"I too am beginning to have a pretty firm conviction as to where it is,"
I said.
"Tell me where _you_ think first," continued my friend; "and then I'll
tell you my idea."
"Nowhere," said I; "at least, nowhere that you or I, or anyone else,
will ever know of."
"Well, now listen to my idea; you can act upon it or not, as you like.
Have you thought of removing the posts and looking into the holes?"
"No, I haven't," I said; "but I'll do it."
"Do it when the others are asleep to-night," Jack rejoined.
"Why, what's the hurry?" I asked. "Must I grope about in the dark, and
all among the hyenas and lions? Hang it all, let me wait till morning!"
"The thing is, it's a new idea; and if Strong sees you removing one
post, he'll remove another, and Clutterbuck a third, and you split your
chances. _They_ may look under the right post while you are busy
unearthing the wrong one!"
"You seem to be very cocksure of your posts, old chap!" I said,
laughing.
Jack's answer astonished me.
"Do as I tell you," he said; "and begin with the erratic post in the
thorn bush. I have a very strong idea about that post."
"Why--have you seen anything?" I gasped. Jack's manner impressed and
excited me.
"It's like this," he said; "and, of course, my idea may be worth
nothing. The post is not very tightly fixed in the ground, and to-day I
shook it about and up and down. Well, it seems to rest upon something
hard and smooth, that's all. I left it for you to pull up."
*CHAPTER XV*
*EUREKA!*
Jack's communication rendered me frantic with excitement, and I
instantly determined that I would do as he had suggested. The idea of
wandering about the bush at night, alone, was not pleasant; but if the
treasure were really at the foot of Jack's post, why, it would be worth
running the gauntlet of a score of lions to get it. Besides, I could
take a torch. Of course, the hard and smooth surface the post rested
upon might prove to be a stone and no more; still, I would go and see
for myself.
Jack and I divided the watching every night. We could not, of course,
trust either of the others to undertake the duty. Such a step would
have been suicidal indeed on our part; for James Strong, at anyrate, and
possibly Clutterbuck also, would have taken so good an opportunity to
rid himself of a rival and of a rival's inconvenient friend at a swoop.
Hence both men were allowed to sleep, if they would, all and every
night.
This evening we supped well upon an antelope shot by Jack in the bush
while we laboured in our treasure-field, and by the time darkness was
well set in, James Strong and Clutterbuck were already in full snore.
Then, moving cautiously, I took rifle, spade, and torch, and sallied
forth, not without some trepidation, upon my enterprise.
Whether owing to the occasional shots fired by us in this place in the
pursuit of game, or whether by reason of their natural dislike for
abiding in the continued proximity of mankind, we had not been bothered
during the last few days by the presence of many hyenas or other
creatures of the kind about our camp. A few days ago, if I had
undertaken the gruesome night enterprise upon which I had now embarked,
I should have been startled almost at every step by some suddenly
rushing or creeping brute; but to-night I was left to pursue my journey
almost in peace.
I had no difficulty in groping my way to our treasure-area, which
resembled a ploughed field by this time, with all the digging and
re-digging it had suffered. Nor was I long in discovering the post as
to which Jack had formed so strong and optimistic an opinion.
After all, it was not unlikely that our old miser should have planted a
post over the grave of his treasures, and I was somewhat surprised that
it had not occurred either to me or to the Strong faction to remove the
posts and look underneath them, since we had dug up the whole of the
area enclosed by them without result. Doubtless it would have occurred
to us to do so after we had dug a little deeper in the space enclosed.
At all events, here was Jack's post, and I laid hold of it and shook it,
and moved it up and down just as he had described that he had done
himself. Sure enough, the post struck hard and dead on some flat,
unyielding substance beneath. My heart beat in a ridiculous
fashion--was I really on the brink of a discovery that would place me
for ever out of reach of poverty and of the necessity to embark in some
lifelong, uncongenial occupation? I felt so faint in the agitation of
the moment that I was obliged to pause and gather strength before I was
sufficiently master of my energies to lay hold of the post and pull it
up.
"Now, Godfrey," I said to myself, "don't be a fool. In moments of
difficulty preserve an equal mind; if you can't do that, what was the
use of your learning Horace? Pull yourself together and play the man!"
I seized the post and tugged at it. It was stiff enough to resist
displacement, though it had wobbled about when shaken to and fro. But
having once mastered my agitation, I was equal to any amount of
exertion; and by dint of working it backwards and forwards and up and
down for five minutes, and twisting it round in my embracing arms, I
succeeded at last in raising and removing it. My torch had gone out
meanwhile, and I could see nothing, of course, in the dark hole which
had formed the socket of the post.
Kneeling over it, therefore, with palpitating heart, I plunged my hand
down. My arm did not reach the bottom in this way, however, and I lay
down on my side and plunged it in a second time to the very armpit.
This time the ends of my fingers just touched the bottom of the hole,
and distinctly felt what seemed a cold, flat substance lying there, but
could not grasp and raise it.
I tried to keep cool and think how best to act under the agitating
circumstances.
