crowds of busy workers at the Kimberley
diggings.
Such were the plans that Mr. Treby was revolving, as he did justice to
the cold mutton and steaming coffee Tante Milligen had provided for the
travellers.
"It is chancey work at the diamond mines," remarked the "oom." "A
fellow may dig for weeks and get nothing but dirt for his pains; or he
may make his fortune in a day."
"I can only try," answered Jack's father; "and with God's blessing I
may pull round before another year."
How the young schoolmaster listened, as if he longed to follow his
example.
Otto had been to Kimberley, and he described the giant circle, where
the diamonds were to be found. So much earth had been already scooped
away that he could liken it to nothing but an enormous basin, filled
with men of all colours, grubbing in the earth like human ants. He
spoke of its ceaseless toil and its uncertain gains.
But Mr. Treby still repeated, "I can only try. Hard work won't frighten
me."
It was the look on Jack's face that was frightening him. He saw the
feverish flush and the glittering eyes, and felt him shiver as the
child crept closer and closer to his side.
"What is the matter, my boy?" he whispered.
But Jack did not reply. The group of rough, bearded men hastily
snatching a supper seemed to him no better than the unreal phantoms
of a troubled dream. Tante Milligen's broad, quaint figure, with her
bare arms and borderless cap, seemed everywhere. The talk of dangers
and daring thrilled through his over-excited brain; and then, worse
than all, the great trap-door in the ceiling over his head appeared to
open and shut of itself. The plum-stones which studded the floor seemed
to dance before his eyes, until he hardly knew where he was. But his
father's arm was around him, and to that he clung desperately.
When he came to himself, his father was pouring something down his
throat from a cow's horn; Tante held a candle in her hand, and
was saying something in Dutch. Jack caught the oft-repeated word
"slaap-kamé" (sleep-chamber). At last she opened the door into one of
the side rooms, which Jack could distinguish the curtains of a huge
four-post bed. The room felt hot and stifling as his father carried him
in and laid him down upon the softest pillow Jack had ever known. Tante
Milligen stuck the candle she carried somewhere in the wall.
"There is no sleep for me to-night," said Jack's father. "I do not
expect any disturbance; but come what may, I can keep watch within
doors."
"And I shall share your vigil," interposed the schoolmaster; "so
your little boy can occupy this room (where I was to have slept)
undisturbed. Don't say no, for a dash of adventure has all imaginable
charms for me."
According to Dutch fashion, every breath of air was carefully excluded
from the room, so Mr. Treby set the door ajar, and the light from the
lamp on the supper-table streamed across the floor.
An old Hottentot woman, with her shrivelled, yellow hand, brought a
cool leaf to lay on Jack's forehead, and muttered something over him
like a charm.
Tante Milligen herself fetched a pitcher of herbal tea, and then, with
many maternal shakings of her head and sundry commiserative sounds,
departed to her own slaap-kamé on the other side of the great room,
into which all the doors of the house seemed to open, for the Boer's
house was but one story high. There were lofts in the roof, where
stores were kept, but these were reached by a wooden ladder outside
the house, or through the trap-door which had had so large a share in
Jack's delirious fancies.
He could have slept now, poor boy, but for the snoring duet that was
kept up by the little sisters on the other side of the wall.
The Kafir servants, who had been playing scout all day by turns, came
in to report that all was quiet. Walt decided to go with Otto to his
hut by the sheep-kraals, as on the preceding night. Van Immerseel was
persuaded to lie down on his bed; but he would not undress so that he
could be roused at a moment's notice.
Walt looked in at Mr. Treby before he departed. They showed each other
their loaded rifles, and nodded significantly, as if to say, "We are
ready." Otto, who had followed, stooped down and picked up something
from the floor.
"My knife!" cried Jack, starting upright.
"All right," said his father, laying him gently upon the pillows again.
The German backed into the outer room.
Thinking the entrance of the young men disturbed his Jack, Mr. Treby
followed his example, and taking Walt by the arm, went out also.
Swarms of those hard-winged, spotted flies danced round and round
the candle, until they stuck fast in the burning tallow. A menacing
mosquito buzzed in the curtains of the bed, and banished Jack's last
chance of sleep.
At last the house grew still. Mr. Treby set the door of Jack's room
wide open, so that he might feel the refreshing night-breeze from the
open windows of the sit-kamé.
