The second breakfast over, farewells were spoken--with, in some cases,
the promise to meet again speedily--and the voyagers separated, some to
make their way home to their sugar or coffee estates in the
neighbourhood, others to take train to more distant localities, some
three or four being bound as far afield as Johannesburg or Pretoria--and
Dick, with his friend Grosvenor, set out to wander about the town of
Durban, inspect the shops, pass through the aristocratic quarter of the
Berea, per tram, and finally, on a couple of horses hired from the hotel
stable, to ride out to the River Umgeni, and thence to Sea Cow Lake, in
the vain hope of getting a sight of a few of the hippopotami that were
said to still haunt that piece of water; finally returning to the hotel
in time for dinner, hot, tired, but supremely happy, and delighted with
everything that they had seen.
During the progress of the meal they made the acquaintance of a Mr
Gerald Muspratt, a coffee planter, whose estate was situate some twelve
miles distant, in the adjoining county of Victoria; and, the
acquaintance ripening over the after-dinner coffee, with that breathless
celerity which is one of the most charming characteristics of the
Colonies, before retiring for the night the two friends had accepted
Muspratt's very pressing invitation to ride out with him to his place
next morning, and spend a couple of days there with him to look round
the estate and be introduced to Muspratt's two or three neighbours.
This they did in due course, the two days' visit lengthening itself into
four, and ending by the acceptance of another invitation, this time from
a sugar planter whose estate, Mount Pleasant, was situate some fourteen
miles farther up the coast, on the other side of the Umhloti River.
This invitation Dick would fain have declined, for he was impatient to
begin the real business that lay before them; but Grosvenor was so
charmed with the country and everything that he saw in it, and
especially with the spontaneous kindness, friendliness, and hospitality
of its people, that he seemed in no hurry to rush away from it all and
bury himself in the wilderness. As it happened, neither of the young
men had any reason to regret the time thus spent, for their host, an
old-time transport rider, named Mitchell, had penetrated far beyond the
Zambezi in his younger days, was an experienced hunter, knew the
interior, its inhabitants, and their peculiarities as well as, if not
better than, any other man living, and was brimful of information and
hints absolutely invaluable to the new arrivals, which he freely
imparted. When told of the nature and scope of the young men's
projected adventure, however, he shook his head dubiously, and strongly
urged them to abandon the idea of attempting more than just a few
months' big-game shooting.
"Mind you," he said, "I strongly sympathise with you in your very
ambitious aims, ridiculous as many men would pronounce them, for I was
animated by precisely the same desire myself when I was a youngster of
about your age," turning to Grosvenor.
"By Jove! you don't say so?" ejaculated Grosvenor, surprised and
delighted to meet a man of such wide experience as Mitchell who did not
pronounce his plans chimerical; for it must be stated that thus far the
enunciation of those plans had been almost invariably received with
either covert or open ridicule. "Then," he continued, "do I understand
that you believe in the possibility of finding the site of ancient
Ophir?"
"Well--yes--you may understand me to mean that--in a general way," was
Mitchell's somewhat guarded admission. "But," he continued, "if you ask
whether I think it probable that you will discover either Ophir or the
mysterious white race which rumour has asserted to exist somewhere in
the far interior, I answer: Certainly not."
"The dickens!" exclaimed Grosvenor. "But why, my dear sir, why?"
"Well--if you will not be offended by my exceeding candour--chiefly
because I think you both much too young and too inexperienced to have
any chance of succeeding in so very formidable an undertaking," was the
somewhat discouraging reply.
"Yes, of course," admitted Grosvenor, "it is true that we are both quite
inexperienced; but our youth is surely in our favour rather than against
us, for we are strong and healthy, and no doubt will soon become inured
to fatigue, hardship, and even privation. We both have splendid
constitutions; and, moreover, my friend Maitland here is a doctor and
surgeon of quite remarkable ability, which fact I regard as of the
utmost importance. Then, as to the matter of experience, I imagine that
we are bound to acquire that as we go on; we are not going to be
transported into the heart of the wilds in a few hours by express train,
you know."
"No," answered Mitchell, with a somewhat grim smile, "that is quite
true, as is also your contention that you will acquire some experience
as you go on. Then, of course, the fact that Mr Maitland is a doctor
and surgeon--of which I was unaware--is a great point in your favour.
But, when all is said, I still think that you will find the undertaking
too much for you. Why-- By the way, did you ever hear of a certain
Charles Menzies?"
"The explorer, you mean? Yes, I have heard of him; in fact I believe it
was an account of his travels that first put this idea into my head,"
answered Grosvenor.