Then I lay down again, after scraping away some of the sandy soil at the
edge of the hole, in order to gain a few inches in reach by getting my
shoulder lower; and this time I was able to distinguish, by the touch, a
small tin box, and to get my fingers under it. In the joy of that
moment I could scarcely forbear to shout aloud. Eureka! I had found the
treasure! I was a rich man; the whole world was my own--to the full
extent of about ninety-eight thousand pounds odd.
Slowly and carefully I raised the little box to the surface; my grip
upon it was as tight as that of a drowning man to the hand that will
save him. Up it came, a small tin thing like a cheap money-box by the
feel; now I had it safely, and was standing shaking it, half dazed,
trying to realise what its discovery meant for me. Oh for a light, that
I might open it and gloat without delay over its thrice-blessed
contents!
The next moment I was careering at full speed towards the camp fire to
tell Jack of the marvellous success of my night enterprise, and to open
with him the treasure-box that burned my hands as I carried it. But
stay! what if James Strong were awake? Could I postpone the joy of
raising the lid of that box until the morning, and the almost equal
delight of telling Jack all about it? No, I felt I could not. If I
might not open the box, and talk about it too, I should certainly "go
crazy."
As I approached the fire, however, I saw that both James Strong and
Clutterbuck were fast asleep, Jack watching. He heard me coming, though
I crept softly for fear of awakening the sleepers, and long before he
could possibly have seen me he had his finger to his lip in token that
caution was required. I concealed the box in the "hare-pocket" of my
Norfolk jacket, and stepped into the firelight. I suppose that Jack
thought I was about to speak, for he said very softly, "Ssh!" and made a
warning gesture.
It was tantalising indeed. Nevertheless, I sat down by the fire close
to Henderson, and for a few minutes neither of us spoke or whispered a
word. The only sign that passed between us was an interrogatory
uplifting of the eyebrows by Jack, which I took to mean, "Any success?"
and to which I responded with the very slyest possible closing of the
left eyelid, which I intended to signify "_Rather!_"
After about ten minutes of listening to James Strong's measured snoring
and Clutterbuck's groans, grunts, and snortings, Jack leant over and
whispered--
"Strong sat up and looked around while you were away. He made as though
he did not notice your absence, but I have an idea that he knew all
about it. We must be very careful indeed. Have you really had any
luck?"
"The best possible," I whispered back. "Can I show you something?"
"Wait a bit, old man!" said Jack, pressing my hand; "this is splendid!
I congratulate you; but for Heaven's sake be careful! I don't trust
that fellow Strong's sleeping; he may be wide awake, watching. He's as
cunning as they're made."
"Let's try him," I suggested. "I'll suddenly cough loudly, and you keep
a careful watch on his eyes; probably he'll wince if he's awake."
"Go on, then," said Jack. I didn't cough; I said "Hello!" very shortly
and sharply. Strong gave a slight start, but then so did Clutterbuck,
and both went on sleeping.
"We'll give them another ten minutes," whispered Jack, "and then risk
it."
At the expiration of that period I looked inquiringly at Jack, and he
nodded affirmatively.
Slowly and cautiously, and with my eyes fixed upon Strong's face, I drew
the tin box from my deep pocket; I heard Jack's breath come quick and
short as he caught sight of the prize. It was, as I thought, a plain
tin money-box, painted black and gold, such as anyone may buy at any
ironmonger's for a few shillings. It was tied round with a wire, but
unlocked, and with trembling fingers I removed the wire and opened the
lid.
Within was a second tin box, a small thing like a sandwich-box, and this
too was unlocked.
I paused to take a look at the sleepers; both were still, apparently, as
fast asleep as ever.
"Go on!" whispered Jack; "it's all right."
I put my hand inside the case and produced a leather pocket-book, and
from this I drew an envelope!
"Ah, a cheque!" whispered Jack; "and a fat one if it's for the lot!"
There were several papers in the envelope. First a letter, which I put
aside to read later, because the rest were bank-notes, and I was anxious
to learn the amount of my inheritance.
Then came two terrible shocks, one after the other.
Shock number one. There were twenty five pound notes. No more, and no
less!
*CHAPTER XVI*
*"ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD!"*
One hundred pounds!
A nice little sum in itself, but not one that would tempt a man to
imperil his life in as many ways as it contained notes! Surely the old
man had not brought me all this distance to give me one hundred pounds
at the end of it? The letter would prove to be an order upon his
bankers for the bulk of his fortune. The hundred was intended to cover
my expenses home to England.
In so far as concerned the hundred pounds my surmise was correct enough.
But the letter was not a bank order. It was a very original document,
and I purpose giving it _in extenso_. Here it is:--
"THE PRIZE TO THE SWIFT.
"To my Heir: a message from the tomb.
"MY DEAR HEIR,--If ever you read these words it must happen after my
death, because I shall take care that no man handles my money until I am
in my grave. That is why I call this a message from the tomb. The dead
can gain nothing by lying; therefore I give you no other assurance that
what I have to say is the absolute truth.
"You have done well to come so far, whichever of my potential heirs you
may be. My treasure is not here, neither are your journeys at an end.
"From South Africa to the Finnish Gulf is a considerable stretch, but
one hundred thousand pounds is a large sum; it is a sum that has
occasioned its owner more trouble to acquire than is involved in a
pleasant journey from Africa to Finland. If it is worth your while to
undertake this journey, you will act as I shall presently direct you; if
not, you will leave my money to rest where it is, and where, assuredly,
neither you nor any relative of mine shall ever find it.
