DESERTED.
“What’s the matter, Mack?” asked Walter. “Do the jackals disturb you?”
“’Sh!” whispered the latter, making a warning gesture. “There’s no need
of arousing the camp, for I can make it all right myself.”
“Make what all right?” asked Walter, almost involuntarily sinking his
voice to a low whisper.
“Why, one of the Kaffirs has slipped away from Bob, and I saw him
sneaking off towards the woods with your uncle’s fine double-barrel in
his hands,” replied Mack.
“You did!” exclaimed Walter. “Then I must—”
“Never mind. I’ll do all that’s to be done. Don’t make the least noise,
because if you do the others will run away too, and we might as well be
at sea in an open boat without oars or sails, as out here in this
wilderness if the Kaffirs leave us. I’ll bring him back if you will lend
me your horse and gun.”
“Of course I will,” said Walter. “Don’t come back till you catch him,
for I don’t know what Uncle Dick would do without that rifle. He would
be sorry to lose it.”
“He shan’t lose it,” answered Mack, taking Walter’s saddle and bridle
out of the wagon and placing them upon the horse. “Say nothing to
nobody. I’ll have him back here in no time, and if I don’t use the
wagon-whip on him! Whew! I wouldn’t be in his place for no money.”
The horse was saddled and bridled in a trice, and Mack springing upon
his back took the rifle Walter handed to him, and rode away in the
darkness. All this passed so rapidly that it was done and Mack was out
of sight before Walter fairly realized it. Then it occurred to him that
it was very strange that the driver should want a horse to pursue a man
on foot who had but a few minutes the start of him, but when he came to
think about it, it was not so very strange either. Walter knew that some
of the Kaffirs could run like deer, and he knew, too, that Mack, having
been accustomed to ride on horseback ever since he was large enough to
sit alone in the saddle, was very much averse to walking, and very
clumsy besides; so perhaps the best thing had been done after all. He
was sorry to hear of his uncle’s loss, and wondered how the Kaffir could
have succeeded in obtaining possession of the weapon and stealing away
without being seen by Bob, who stood where he could observe every move
that was made about the tent. He waited most impatiently for Mack’s
return, but could hear nothing of him—it was so dark that he could not
have seen him until he was close upon the camp—and at ten o’clock he
mended the fire and called his relief. Archie presently came out with
his Maynard on his shoulder, and Walter told him what had happened,
adding that he had been looking for Mack every minute during the last
hour, and now began to fear that the Kaffir had succeeded in eluding him
in the darkness. He lay down on his blanket, intending to speak to Bob
about it; but the latter lingered to talk to his relief, and when he
came into the tent Walter was fast asleep.
Mack did not return during Archie’s watch, and at twelve o’clock he
called Eugene, to whom he repeated the substance of what Walter had told
him. Of course Eugene was highly excited at once, and when Archie went
into the tent, he walked toward the other end of the camp to take a look
at the Kaffirs, and see who it was that was missing. There was one among
them who had in some way incurred Eugene’s displeasure, and if this was
the one who had stolen Uncle Dick’s rifle, he would not be at all sorry
to see the wagon-whip used on him.
“Now just listen to me a minute, and I’ll tell you what’s a fact. What
are you doing here?” demanded Perk, who stood sentry at that end of the
camp.
“Do you know that one of your Kaffirs has run away?” asked Eugene.
“No; and one of them hasn’t run away, either,” replied Perk, almost
indignantly. “I haven’t been asleep.”
“Oh, he went while Bob was on—stole Uncle Dick’s fine gun too, the
rascal.”
“Then I must be blind, or else he put a dummy in his bed,” declared
Perk. “I counted them when I came out, and they were all there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure that I can count as high as four?”
“I begin to think you can’t,” answered Eugene. “Let’s go and see.”
The two boys advanced on tip-toe toward the place where the native
servants were curled up under the shelter of the thorn-bushes. They were
all soundly asleep, and so closely covered with their skin cloaks that
nothing but the tops of their woolly heads could be seen. Eugene counted
them twice, and then to make assurance doubly sure, went closer and
lifted the cloaks so that he could see their faces. Then he stepped back
again and looked at Perk. “What do you think now?” asked the latter.
Eugene did not know what to think.
“Who first started the story that one of them had run away?” continued
Perk.
“Mack started it. He told Walter so.”
“Now I’ll just tell you what’s a fact. Where’s Mack?”