"Ah!" remarked Mitchell cryptically; "I wonder just how much you have
heard respecting his travels?"
"Well, not very much, I must confess," acknowledged Grosvenor. "So far
as I can remember, it amounted simply to the statement that after one of
his long absences from civilisation he returned with the story that he
had actually discovered the site of ancient Ophir; and that he had
gathered reliable information concerning the existence of the mysterious
white race, which is to be one of the objects of my quest."
"Just so," commented Mitchell, relapsing into a pregnant silence. It
was evident that he was intently considering some difficult question.
Presently he looked up and said:
"I knew Menzies very well in my younger days. As a matter of fact I
saved his life; for had I not happened to have fallen in with him and
picked him up he must have inevitably perished; and in that case the
public would never have heard any of the extraordinary rumours
respecting his discoveries that afterwards leaked out. I was away up-
country elephant hunting at the time, and I found him, some seventy
miles this side of the Zambezi, in the last stages of exhaustion from
starvation. He was then returning from the journey that made him
famous, and had lost everything he possessed, even to his rifle; it is
therefore nothing short of marvellous that he had contrived to make his
way as far back as he did when I found him. He was too ill to talk much
when I first picked him up, but afterwards, when he grew stronger, he
told me the whole astounding story of his journey and his adventures.
He talked of publishing the narrative, but I very strongly dissuaded him
from doing so; for, as I pointed out to him, there were portions of that
narrative which were of so absolutely incredible a character that nobody
would believe them, and the story would lose all value from the fact
that it would be regarded as merely a fantastic fabrication, and he
would gain the reputation of an unblushing romancer. To tell you the
truth, I was firmly persuaded at the time that what he had gone through
had affected his brain, and that he was the victim of a series of the
most weird and horrible illusions. But I had reason to modify my
opinion in that respect a few years afterward, although I am still
unable to make up my mind definitely as to just how much of his story
was true and how much was due to an imagination that had become warped
and distorted by peril and suffering."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Grosvenor, with a sort of thrill in his voice. "I
say, you know, all this is intensely interesting. Eh, what? I wonder
if you would mind repeating to us a few of those statements that you
found it so difficult to believe at the time, and with regard to which
you were afterwards inclined to modify your opinion?"
"Well," answered Mitchell, "I am afraid I must ask you to excuse me from
doing that. You see, Menzies was my friend, and one of the finest
fellows that ever lived. He is dead now, poor chap, and I would not
willingly say a single word that might cause you or anyone else to think
lightly of him, or picture him in your mind as other than the very soul
of truth and honour. Yet if I were to repeat to you some of the
statements that I have in my mind, I know that you two hard-headed,
matter-of-fact Englishmen would at once set them down as the veriest
fairy tales, their author a second Munchausen, and myself a credulous
old fool for attaching the slightest weight to them. And yet, let me
tell you, Africa is a very queer country--as you will discover if you
persist in attempting to carry out your plan--and queer things happen in
it, things that strain a man's credulity to the breaking-point, until he
has had personal experience of them. That remark of Shakespeare's, that
`there are more things in heaven and earth than are reckoned in our
philosophy' is nowhere more forcefully confirmed than in this continent
of Africa, and especially in those parts of it which are practically
unknown to the white man. Why, even here, close at hand, among our
neighbours the Zulus, there have been happenings--well authenticated,
mind you--that are absolutely unexplainable by any knowledge that we
whites possess. But I think I have prosed enough for one sitting, and
it is growing late--one o'clock, as I am a living sinner!--and you must
be growing tired. Do you wonder why I have told you all these things?
Well, it is because I should like to dissuade you from this mad scheme
of yours, which my experience tells me can only end in disaster, and
induce you to content yourselves with a two-months' hunting trip in the
company of some good man who knows the country, and can be trusted to
see that you come to no harm. Now, good night, both of you! think over
what I have said; sleep well, and don't dream of fantastic horrors such
as my talk may have suggested."
If Mr Joseph Mitchell, sugar planter, and thoroughly honest, well-
meaning man, flattered himself that the foregoing conversation would
have any other effect than to stimulate the curiosity of his guests and
confirm them in their determination to carry out their plans in their
entirety, he very greatly over-estimated his persuasive powers, and
completely misread the characters of those to whom he had been talking.