"If my treasure fall into hands for which it was not intended, may my
curse rest upon it for ever; and if none find it from this day until the
day of resurrection, I, William Clutterbuck, shall be just as happy.
Let him who is wise read the following instructions, and obey them to
his profit:--
[Illustration: Old Clutterbuck's Second Map]
"The island is about five miles in length. Steamers from Hull or London
to Cronstadt pass within half a mile of lighthouse.
"Special arrangements must be made with shipowners to land upon island.
"An open space will be found in the forest at about the spot indicated
by a cross. Here are four posts, defining the area within which it is
necessary to dig.
"The Prize to the Swift.
"W. CLUTTERBUCK."
By the time I had read to the end of this precious document, my heart
was in the usual condition of hearts whose cherished "hope" has been
deferred. The disappointment was almost more than I could bear; the
thing was so unexpected, and the pill so bitter.
If I had followed the impulse of the moment I should have torn that
hateful letter into a thousand pieces and danced upon it, then and
there, to the tune of all the worst names I could think of to revile its
author withal. Yet, when I glanced at Jack to see how he took this
disappointment, I saw that he was shaking with suppressed laughter.
"I would give worlds to have known that old chap!" he whispered. "It is
the finest notion for giving healthy occupation to a set of lazy nephews
that ever an uncle devised. He was a grand old fellow, this, Peter!"
"What nonsense you talk!" I whispered. "I believe the whole thing is a
hoax, from beginning to end. The man was mad on all matters concerning
money. He was determined no one should ever touch his treasure, since
he could not carry it away himself, and this is his dodge; he will trot
us backwards and forwards after the infernal stuff until we die or get
our throats cut, and the money will rest unfound in Timbuctoo, or
Jerusalem, or the Grand Canary!"
"I don't think so," said Jack. "I believe the old man was entirely sane
and entirely serious. Just think; if you had a lot of money to leave and
no one to leave it to (he didn't know _you_, remember, when he wrote
this!), except a set of good-for-nothing scamps like these Strongs,
and"--
As Jack referred to Strong by name, I glanced up at the sleeping form of
that individual, whose very existence I had forgotten for the last few
minutes in the excitement of examining the money-box and its contents,
and to my horror I distinctly saw that his eyes were wide open, and that
he was both looking and listening with every faculty at high pressure.
He closed his eyes the instant he saw me look up, and was, apparently,
as fast asleep as ever.
I whispered my discovery to Jack, but that practical person was not in
the least discouraged.
"Much good may it do him!" he said. "Take a copy of the map of the
island, though," he added, "and of the instructions."
And this I did, then and there.
It was, of course, useless after this to attempt to conceal our
discovery from James Strong and his companion. We therefore determined
to take the bull by the horns--in other words, to inform them we had
found all there was to be found, and that, consequently, we intended to
depart, in order to return presently to England.
It fell to me to undertake the duty of making this communication to my
fellow-competitors. I did not care for the job, but, desiring to get it
over, I plunged "into the middle of things" at breakfast, in the
morning.
"James Strong," I said, "I think I ought to inform you that I have found
what we all came to seek, and that it is all up with your chance and
Clutterbuck's. I should recommend you to return quietly to England, and
if you give me no further trouble I shall take no further steps about
the affair at Las Palmas."
"You're a pretty cool hand, I will say," said Strong, forcing a laugh.
"And you won't take steps about Las Palmas, won't you? You are too
generous to live, hang me if you aren't! And do you suppose I'm going
to keep quiet about my brother's murder?"
"Take proceedings against the lion by all means," said Jack with a
laugh. "What a fool you are, James Strong! Why can't you talk sense
among grown men? We are not schoolboys, my friend; you can't frighten
us that way. Now, what do you want for your spoilt guns--the three of
them?"
"Curse you and your money!" said Strong; "we shall see what I want for
my spoilt guns when we get back to England."
"Very well," said Jack; "then I shall settle with Mr. Clutterbuck."
We did settle with him, paying him one hundred pounds for the three
burned guns, to which Jack generously added another hundred pounds for
expenses, advising Clutterbuck to return to England at once, and to
have, in future, as little to do with Mr. James Strong as circumstances
permitted; and this advice Clutterbuck promised to take to heart. I
certainly considered Henderson's settlement in the matter of guns and
expenses an extremely generous one.
Then those two rode away from the field, leaving me the conqueror. My
victory was a barren one, as I feared; but still, I had found all there
was to find, and Jack had quite persuaded me by this time to follow up
my success, and to treat old Clutterbuck and his "message from the tomb"
with perfect seriousness--nay, I was determined that I would have that
hundred thousand pounds if I had to seek it in the ends of the earth,
and to dig up half a continent to find it!
*CHAPTER XVII*
*LOST!*
As for Jack and me, since we had in our pockets the map of the spot in
which the treasure lay awaiting our pleasure to come and dig it up, and
since James Strong could not possibly know to what quarter of the world
we had been directed, or, indeed, any part of the purport of the miser's
eccentric letter, we determined to enjoy a week or two of real sport
before returning to civilisation and the digging of treasures in high
latitudes.