“He borrowed Walter’s horse and gun and went out to catch the Kaffir.”
“Yes, and in the morning we’ll have to send somebody out to catch Mack.
I understand now why he didn’t want Archie to go out to look for his
horse. He had the animal tied up out there in the woods.”
“No!” exclaimed Eugene.
“Didn’t he ask if there was a rope on him? The horse got away somehow,
and Mack being afraid that he had brought the rope back with him, wanted
to get hold of him, so that he could take it off before we saw it. He
intended to leave the animal out there in the bushes until after dark,
when he would jump on him, and ride away; but that plan being knocked in
the head, he made up that funny story he told Walter, and got off after
all.”
Eugene waited to hear no more. Believing that Perk had made a very
shrewd guess, as indeed he had, he rushed into the tent to arouse his
uncle, and in doing so awoke all the boys, who, fearing that something
dreadful had happened, started up in alarm, and reached hurriedly for
their weapons. “Mack’s gone!” was all Eugene could say in reply to their
questions.
“I thought so,” exclaimed Walter, who then went on to describe the
interview that had taken place between him and the driver.
“It is all my fault,” said Frank. “I might have warned you.”
“Don’t worry over it,” returned Uncle Dick, quickly. “There’s no one to
blame except myself. If I had told you to put the boys on their guard
against Mack, you would have done so. You fellows, who are on watch,
keep your eyes open, and see that we don’t lose any more horses and
guns, and the rest of us will go to sleep again.”
Eugene thought this was taking matters very coolly, but after all he did
not see that there was anything else to be done. Mack was mounted on a
fleet horse and had a good long start; and besides he was so well
acquainted with the country that he could have escaped if there had been
an army in pursuit of him. He was gone, and there was an end of the
matter.
The boys were gloomy enough the next morning, but Uncle Dick was as
cheerful as usual. He aroused the Kaffirs at daylight and ordered them
to drive the oxen out to graze, while the boys, having turned the horses
loose, began the work of packing up. The Kaffirs obeyed very sullenly,
and the old sailor saw plainly enough that the trouble with his hired
help was only just beginning. They drove the oxen out, and contrary to
his usual custom, the cook went with them. They passed pretty close to
their employer, who saw their spear-heads sticking out from under one
side of their cloaks, while the other was bulged out as if the wearers
were carrying something under their left arms. He suspected the truth at
once, but said nothing, and smoked his morning pipe as serenely as
though everything was working to his entire satisfaction.
“Where in the world is that cook?” exclaimed Eugene about an hour later,
after the tent had been struck and all the camp equipage packed away in
the wagon. “I don’t see any preparations for breakfast.”
“Neither do I,” said Uncle Dick. “Perk, you used to act as ship’s cook
in the Banner once in a while; suppose you show us what you can do in
that line now. Yes,” he added, in reply to the inquiring looks that were
directed toward him, “we’re deserted.”
The boys dropped their work and gazed at one another in speechless
astonishment. At first they could hardly realize what the words meant.
They felt a good deal as shipwrecked mariners must feel when they find
themselves tossing about in the waves in an open boat with not a point
of land or a friendly sail in sight.
“From this time forward we must do the best we can by ourselves,”
continued the old sailor, cheerfully. “The Griquas here will show us the
way to their country, and when we have sold them everything there is in
the wagon that they want, we’ll hire some of them to guide us back to
the coast.”
“And when we get there, if we ever do, I for one shall be ready to start
for home,” declared Walter.
“Oh, don’t get gloomy over it. Some of you have been in worse situations
than this.”
“But are you sure the Kaffirs are gone?” asked Fred.
“As sure as I can be. When they went out with the oxen this morning they
took all their property with them.”
“And you saw it and never tried to stop them?” inquired Eugene.
“I did. Why should I try to stop them? If a Kaffir will not work
willingly you can’t force him to do it. They would have slipped away
from us some time or other, and since they were bound to go, they might
as well go to-day as to-morrow.”
The boys were stunned, bewildered by this unexpected calamity, and it
was a long time before Uncle Dick’s cheering words had any effect on
them.
They had depended wholly upon Mack to make this expedition successful,
and to conduct them safely back to the coast, and now that he was gone
it seemed as if their mainstay was gone, and that there was nothing left
for them but to give up entirely. They had put such implicit faith in
Mack, too! It was only during the last few hours that any one began to
suspect that he was not altogether worthy of the confidence that had
been reposed in him.