For both Grosvenor and Maitland were of a highly adventurous
disposition, and what Mitchell had told them had simply whetted their
curiosity to a keen edge, and had strongly suggested to them that the
adventure promised to be of an even more alluring and thrilling
character than they had ever ventured to hope, even in their most
sanguine moments. So much, indeed, they made clear to their host when
they met him the next morning at the breakfast table; and, when he would
have made a further attempt at dissuasion, laughingly assured him that
their minds were finally made up, and that the kindest thing he could
now do for them would be to give them as much information and as many
hints and wrinkles as he could think of to help them to a satisfactory
conclusion of the adventure. This Mitchell proceeded to do, when at
length the conviction had been borne in upon him that all his efforts at
dissuasion were worse than useless; and when, two days later, they took
leave of the genial planter, Dick carried away with him a notebook
crowded from cover to cover with information that was destined to prove
of incalculable value to him and his companion, as well as a sketch map
showing the best route to follow, and certain localities that were to be
most carefully avoided if they desired to return sane and sound to
civilisation.
Arrived in Durban once more, after a most delightful jaunt, they at once
set about making their preparations in earnest, one of the first things
which Grosvenor insisted upon doing being the payment to Dick of six
months' salary in advance, from the date of their landing upon South
African soil. Practically the whole of this Dick was able to remit home
to his mother, since Grosvenor would not hear of his contributing so
much as a single penny toward the expenses of the expedition, therefore
the junior member of the partnership had no need to spend anything,
except for a few curios which he thought his mother might like to
display to her friends; but he laid in a few additional drugs, and also
added a spare instrument or two to his surgical case, to cover the
possibility of loss or accident.
Three days later they started for Johannesburg, by way of Delagoa Bay
and Pretoria, Grosvenor being very anxious to get a glimpse of life on
the Rand and to gain some knowledge of diamonds and diamond mining
before he finally bade farewell to civilisation. Since Johannesburg lay
on the direct line of their route, and the knowledge sought might
possibly prove useful in the future, Dick raised no objection to the
proposal, especially as they went armed with letters of introduction
from Mitchell to some of the most influential of the Rand magnates and
others whose advice and assistance would be exceedingly helpful. A busy
three weeks spent in the city and at Witwatersrand enriched them with
much very valuable information, both particular and general, and also
enabled them to acquire four excellent horses and an Indian coolie groom
named Ramoo Samee, who not only bore a most admirable character, but
also raised no objection when informed of the nature and scope of the
adventure upon which his employers were bound. Here, too, and also at
Pretoria, the partners endeavoured to secure the services of a hunter as
guide and general superintendent, but were unable to meet with one who
conformed in all respects to their requirements; they therefore
ultimately decided to defer their further quest until their arrival in
Bulawayo, which was to be the point from which they would finally bid
farewell to civilisation.
But upon their arrival at Bulawayo, although they met with no difficulty
in providing themselves with a brand-new wagon and a team of twenty
"salted" oxen, together with a Hottentot driver named Jantje, and a
Kafir boy named 'Nkuku as voorlouper, no suitable candidate for the post
of guide offered himself or could be found; and finally, after devoting
a full week to fruitless search and enquiry, Dick and Grosvenor agreed
to start without one, and trust to luck and their own good sense.
Everybody, with one solitary exception, declared that it was a most
risky thing to do; but the solitary exception, in the shape of an old
Boer farmer named Van Zyl, applauded their pluck, and declared that they
were far more likely to succeed by learning the lesson of the wild for
themselves, and depending upon their own courage and adaptiveness, than
if they set out under the guidance of another, and remained more or less
in leading strings throughout the journey.
"What I would advise," he said, "is that you should look out for a good
`nigger'; he will be far more helpful to you than any white man, and
will be content to be a good servant to you--if you are careful to keep
him in his proper place--instead of trying to be your master."
This sounded like good, sensible advice, coming as it did from a man who
had been born, brought up, and had spent a long life on the borderline
separating civilisation from savagedom, and it finally confirmed them in
the determination, to which they had already practically come, to do
without a white guide.
According to Mitchell, their route from Bulawayo lay generally in a
north-easterly direction, and accordingly, after transacting all their
business, making every possible preparation for the long journey before
them, and writing their final letters home, announcing the fact that
they were about to plunge into the wilderness, and that, therefore, no
further news must be expected of them for an indefinite period, they set
out about ten o'clock on a certain glorious morning, boldly striking
straight out across the veldt, and directing their course by compass.