We had given Strong no weapons, since we could not trust him; but to
Clutterbuck, who was nervous of travelling unarmed, we presented my old
revolver, choked as it was with lead, together with a handful of
cartridges, Clutterbuck vowing by all his gods never to give the weapon
to Strong, or even to let that untrustworthy person know that he had it.
After he had made us this solemn promise, I revealed to Clutterbuck a
plan I had thought of for clearing the barrel. It was simple enough.
All he would have to do would be to heat the jammed portion of the
barrel in the fire, when the lead would quickly melt and come out.
James Strong's face was a study as he rode away with his companion, and
Jack made the remark that he would not for a good sum be in
Clutterbuck's shoes and have to ride back all the way to Vryburg, if not
to Cape Town, with such a murderous-looking, scowling ruffian as James
Strong in his present temper.
"Oh, well," I said; "Clutterbuck's the grey mare this time. It's he
that has the pistol, and therefore the last word."
"Yes, if he can keep it," said Jack sagaciously. "But I should be
surprised to hear that the poor chap reaches Cape Town in company with
his share of the two hundred pounds or the revolver either. However,
that's not our affair. I hope we've seen the last of both of them for
many a long day, or for ever; and the latter for choice."
After this, for a space, we gave my co-heirs no further attention, but
devoted ourselves entirely to the delights of sport.
We first rode back to the village of Ngami in order to see whether our
ox-waggon and hunters had arrived, but did not find them waiting for us,
as we had hoped might be the case. We therefore decided to employ the
hours or days of waiting in a little impromptu sport in the
neighbourhood.
We had no guide, and were without any very large stock of ammunition for
the light rifles which we had brought with us; therefore, we agreed, it
would be foolish to venture too far into the bush. It would be well too,
if possible, to keep our conical hill in sight as a landmark in our
guideless wanderings.
So away we rode into the jungle, with our rifles slung over our
shoulders, half a hundred cartridges apiece disposed about our persons,
a blanket each, plenty of matches, very little food of any kind,--for we
would shoot our dinner day by day,--and, lastly, with old Clutterbuck's
absurd but invaluable "message from the tomb" buttoned up safely within
the inner pocket of my Norfolk jacket, and a copy thereof in Jack's
secret waistcoat lining in case of accidents.
It was a somewhat unfortunate circumstance that we went astray at the
very outset. A herd of beautiful elands crossed the open before our
very eyes, and we did the most natural thing for Englishmen of our age:
we tally-ho'd and galloped away in pursuit; and a fine chase those
elands led us, heading straight for the jungle a couple of miles farther
away.
Up to this point our conduct had been that of fairly sane men; but no
sooner did the big antelopes disappear, at a distance of some two
hundred yards in front of us, into the dense forest, than without a
thought we plunged in after them, gaining rapidly upon the hindermost,
at which we had fired three shots as we rode, and which--with rare bad
luck for the eland, for we were not accustomed to firing at full
gallop--we had wounded.
We rode madly into the thick cover, straining every nerve to overtake
our prey. We could hear them crashing their way through the trees, very
close at hand, and this excited us to even greater exertion.
The result was a foregone conclusion. When, a quarter of an hour later,
we succeeded in overtaking the wounded beast and administering the _coup
de grace_, and had admired to the full the splendid proportions of the
beautiful dead animal at our feet, it struck us that we had perhaps done
a rash thing in venturing into this jungle.
"I wonder where we are?" one of us remarked laughingly.
"Do you remember the way out of this place?" asked Jack of me, looking
around him.
The tangled growths on every side were of such density that it was
impossible to see fifty yards in any direction.
"We must follow our tracks back, I suppose," I said. "That won't be
difficult, will it, as the elands crashed through the same way?"
Jack did not think it would be very difficult, neither did I. Yet,
after we had ridden back for a few hundred yards we came to a place
where the right way might be any one of three ways; for either our herd
had dispersed at this spot, or other companies of deer or other wild
animals had passed, making several trampled tracks which our
inexperienced eyes could not distinguish from our own, and any one of
which might, as I say, be the right one.
"This is the way, I believe," said Jack, showing one trampled path.
But I was almost sure that the right course was not this, but another.
We argued; we laughed; we grew serious; we argued again; but all that we
said and adduced in support of our respective contentions only tended to
puzzle us both the more. In the end we were no nearer a solution of the
difficulty, but rather, if possible, further away; for I believe it is a
fact that we were both so muddled by the arguments, and by the general
sameness of the look of the place in every direction, that we neither of
us knew at last which trampled path we had selected in the first
instance to swear by. I daresay I changed over to Jack's and he to
mine.
At all events, we eventually agreed to one thing, and that was that we
were most distinctly and decidedly lost.
We climbed a tall tree or two in the hope of thus seeing, over the heads
of the rest, our old friend the conical hill; but not a thing could we
detect near or far but the waving tops of other trees in apparently
endless lines of hopelessly innumerable and impenetrable leaf-screens.
We inspected every apology for a track until it branched off into two or
more other paths. We rode for several hours, absolutely ignorant
whether we went deeper into the forest or towards the open out of which
we had entered it, until at last Jack pulled up, tied his horse to a
tree, and threw himself down on the ground, rolling from side to side in
a paroxysm of laughter, which I found very contagious and in which I
joined immediately.
