It is safe to say that no more light-hearted unit among Her Majesty's
subjects existed than Dick Selmes as he rode out that day to the
Waybridges' farm.
Here he was, suddenly and unexpectedly called upon to undergo a wholly
delightful sojourn once more beneath the same roof with this girl who
had held his thoughts during the past three months. And now he was
resolved to bring things to a head, and somehow he thought he had no
reason to despair of doing so. Had he been near enough to catch what
was working in the mind of one of the occupants of the Cape cart--which
he was not, for his horse, fresh and "beany" from stable confinement and
diet, would not be held in to the more sober, jog-trot pace of a
vehicle--he might have thought so still more.
In her first glance at him Hazel had decided that, whatever it was that
she had found wanting in him before, had now been supplied as though it
were the missing link of a chain. The experiences he had been through
since their last meeting had hardened and strengthened Dick Selmes in
every way. He had taken part in more than one battle, and had undergone
perils such as had fallen to the lot of few--as we know--and such
experience had left its mark. He had learned self-reliance in a sharp
school, but he had learned it. There was a straight decisive look in
his clear eyes which had not been there before, a stamp, too, of it in
his features, and now Hazel came to the conclusion that Dick Selmes was
the handsomest man she had ever seen, or would ever be likely to see.
Even now, how well he looked on horseback. His steed, the same one
which had carried him through his express-riding experience, just now
was giving ample opportunity for a display of horsemanship; and,
watching both from the cart, Hazel realised that small Jacky was but
voicing her own verdict in rough and ready fashion when he exclaimed--
"Ma, but Mr Selmes is a fine chap, and, can't he just ride!"
"And swim too, eh, Jacky?" was the maternal reply, given significantly.
"_Ja_. Rather!"
It was sunset when they reached the farm; whose owner they could see
down at the sheep kraals some little way off, apparently engaged in
counting in, and at this they would not disturb him. A Kafir stable
hand came up to take the horses.
"Come in, Mr Selmes. My husband will be up directly, when he's done
counting. He and Magwelo will do the outspanning."
"Oh, but I can give a hand so long, Mrs Waybridge. Why--if that isn't
Elsie."
"Ay, it's Elsie. And how are ye, Mr Selmes?" said the Scotswoman, as
Dick heartily shook hands with her. "Man, but ye'll have seen
something, A'm thinking, since ye first took me for Miss Hazel, up at
Mr Hesketh's."
"Elsie, that joke's stale," cut in Hazel, quickly. "I don't know either
that it was ever much of a joke in any case."
And Dick felt grateful. He did not want to be reminded of having made
an ass of himself--and that before other people. But the Scotswoman
turned away, not in the least offended, however. Soon the owner of the
place was seen approaching. He was a middle-aged, strongly built man,
with a quiet-looking, shrewd face, thickly bearded, and he was rather
reticent of speech.
"John," said his wife, "I've brought you some one you've very much
wanted to see--Mr Selmes."
"Very much wanted to," echoed the other, heartily. "I should rather
think so. How are you, sir--and a thousand welcomes. I need hardly say
how glad I am of the opportunity of thanking you in person--"
"No--no, Mr Waybridge. That's a subject we must agree not to mention,"
protested Dick. "Really--if only to oblige me."
"There are some subjects that can't be dismissed so lightly," was the
answer. "You don't meet with cases of heroism so often as all that."
"Oh, Mrs Waybridge, do come to my rescue," laughed Dick. "Now I'm
going to take refuge in helping to outspan. Hallo! There's my little
friend, Florrie. How she's grown."
A pretty little girl came half shyly forward. She and Jacky constituted
the Waybridges' surviving family. Waybridge himself had not been
present on the occasion of the rescue, his wife and children having been
on a visit to Cape Town without him.
This Kaffrarian farm was pleasingly situated; in front and around an
undulating roll of mimosa-dotted plains, at the back a line of hills,
covered with dark bush. Now, as the sun dropped down to the horizon,
these were thrown out all green and gold. At the back of the house was
a large fruit garden, fenced in by hedges of quince and pomegranate.
The sheep kraals lay in front, at some little distance.
"I'm afraid you'll find it a bit slow here, Mr Selmes," said Waybridge,
as they were seated out on the stoep after supper. "I hear you're a
great sportsman, but there's nothing on earth to shoot here."
"Yet all that bush at the back ought to show something," said Dick.
"So it ought, but it doesn't. There are a sight too many Kafirs--and
dogs. They won't leave a hoof anywhere within reach. Clear
everything."
"That's very nearly what Mr Selmes did at Haakdoorn," said Hazel,
mischievously.
"Ah, that was a very paradise of a shoot," answered Dick, meeting her
eyes in the starlight; and she read into the words a meaning beyond what
they might on the surface convey, as he intended she should. It was
like old times sitting out in the still night with her beside him, he
thought. Then the conversation, as it was bound to do, got on to the
war, and Dick, being pressed to do so, told them about his adventures.
These, as a rule, he avoided talking about lest he should be suspected
of brag.
"You see," he now concluded, "you wanted to hear about things, but don't
imagine for a moment I'm particularly proud of any of those experiences,
because honestly I'm not. The more I look back on them, the more
convinced I am that I acted the silly ass; especially in running other
people into unnecessary risk to get me out. And if it hadn't been for
Greenoak, time after time, I never should have been got out."
"What about Gcalekaland now?" said Waybridge.
"Think it's settled?"
"I believe so. The niggers were knocked into a cocked hat. But what
about your crowd round here? Are they reliable?"
"There is unrest," answered Waybridge. "Yes, decidedly there is unrest.
But if we all followed the example of some of our neighbours by running
away into laager, it would be courting the very danger we want to avoid.
Isn't it a fact that the way to draw any animal after you is to run
away from it? Of course; and so some of us made a kind of league to
stick to our farms."
"Aren't you uneasy, Mrs Waybridge?" said Dick.
"Not in the least. I don't believe, either, that the Kafirs would do us
any harm. We are on very good terms with them, and the old chief,
Nteya, who bosses all the Gaikas round here, is a really nice old man,
and we are very friendly. At worst we should be sure to get warning to
clear."
"These scares occur from time to time," went on Waybridge, "and one of
the results is that your servants all leave. When they come back you
may rely upon it that the scare is over. Just now I'm badly off for
hands. Four cleared out one night, all Sandili's people. But they'll
come back. Nteya's people stayed on, and those are the three I have
yet."
Dick Selmes, a lurking anxiety at the back of his mind on account of
Hazel, felt reassured. His host's serene composure on the subject could
hardly fail to carry that effect. Then, upon the stillness of the night
a far-away, long-drawn sound floated weirdly.
"By Jingo!" he cried, "that reminds me of the war-dance in Vunisa's
location that I've just been telling you about. Listen."
They did listen. Again and again the strange sound wailed forth,
seeming to come from where a distant glow was now visible beyond a roll
of the plain.
"It is a dance of some sort," said Waybridge, "but I don't suppose it's
a war-dance. Sounds as if it was over at old Umjuza's kraal, or not far
from it. They often go in for dances, maybe for a wedding, or maybe
like we do, for the sake of having a little festivity. It's just an
extraordinary beer-drinking, I expect."
But to one who had heard it before, in grim and sinister earnest, that
sound coming out of the darkness, as the voices of ravening beasts
straining to be let loose, combined, too, with the state of uneasiness
and tension then existing, struck a feeling of vague inquietude. Dick
Selmes wondered if he felt as reassured as his host's explanation and
unruffled serenity should have warranted him in feeling.