Their wagon was already fully loaded, the load consisting of several
air-tight cases of ammunition, six barrels of flour, a cask of sugar, a
bag of coffee, a chest of tea, a small keg of brandy--to be used only in
cases of the utmost emergency--a case containing pickles, condiments,
preserves, salt, and other articles of a similar character, to be
regarded as luxuries and used accordingly; their own personal belongings
including clothes and firearms, a small tent made of waterproof material
for sleeping in, two net hammocks with portable supports, a full set of
cooking utensils, four sacks of mealie meal, and, finally, two large
boxes of beads of various kinds, a quantity of brass wire, and a case of
cheap mechanical and other toys, small mirrors, etcetera which Grosvenor
had had the foresight to bring out from England with him, the last three
items being destined to be employed in bartering with the natives. All
this constituted quite as heavy a load as it was at all desirable to put
upon the wagon, although the full team of twenty oxen made light of it,
especially as it was now the dry season, and the ground was firm and
hard for travelling. As for Dick and Grosvenor, they travelled on
horseback, changing their steeds at every outspan, in order to accustom
the animals to them, and gradually to get them into good, hard condition
by working them to a certain extent every day. They rode armed each
with a good, serviceable sporting rifle, capable of dealing with
practically any game except elephant, a formidable hunting knife, and a
revolver; and, in addition, each of them carried a pair of the finest
and most powerful binocular glasses that Grosvenor had been able to
procure in London. He had had the foresight to provide two pairs in
case of accident, which was fortunate, for now each rider was
independent of the other. Acting upon the advice of their friend Van
Zyl, they confined themselves strictly to short treks, averaging about
five miles each, and three treks per day, for the first four days, in
order to keep the oxen in good condition as long as possible.
Those first four days of their march were quite uneventful, the going
was good, the grass still rich and abundant, water plentiful, and there
was just enough game to keep the party well supplied with meat, while
the animals worked well and improved in condition rather than otherwise,
especially the horses, which proved to be even more promising than their
owners had hoped for when they purchased them.
It was on the morning of the fifth day that the party encountered what
might be spoken of as their first exciting incident, and it occurred, or
rather began, as they were nearing the end of their first trek, about
nine o'clock in the morning. Dick and Grosvenor, mounted as usual, with
the half-dozen dogs that constituted their pack quartering the ground
ahead of them, were nearly a mile ahead of the wagon, looking out for a
suitable spot for the first outspan, when a sudden clamour on the part
of the dogs, who had just disappeared over a low rise in the ground,
caused the two riders to put spurs to their horses, in order to see what
was the cause of the outcry. A short gallop sufficed to carry them to
the crest of the ridge, when they beheld the dogs baying and snarling
round a fine, well-set-up native "boy", who, armed with assagais and
knobkerrie, constituted one of a party of some thirty in number who
appeared to be guarding a herd of about three hundred grazing cattle,
while about half a mile farther on was a native village of some fifty
Kafir huts of the usual beehived shape, built in the midst of a number
of mealie fields occupying an area of, roughly, about half a square
mile, situated near the banks of a small stream.
Dick Maitland, who had early developed a rather remarkable aptitude for
picking up the language of the natives, at once cantered forward, and,
calling off the dogs, demanded to know the name of the village, and
where would be the best place at which to outspan. But the native whom
he addressed, and who seemed to be labouring under considerable
excitement, replied with such a rapid flow of words that his speech was
utterly unintelligible, save that his communication had something to do
with lions, the boy pointing first to a big clump of bush about a mile
distant, and then to the village itself. Dick made several attempts to
arrive at a better understanding of the nature of the communication, but
without any very marked success, and at length suggested that Grosvenor
should ride back to the wagon and hurry it forward, in order that
Jantje, the Hottentot driver, might act as interpreter. This was done,
and about twenty minutes later the wagon arrived, and the situation was
explained to Jantje, who forthwith poured out a flood of eloquence upon
the little band of natives, who by this time had gathered round Dick and
were earnestly endeavouring to make him understand something that they
evidently regarded as of very great importance. A brief but animated
conversation at once ensued, at the end of which Jantje turned to his
employers and explained:
"Dhese people say, sars, dat dhere is four, five lion in de bush yander
and dhey won' go 'way, and dhey wan' to know if white gent'men be so
kind as to kill dhem lion; because if dhey not be killed dhey kill de
poor Kafirs' cattle. Two day ago dhem lion kill two oxen and mos'
horrible maul de boy dat was herding dhem."
"Phew! lions, eh?" exclaimed Grosvenor. "I say, Maitland, this is good
news, eh, what? I am longing for the chance to have a pot at a lion.
All right, Jantje; you tell them that we will kill the lions for them
with the greatest of pleasure. We'll outspan at once and set about the
business forthwith. That will be the right thing to do, I suppose,
Dick, won't it?"