Of course, there was nothing to laugh at that I knew of; on the
contrary, our position was somewhat serious. Nevertheless, I laughed
simply because Jack did, until he suddenly looked up and pointed, and
then at last I saw the reason of his mirth. Our dead eland lay about
fifteen paces from us. We had ridden for four or five hours, and had
returned to the spot from which we had started!--at which discovery I
laughed again until I nearly cried.
*CHAPTER XVIII*
*HOW WE BURIED OURSELVES ALIVE FOR THE LOVE OF SCIENCE*
"Talk of returning to one's mutton!" said Jack; "here's our venison!"
I confess I was uncommonly glad to see that eland; for since breakfast I
had scarcely tasted food, and the prospect of camping out for the night
upon a little tinned meat and a couple of biscuits had not presented
itself to my imagination in the brightest of colours.
Under the soothing influence of roast venison, however, and a
comfortable fire, our prospects for the night brightened very
considerably, our only source of anxiety for the present being the want
of a "long drink." We had our brandy-flasks still nearly full, for we
were resolved to keep the spirits for medicinal purposes only; but as
the stuff was unmixed with water, we were unable to satisfy our thirst
by means of a pull from the flask. We were lucky enough, however, to
come across a kei-apple tree which provided us with a kind of dessert;
not particularly luxurious certainly, but palatable enough to thirsty
souls with nothing to drink.
That night passed without adventure. We heard wild animals in the
distance, but none came very near us, and if they had we were growing
accustomed to them by this time, and my spell of night-watching was
passed without serious attacks of "creeps" and "horrors," such as had
rendered my first night or two in the bush periods of mental torture to
me.
On the morrow we breakfasted upon more of our eland, and cut and cooked
sundry slices to take away with us. Our Kaffir apples again served as
substitutes for "drinkables," but I think either Jack or I would have
given pretty nearly all we were worth for a cup of tea or a drink of
water.
"We must get out of this jungle to-day, Peter," said Jack, "and find
some water; kei-apples are not good enough."
I quite agreed. We must get out of this jungle, if only for the sake of
having a long drink.
Our horses, which had filled themselves with the cactus-like growths
abounding at our feet--elephant's-foot, or Hottentot bread, and other
delicacies of a like nature--were presumably as anxious to find water as
we were. They carried us in whatsoever direction we urged them, but
went listlessly, as though by no means in love with our enterprise.
When we had wandered thus for a few hours, and were growing somewhat
depressed by reason of our continued failure to find a way out of the
jungle, I proposed to Jack to allow the horses to go where they liked.
"They can't make a worse business of it than we have done," I added;
"and they may possibly be guided by instincts which we don't possess."
"Good idea," said Jack; "we'll try it."
The result was rather astonishing.
Those two sagacious creatures, feeling their bridles loose upon their
necks, and recognising that they were to be permitted to go where they
pleased, pricked up their ears and started off at a quick walk.
"I wonder if they really know where they are going, or whether this is
only a kind of 'swagger'?" said Jack. It certainly seemed as though
they knew all about it. Why should they not, after all, as well as any
other animal that is wild and has a vested interest in the forest?
Horses came originally from a wild stock, and doubtless possess the
inheritance of their species--namely, the instinctive power to find
their way unerringly from point to point as well through pathless jungle
as over the easy open.
At any rate, our good steeds had scarcely travelled an hour without our
interference when we saw to our delight that the forest grew thinner and
the light stronger, and a few minutes later we were actually in the
open, with the jungle behind us. We could see our conical hill in the
distance, but on the other side of the belt of forest through which we
had so laboriously passed. It was also clear to us that there existed a
way to Ngami, skirting the forest, which would obviate for us the
necessity to plunge again into those dangerous fastnesses; and this
discovery was a great relief to our feelings, for it would have been a
sore test, to my nerves at least, to re-enter those dark shades in order
to get into the road for home.
Meanwhile our horses walked briskly onwards, as though determined to see
through the matter which had been entrusted to their instinct; and
whether my readers believe it or not, it is nevertheless the fact that
they travelled as straight as the bee flies, never diverging by a yard
from their line, until presently they brought us up on the banks of a
wide stream, into whose cool current they promptly plunged their noses,
and we ours, in very abandonment to the luxurious delight of
thirst-quenching.
This little adventure, or misadventure, was a lesson to us, and a most
useful one, throughout our wanderings in search of big game during the
next month or more; and as at this time we passed through several
"'scapes" and incidents of an interesting if alarming kind I now purpose
to set down one or two of these for the benefit of those of my readers
who have a taste for adventure and wild beasts. I do not mean to
describe in detail the whole of our month of jungle life, but merely to
pick out an incident or two as samples of the rest, for an average
volume would not contain the narrative of all we saw and did during
those momentous thirty days.
Jack and I slept that night by the river which the instinct of our
horses (as I suppose) had discovered for us; and, it being a warm
evening, we determined to do without a camp fire for once, and to
conceal ourselves by means of deep holes dug in the ground, in which we
would crouch with our heads and shoulders concealed in the scrub, or by
boughs lopped from tree and bush. We had heard of hunters adopting this
plan at spots by a river's bank to which wild animals were in the habit
of coming down to drink at night, in order to obtain easy shots from
their ambush at the unsuspecting lion, leopard, antelope, elephant, or
what not, that came to slake its thirst at the stream.