But this gloomy state of feeling could not long continue while the old
sailor was about. His cheerfulness and good-nature were contagious, and
in less than half an hour the boys were talking as merrily about what
they had considered to be a misfortune as though it was the most
agreeable thing that could have happened to them. Perk’s breakfast
completely restored their spirits, and when they had done full justice
to it, the inspanning began. This was the most annoying piece of work
the boys had yet undertaken. They shouted and talked Dutch and threw
stones as they had heard and seen the Kaffirs do, but the oxen were not
acquainted with them, and ran away as fast as they were brought up to
the yokes. Eugene said it was because the animals were disgusted with
their efforts to talk in a foreign tongue, and advised his companions to
scold them in English; but this had no better effect. However, after
they had all shouted themselves hoarse, and thrown stones until their
arms ached, the last ox was put into the yoke, and Walter, who
volunteered to act as driver, picked up the whip.
“Whoa! Haw, there, Buck! Get up!” he shouted; and following the example
of the absent driver, who always gave the signal for starting by making
his whip crack like a pistol, he swung the heavy lash around, but with
no other result than to hit himself a stinging blow across the ear.
While his companions were laughing at him, and Walter was dancing about,
holding one hand to the side of his head, and trying with the other to
unwrap the lash that had wound itself around his body, Uncle Dick
shouted: “Trek! trek!” The oxen, understanding this, settled into the
yokes, and the wagon was quickly in motion.
We might relate many interesting and some amusing incidents that
happened during the next few weeks, but as we have to do principally
with the adventures that befell our heroes, we must hasten on to the
last, and wind up the history of the Sportsman’s Club. Led by the
Griquas, who acted as their guides, the travellers finally reached the
principal village of the tribe (they saw nothing of the wild Bushmen
during the journey, although they kept a constant lookout for them) and
when they had taken a good view of it, they fervently hoped that their
stay there would be a short one. They could see nothing attractive in
the dirty savages who surrounded them, or in the still dirtier hovels
that served them for shelter. Besides, they were growing heartily tired
of staying ashore. They had seen quite enough of life in Africa, and
began to talk more about home and friends than they had done at any time
since leaving Bellville. But their departure from the village was
delayed more than a month. In the first place, the natives proved to be
hard people to deal with. It took them a long time to make up their
minds how much ivory ought to be given for one of the guns Uncle Dick
offered them, and when that point had been settled, the chief suddenly
found out that there was no ivory in the village, and that he would have
to send and bring it before any trading could be done. Upon hearing
this, Uncle Dick inspanned at once and set out for the coast; but before
he had gone many miles he was overtaken by a messenger from the chief,
who told him that if he would return to the village he should have an
elephant’s tooth for every gun he had to sell. The travellers turned
back, and after that there was little delay in the trading. The
elephants’ teeth came in rapidly, the last gun was finally disposed of,
and when the ivory had been packed away in the wagon, and guides and
servants engaged, the travellers were ready to turn their faces
homeward.
The last night they were to pass among the Griquas was spent by the boys
in doing a little trading on their own account. They were strolling
about, taking a last look at everything, and exchanging a few beads, and
some brass and copper wire, for spears and war-clubs, when their
attention was attracted by a commotion which suddenly arose in the upper
end of the town. The boys looked up, and were surprised to see that the
natives were running about in the greatest alarm, catching up whatever
articles of value they could lay their hands on, and then dodging into
their hovels and barricading their doors after them. Some of the more
timid ones, having collected their property, took to their heels, and
ran across the plain as if a pack of jackals were after them.
“What’s up now?” asked Archie. “I don’t see anything to frighten them.”
“Who are those coming there?” said Frank.
The others looked in the direction he pointed, and saw a long line of
warriors rising over the nearest hill. While they were looking at them,
wondering who they were and what had brought them there, they heard
Uncle Dick calling to them. “Here’s more trouble, boys,” said the old
sailor. “I don’t want to alarm you, but it is always well to be prepared
for the worst.”
“Is the village going to be attacked?” asked Frank.
“Oh, no. These are Zulus, and they are probably a delegation sent by
their king to take us to that country.”
“Across the desert where the wild Bushmen live?” exclaimed Eugene.
“Exactly,” replied Uncle Dick.
“But we have nothing they want,” said Walter. “We’ve sold all our guns,
beads, and wire.”
“I know it.”
“Then tell them so when they come up.”