Believing that his child was dozing, he sat down by the door, with his
face buried in his hands.
Algarkirke waited impatiently for his reverie to end. At last he said,
"We are countrymen, and in a distant land like this that means friends,
and almost brothers, does it not?"
"Of course, of course," returned Mr. Treby absently.
"Then whatever you may have heard about me from your Nottingham
friends, you will not repeat it here."
"I!" returned Jack's father, rousing. "I know nothing about you, an
utter stranger. I can have nothing to tell. It is years since I left
Nottingham."
"It may be useless to ask you to believe me, when I say it was
nothing but my own abominable carelessness made me the victim of
circumstances," he went on bitterly. "And those who called themselves
my friends chose rather to expatriate me than investigate."
"Young man," interrupted Jack's father, "I ask you for no confession;
but if you wish to confide in me, every word you utter will be safe.
But I must remind you beforehand that a man driven to asking help of
his neighbours is not one to look to, to give it."
"You think me a flat," muttered Algarkirke.
"I think you a little too verdant," returned the other. "Whatever your
bygones may have been, you have a chance of beginning a new life out
here. Do not let your own self-consciousness spoil it. Bury the past,
or retrieve it. Remember:
"'Men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.'"
"Could I dig diamonds with you at Kimberley?" was the eager answer to
these words of fatherly advice.
"Did you ever use spade or pick?" asked Mr. Treby in his turn.
But Algarkirke shook his head.
"That answers your own question," returned his companion. "Stick to
what you can do. You've no father, my lad, or you would not have been
pitchforked into these wilds and left to sink or swim. All you brought
with you is lost and gone? So I expected. I only wish I could help you."
"Your little boy told me you wanted to buy a coat. I've one to spare,"
said Algarkirke in a jerky tone, as if the words were forced out one by
one. "I left England for Amsterdam—I had a merchant friend who traded
with that city—but I was soon shipped off to Africa with a letter of
recommendation to a Dutch clergyman at Pretoria. I lived on my money
as long as it lasted. I was in the throes of despair when the grand
church-going week came round. I shall never forget my first sight of
the Boers bringing up their families from long distances in the country
to join in the nachtmaal * service at their church.
"A bright idea occurred to my clerical friend. He found out that a
schoolmaster was wanting in this district, and recommended me to the
post. It was a civil way of freeing himself from a burden. I journeyed
back in one of the Boer's wagons, and began the hopeless task of
teaching the young idea how to shoot in broken Dutch. It is irksome
drudgery; for those Dutch boys are worse than the Irishman's pig; they
will neither be led nor driven. But the worst of it is, I have a few
days now and then between the turns, and how to keep myself I do not
know, until the quarter-day comes to take my promised fees, small as
they are."
* Nachtmaal ("night-meal"), the Lord's Supper.
"'In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch
Is in giving too little and asking too much,'"
laughed Mr. Treby. "Show me this coat, and I'll give you what I can for
it."
Algarkirke went into the room for his portmanteau, which he unstrapped
softly, for fear of disturbing Jack. But the little fellow was wide
awake again, and very anxious to see the coat his father was going
to buy. It was of gray traveller's tweed, a little stained with
salt-water, but not much the worse for wear. But, alas no endeavours
could squeeze Mr. Treby's well-developed shoulders into a garment
made to fit young Algarkirke's slim figure. His disappointment was
excessive. He looked at the half-sovereign in Mr. Treby's hand and bit
his lip.
"Like my wretched luck!" he exclaimed. "But stop! I have another that I
left behind me at Inderwick—a light dust-coat, too big for me. Neither
is it properly my own; a friend lent it to me one wet day just before I
left England. It was packed up with my luggage by mistake. 'Keep it,'
he wrote, 'it is not worth returning.' You could wear that, I am sure."
"Can you let me have it before I start?" asked Mr. Treby.
"The people here have promised to send me on to the next farm; it is a
part of our bargain. I will ask the man who drives me to bring it back,
if that will do. I leave here the day after tomorrow," said Algarkirke,
closing his fingers over the gold Mr. Treby dropped into his hand.
His exuberant gratitude was checked by the quiet remark, "We must all
do as we would be done by. The strangers in the post-cart helped me
yesterday, and I'm glad to be able to help you to-night."