So Jack and I dug holes, being provided with spades brought for quite a
different purpose, and lopped heaps of branches and scrub with our
hunting-knives; and when darkness fell we got into our graves, a yard or
two apart, within whispering distance, and piled branches and greenery
around the mouths of each pit so that we might put our heads and
shoulders out, if need be, and still not be seen; and then we waited for
developments.
The night was full of a holy calm, warm and still, and instinct with a
kind of sense of waiting for something to happen. One felt that the
silence and peace were very delicious, but that this sort of thing could
not continue long, and must not, for it would grow intolerable after a
while.
Then, just as one began to weary of the strain of the stillness and
utter noiselessness, a leopard, or some such creature, came to the
rescue, far away, and roared half a dozen times on end.
I thought, and whispered my conviction to Jack in the next grave, that
this habit of roaring when about to go a-hunting was a very foolish
trait in leopards, tigers, and other beasts of prey. It amounted to
calling out, "Now, then, all you fat deer and juicy antelopes, you'd
better clear out or I'll have you for supper!"
Jack said it reminded him of a master at school, who used to call out
"_Cave_, gentlemen, _cave_!" before going the round of the studies, and
was, in consequence, the favourite master in the school.
I was just beginning to propound my opinion as to which was the greater
and which the lesser fool, the master or the leopard, when suddenly a
sound as of a gust of wind broke in upon us, came nearer, disintegrated
itself into the noise of the scurrying of many feet, and in a moment we
were in the midst of a splendid squad of antelopes, plunging, bucking,
kicking, boring, leaping, grunting, squeaking,--all intent upon the
water, and each creature apparently in mortal fear lest its companions
should drain the supply before it had its share.
One or two of the beautiful little animals actually leaped over my head
as I ducked to avoid being kicked, and I put out my hand and patted
another which stood close by, to its unspeakable surprise and terror,
causing it to dive madly in among its fellows and raise a pandemonium in
the ranks, for which, I am sure, the rest could have discerned no
reason. Probably my friend obtained the character of being a mad
antelope among his companions from that night forward.
All this--the confusion and the trampling of the mud at the water's edge
and the drinking--lasted about five minutes; then, as though they had
suddenly realised that they were doing an exceedingly rash and foolish
thing, the whole family, as with one accord, turned right about and
galloped away into the darkness. A moment--and they were here;
another--and they were gone thither whence they came, and where that
was, no man knows.
What had startled them? The plunging of our horses, perhaps; for those
poor picketed beasts were, for some reason or other, very nervous, and
we could hear them stamping their hoofs and shaking their heads as
though anxious to break away. A hyena or two were prowling about in the
neighbourhood, disagreeably noisy as usual, but the horses could
scarcely be nervous on their account.
Suddenly all is explained: the hasty "skedaddle" of the antelope herd;
the agitation of our horses; the sudden hush of all voices of the
forest. Somebody is arriving--a great and majestic and terrific
personage, at whose coming my coward heart goes with a jump into my
boots. It is a lion--and a hungry one!
*CHAPTER XIX*
*A NIGHT WITH A LION*
Without a sound, without a roar, without warning of any kind whatever,
the great creature is suddenly standing before us. He was on his way to
the river, doubtless, and became aware, by means of his acute gift of
scent, that visitors were somewhere in the neighbourhood.
This is Leo Rex; and he is saying to himself, "Well, I may be mistaken,
but unless I were assured to the contrary I should be inclined to think
that there was a man about! Yes, I am sure of it. And--yes, upon my
life, horse too; is it horse, now, or bullock? Certainly something
civilised--horse it is! Well, now, this is really very surprising and
delightful! You are in luck to-night, your majesty! Let me see, shall
it be man first or horse, or a long drink?"
Then the king decides that he will first roar. That, he thinks, will
start the game. At present he does not know _exactly_ where the man is;
after a good roar from him there will probably be a rustle and a bolt;
as when a terrier gives tongue at a thorn bush in order to set a-running
the rabbit that lurks therein.
So the great king set up a terrific roar, and the immediate effect
was--besides nearly deafening Jack and me, and frightening me half out
of my wits--to terrify our poor horses to such an extent that both broke
away at the same moment and fled. We heard the clatter of their hoofs as
they galloped away into the sanctuary of the darkness, and we could make
out also that the great beast standing so close to us raised his head to
listen.
I daresay he was blaming himself in the worst feline language for being
so foolish as to drive away good food in this way. I do not know for
certain what he thought, for at this moment Jack took his turn at the
game of startling poor me, and, before I had any idea of his intention,
crashed off first one barrel and then the other, the two reports being
almost simultaneous.
I do not know how it was, but I had not thought of shooting; I do not
think my rifle was out of the pit. It had been understood between us
that we were to observe, this night, not kill; the fact being, of
course, that we had not expected a lion to come down to the water, but
at most a herd or two of antelopes or zebras, or perhaps an eland. I
was not prepared for action when Jack fired, and the succeeding events
somewhat took me aback.