“What good will it do? Haven’t you seen enough of these natives to know
that you can’t reason with them any more than you can reason with a
stone?”
“What made the Griquas run so,” asked Bob.
“Oh, these Zulus are a fierce and warlike race, and the Griquas are
afraid of them. But they are after us now. If their leader has orders to
take us back with him, he’ll have to do it or lose his head when he gets
home.”
This was a most alarming piece of news. The driver had said so much
about the wild Bushmen and their poisoned arrows, and had given so
graphic a description of the desert they lived in, where there was no
game to be found, and no grass or water for the stock, that the boys
were frightened whenever they thought of the dangers that must attend
every step of the journey to the Zulu country. While they were turning
the matter over in their minds, the warriors marched through the
principal street of the village, which was by this time entirely
deserted, and stopped in front of Uncle Dick’s tent. There were probably
a hundred and fifty of them in the band. They were fine-looking men
physically, and all except two were armed with spears and war-clubs, and
carried shields of elephant’s hide. Those who were not armed followed
close behind the leader, and carried two elephants’ tusks upon their
shoulders.
The leader of the warriors stopped in front of Uncle Dick, and after
laying down his shield and weapons began a speech, which would no doubt
have proved very entertaining to the travellers if they could have
understood it; but as the chief spoke in his native tongue his words did
not make much of an impression upon them. The speech occupied the best
part of ten minutes, and when it was concluded the men with the
elephants’ tusks stepped up and laid them on the ground in front of
Uncle Dick, and when they straightened up again one of them began to
interpret the speech in Dutch. Then the boys listened with some
interest. They had learned enough of this language during their
intercourse with Mack and the Griquas, to carry on quite a lengthy
conversation with any one who spoke slowly and distinctly. The native
did neither, but still the Club caught enough of his speech to satisfy
them that Uncle Dick had not been mistaken in regard to the object the
Zulus had in view in visiting his camp. The speaker said that his king,
who lived on the other side of the desert, was a very powerful monarch,
and having heard that there was an English trader in the neighborhood
(the natives seemed to think that every white man who came into their
country to hunt and trade must of necessity be an Englishman), he had
sent him and his companions to conduct him to their principal town,
where there was ivory enough to fill a dozen wagons. To prove it the
king had sent the trader two elephants’ teeth, in exchange for which he
expected to receive the best double-barrel there was in the party. The
faithful warriors who brought these teeth were hungry and thirsty, for
they had travelled far and rapidly, and the Englishman must furnish them
with meat to eat and tea to drink.
Uncle Dick’s reply to this insolent demand was short and to the point.
There was not meat enough in his wagon to feed so large a party, he
said, and he could not spend time to hunt for it, for having sold all
his guns he had made ready to start for Grahamstown early the next
morning; so the warriors might take their elephant’s teeth and go back
as they came. The interpreter seemed to be greatly shocked at this
reply, and tried to remonstrate with Uncle Dick, telling him that he was
running a great risk in defying his king in that way. But the old sailor
repeated what he had said, adding that as he was a licensed trader, he
was free to go and come when he pleased, and he intended to exercise the
privilege.
The chief listened impatiently while this conversation was going on, and
when it was ended turned to the interpreter to hear Uncle Dick’s reply.
It threw him into an awful rage at once. He stamped his feet on the
ground, caught up handfuls of dust and threw them into the air above his
head, swung his arms wildly about, and shouted at the top of his voice.
The longer he talked the angrier he seemed to grow; and what he might
have been led to do had he been allowed to go on until his rage boiled
over, it is hard to tell; but just as he was working himself up to the
fighting-point, he was interrupted most unexpectedly. A series of
terrific Indian yells, so loud and piercing that they completely drowned
the chief’s voice, suddenly arose on the air, causing the warrior to
drop his arms and stand motionless with amazement. Of course the yells
came from Dick Lewis. He thought from the looks of things that a fight
would soon be in progress, and began preparing for it in a manner
peculiar to himself. He dashed his hat upon the ground, pulled off his
hunting shirt and sent it after the hat, and began to loosen his joints
by making the most extraordinary leaps and contortions, yelling the
while with all the power of his lungs. The chief looked at him for a few
seconds, and then hastily gathering up his weapons, made off, followed
by his men, who fled in such haste that they never thought to take the
elephants’ teeth with them. In two minutes from the time Dick began his
leaping and shouting there was not one of them in sight.