"Yes, certainly," answered Dick, "by all means. But before we think of
tackling those lions I must see that poor beggar who was mauled. Two
days ago! By Jove, I dread to think of what the state of his wounds
must be in this hot weather, that is, if he is still alive. Just ask
them, Jantje, whether the boy who was mauled is still living, or whether
the lions killed him?"
The question was put, and Jantje duly interpreted the reply.
"Yes, sar, de boy he still alive, but most drefful sick, dhese people
say."
"Good!" exclaimed Dick, dismounting from his horse. "Then say to them
that I am a great doctor, and that I intend to save the poor fellow's
life if I can. I want one of them to carry my medicine chest for me,
and to take me to the injured man's hut. Then you had better take the
wagon down and outspan near the river, where the grass is good, but
where our oxen are not likely to get among the mealies, and then come to
me, for I shall probably need you to interpret for me."
The first part of this speech being interpreted to the little crowd of
natives, one of them at once stepped forward, expressing himself as
willing to carry the medicine chest and act as guide, while another
volunteered to point out a suitable and convenient spot upon which to
outspan, the others forthwith breaking into a song of thanksgiving in
which they announced to all and sundry that this was their lucky day,
inasmuch as that the white _'mlungus_ were not only going to make well
again their brother who was nigh unto death, but were also going to
utterly root out and destroy those cunning beasts who refused to come
out into the open and face their assagais. Grosvenor announced his
intention of accompanying Dick, and five minutes later the pair, with
their sable guide leading the way and carrying the medicine chest, were
_en route_ for the village, Dick carrying his case of surgical
instruments under his arm. Their rifles they left with the wagon,
deeming it unnecessary to cumber themselves with superfluous weapons in
face of the fact that the villagers were obviously quite friendly
disposed to white men, indeed they were still too close to civilisation
to anticipate anything else.
As they neared the village the "boy" who preceded them began to shout
the great news that the white men were coming to make whole the injured
man, and the occupants of the huts, to the number of about two hundred
men, women, and children, swarmed out to gaze upon the strangers. The
guide, who was inclined to put on airs, upon the strength of being the
bearer of the white men's _muti_, would fain have made the most of the
occasion by pausing in the centre of the village and haranguing his
fellows, but Dick nipped the intention ruthlessly in the bud by
repeating several times, in an imperative tone of voice, the word
_hamba_ (go), and presently the procession--for every occupant of the
village formed up and followed the trio--came to a halt in front of one
of the huts.
As the bearer of the medicine chest pushed his burden in through the
low, narrow entrance of the hut, and dropped on hands and knees in order
to follow it, Dick turned and, perceiving a disposition on the part of
the crowd to gather close about the entrance, and so exclude what little
light and air might otherwise make its way in, took an assagai from the
hand of an astonished native, and, holding it by the blade, waved the
press back with the butt end of the weapon. Then, still waving the butt
end, he described on the ground the arc of a circle of some twelve feet
radius from the hut entrance, and, returning the weapon to its owner,
pointed to the mark on the ground, and, addressing the curiosity-ridden
mob, said impressively in English:
"Now, good people, please have the goodness to keep carefully outside
that line, and oblige yours truly!"
There was not one of those odoriferous, dark-skinned Kafirs who
comprehended a word of English, but Dick's actions and the tones of his
voice were so expressive that his meaning was almost as distinctly
understood as though he had spoken in the language of the tribe. He saw
at once that this was so, and that his wishes would be obeyed, and
signing to Grosvenor to precede him, forthwith passed into the hut.
Entering the windowless structure straight from the dazzling sunshine
that flooded the outside world, the two Englishmen found themselves
plunged for the moment in a darkness so profound that they could see
nothing, and were fain to stand just where they rose to their feet after
creeping through the low doorway, lest, moving, they should stumble over
something--possibly the patient. But in addition to the hot, close
odour of the interior of the hut there was another taint that assailed
their nostrils, the taint of festering wounds, with which Dick was
already familiar, and he shook his head doubtfully as he turned to the
figure of Grosvenor, just beginning to reveal itself in the midst of the
enveloping obscurity, and said:
"I don't like this at all. I can't see my patient as yet, but there is
a certain something in the atmosphere of this hut which tells me that if
the poor beggar's life is to be saved we have no time to waste. Where
is he, I wonder? Oh, I think I see him, there on the ground at the far
side from the doorway! Yes, there he is. Another minute and I shall be
able to see him clearly. Meanwhile, perhaps his pulse will tell us
something."
And, crossing to the far side of the hut, he knelt down by the side of
the indistinctly seen man, felt for his hand, and, having found it, laid
his fingers upon the wrist.