It all happened in a single moment, however, so that my confusion did
not last more than a second or two at most. It was like this: at Jack's
shot the huge brute first gave forth the most awful roar that ever
assailed human ears, then in an instant it launched itself into the air,
alighting, as I saw to my horror, exactly upon the spot from which Jack
had fired. Probably the smoke hung over the place and attracted it.
For an instant I gave up Jack for lost, and the sudden horror of the
catastrophe so paralysed me that I had neither thought nor power of
action. The next moment the idea came to me that I might at least
discharge my rifle into the brute's body, and perhaps prevent it from
carrying poor dead Jack into the jungle and eating him there.
The lion was standing over Jack, roaring loud enough to be heard at the
Cape, and doubtless tearing the flesh from my friend's bones; but it was
too dark to see anything. I could distinguish an opaque mass standing
close at my elbow, and I knew this to be the lion; but it was impossible
to discern what he was doing.
I put my rifle to my shoulder, but could not see the sights; then I
stretched the weapon to arm's length until I could feel the end of it
against the brute's ribs, and pulled the trigger--both triggers.
I thought that the great roar to which he had previously treated us had
been a fairly effective production, but a terrific noise, half roar,
half bellow, to which he now gave vent, put the first completely into
the shade. At the same time the brute, so far as I could distinguish,
seemed to rise up on his hind legs, paw the air, and fall over
backwards.
I thought of dead Jack, and fury lent me courage; I reloaded both
barrels of my rifle, climbed out of my pit, and placing the muzzle once
more to the brute's side--though he lay quite still and did not seem to
require a second dose--I fired both cartridges simultaneously. At the
same moment a wonderful thing happened.
Out of the pit in which he had lain hid suddenly popped Jack's head, and
Jack's voice cheerily hailed me.
"Peter, old man!" it said, "I'm really awfully obliged to you!" At the
words so fierce a flood of joy rushed up to my throat that all utterance
was choked and I could say nothing. "You have saved a very precious
life," continued Jack. "Do you know the brute was simply feeling for me
with his claws when you fired and stopped his game? Look here!"
It was not of much use to look, for the night was pitch dark; but I may
say that afterwards, by the firelight, I was somewhat shocked to observe
that Jack's Norfolk jacket about the left shoulder was torn to shreds,
and that his arm was considerably scratched beneath it. If the pit had
been an inch or two shallower, Jack's arm would have been lacerated in a
fearful way; as it was, the brute only just touched him.
We found the lion was as dead as a post when we had fired some brushwood
and were able to examine him, which we did without loss of time, for it
was unpleasant to feel that the brute might possibly be still alive, and
gathering up his dying energies for a little _vendetta_, to be enacted
upon us so soon as one of us should come within grabbing distance of
that tremendous mouth of his!
I confess that I was very proud and happy over that dead lion. It was
"my bird" undoubtedly; for though Jack was a crack shot and had fired
both barrels at it, at a distance of about ten paces, or not much more,
yet he had missed it clean. He could not see the end of his rifle, he
explained, and had simply pointed the weapon according to the grace that
was in him, hoping for the best results. The results were a clean miss
and a big lion sitting, as he picturesquely put it, on the top of his
head and digging at his arm. As a matter of fact, I believe this is
what happened: the lion, enraged by the shot, instantly sprang towards
the only visible thing that it could see, which was the white smoke of
Jack's rifle.
It had alighted with its great carcass stretched over the pit, the hind
legs short of the aperture, head and shoulders beyond it, but one of its
front legs happened to fall just inside the hole; and it was in
struggling to regain its footing and draw its great arm out of the
mysterious hole into which it had fallen, that the brute spoiled Jack's
coat and very nearly spoiled his arm and shoulder as well.
My shots came at the right moment, and the mystery which that lion must
have already felt to exist with regard to the banging and the hole in
the ground, and things in general, was, for that lion, never solved. He
went away to the Happy Hunting Grounds with his last moments in this
world made mysterious by unguessable and incomprehensible riddles,
leaving me a very proud and elated young person.
Perhaps other lions who have been shot by a visible creature, and with
whom my first victim has by this time scraped acquaintance in those
shady retreats, have now explained it all for him, and have described
what an artful, tricky, fire-spitting, incomprehensible race are we
humans, who have about as much strength in our whole bodies as lions
have in one muscle of their forearms, but who can nevertheless spit fire
at a lion from the other end of nowhere, and burn him up in an instant
from out of sight.
*CHAPTER XX*
*OUR TRUSTY NIGGER TO THE RESCUE*
We did not attempt to skin that lion, for the best of reasons--because
we did not know how.
Simple Jack was very much inclined to try, because, said he, it could
not be very difficult. He had heard that if one cut it straight down
the proper place one could pull the whole skin clean off over the
beast's head, like a fellow having his football jersey pulled off after
a match. But I did not encourage his enterprising spirit in this
matter, because I did not think Jack's theory would "come off," or the
lion's skin either.
We made up a splendid fire after this adventure, and passed the rest of
the night in comfort and self-laudation. We could not expect to see
much more animal life out of our pit ambushes after all the banging and
talking in which we had indulged.
But we heard several hyenas--probably the pilots and squires of Lord
Leo, departed--which came around and said a great many things in
derisive tones, as it seemed to us; but whether they intended thereby to
rejoice over the downfall of a tyrant, or to abuse us for depriving them
of their patron and food-provider; or whether, again, they were
addressing their remarks to the lion himself, ignorant of his death, and
assuring him, wherever he might be, that he was wasting invaluable time,
inasmuch as two fat and juicy young men were ready and waiting for his
kind attention down by the river, I really cannot say, not knowing
hyenese.
But this I know, that once, when Jack and I had both (oh, how
imprudently!) just dozed off for a few minutes of repose, I suddenly
awoke to the consciousness--like a person in a ghost story--that we were
"not alone."
Up I started, and up started Jack also, aroused by the same sound that
had awakened me. What was it?--another lion?
Not only was it not another lion, but lion number one had disappeared.
We sat up and rubbed our eyes. We stood up and looked carefully around,
and asked one another what in the name of all that was mysterious was
the meaning of it?
At the sound of our voices there was a scuffle behind the scrub close in
front of us, and a pattering of feet; growlings, moanings, yelpings
followed the scuffle: and we ran, rifle in hand, to solve the mystery.
There lay our lion, dragged from the spot in which he had died, and
there, under the lee of a prickly-pear bush, his friends the hyenas
would, in another minute or two, have torn him to pieces.
I did not know then that the hyenas would have eaten their lord and
patron. It struck me that they had dragged away his carcass in order to
hide it, in honour, from his enemies, perhaps to bury it. I mentioned
this to Jack, who laughed rudely.
"Bury it?" he said. "Yes; in their stomachs."
I had conceived quite a wrong idea of the relations between the hyena
and the lion, it appeared. The respect of the former for the latter, I
now know, though great during life, vanishes with the breath of his
nostrils. The hyena flatters and adores the lion while he can roar and
kill food for him; but when the lion dies the hyena instantly eats him
if he can get hold of the royal carcass.
The morning after our exploit with the lion, which had first so nearly
eaten Jack and afterwards been itself so nearly devoured by hyenas, we
left our quarry to take care of itself, for this was the only course
open to us, and went on foot towards Ngami, leaving it on the ground at
the mercy of vultures or hyenas, or anything else that should smell it
out and descend upon it. We went on foot, because our horses had broken
away and departed, as we feared "for good," whither we knew not.
But to our great joy and surprise, when we reached a grassy glade near
the village (having walked about ten miles from the spot in which we had
passed the night), we suddenly came upon them feeding quietly, with
their torn halters dangling on the ground, neither surprised nor
disconcerted to see us.
They allowed themselves, moreover, to be caught by us, which was really
exceedingly obliging of them, for there they were with the whole of
Africa to run about in if they pleased, and no one to prevent them; and
yet they submitted tamely to be placed once more under the yoke, and to
enter into bondage upon the old conditions!
At the village of Ngami we found our waggon, with its, to us, invaluable
accompaniment of native hunter and Kaffir driver, and its welcome load
of little luxuries such as bottled beer, and big luxuries such as
express rifles, with other delights.
The native hunter was a Somali, and knew a little English. His name,
for those who liked it, was M'ngulu; but we felt that we could never do
justice to such a name as that without a special education, and called
him "M" for short. He had convoyed other bands of young English
sportsmen, and knew enough English words to convey his meaning when he
wanted anything, such as tobacco, which he called "to-bac," or whiskey,
which he called "skey," but which, since we soon found that he was
better without it, we never offered him.
I do not think our Kaffir driver had a name of his own; we called him
"Nig," or, sometimes "Hi!" and he was equally pleased with either, being
an extremely good-natured person.
M'ngulu, or M, took to us at once. I think it was on account of the
lion of the previous night, to whose remains we very quickly introduced
him. I had made sure that the hyenas would have picked its bones by the
time we reached the spot, but, to my joy, there the brute lay,
untouched. As we neared the place, however, three huge vultures rose
from a tree close by and flapped lazily away to another a few yards
farther down the bank, which showed that we were only just in time to
save our property.
It was a treat to see M skin that lion, or any other animal. There was
no mystery about the proceeding when _he_ had a hand in it. Off came
the skin as easily as if the fellow were divesting himself of his
waistcoat, which, by the bye, is a garment that he did not actually
wear. When I come to think of it, I am afraid I should be puzzled to
tell you what M _did_ wear. I do not think it can have been much, or I
should have remembered it.
When M saw that we had really killed a lion, and without his assistance,
he evidently felt that he was in for a good thing. He had cast in his
lot with a couple of great sportsmen, and that was enough to make him
very happy.
Those who had recommended M'ngulu to us informed us that he knew
Bechuanaland as well as most men know their own back gardens. You might
set him, they said, anywhere within a hundred or two miles of Vryburg,
blindfold; then remove the handkerchief and ask him where he was, and he
would tell you. I do not know that this was an exaggeration. I am
certain that we, at all events, never succeeded in finding a place which
he did not know, or pretend to.
M now desired to be informed where we wanted to go to, and in pursuit of
what game?
"Oh, elephant," said Jack. "Let's have a turn after the elephants
first, Peter; don't you think so?"