"Trade? we have no trade. Our _profession_ is that of clerks--knights
of the quill; at least such was our profession in the old country. In
this new land, my brother Bob's profession is fun, Jim's is jollity, and
mine is a compound of both, called joviality. As to our chum Dobson,
his profession may be styled remonstrance, for he is perpetually
checking our levity, as he calls it; always keeping us in order and
snubbing us, nevertheless we couldn't do without him. In fact, we may
be likened to a social clock, of which Jim is the mainspring, Bob the
weight, I the striking part of the works, and Dobson the pendulum. But
we are not particular, we are ready for anything."
"Ay, an' fit for nothin'," observed Sandy, with a peculiar smile and
shrug, meant to indicate that his jest was more than half earnest.
The three brothers laughed again at this, and their friend Dobson
smiled. Dobson's smile was peculiar. The corners of his mouth turned
down instead of up, thereby giving his grave countenance an unusually
arch expression.
"Why, what do you mean, you cynical Scot!" demanded John Skyd. "Our
shoulders are broad enough, are they not? nearly as broad as your own."
"Oo' ay, yer shoothers are weel aneugh, but I wadna gie much for yer
heeds or haunds."
Reply to this was interrupted by the appearance, in the opening of the
tent, of a man whose solemn but kindly face checked the flow of flippant
conversation.
"You look serious, Orpin; has anything gone wrong?" asked Frank Dobson.
"Our friend is dying," replied the man, sadly. "He will soon meet his
opponent in the land where all is light and where all disputes shall be
ended in agreement."
Orpin referred to two of the settlers whose careers in South Africa were
destined to be cut short on the threshold. The two men had been
earnestly religious, but, like all the rest of Adam's fallen race, were
troubled with the effects of original sin. They had disputed hotly, and
had ultimately quarrelled, on religious subjects on the voyage out. One
of them died before he landed; the other was the man of whom Orpin now
spoke. The sudden change in the demeanour of the brothers Skyd
surprised as well as gratified Sandy Black. That sedate, and literally
as well as figuratively, long-headed Scot, had felt a growing distaste
to the flippant young Englishers, as he styled them, but when he saw
them throw off their light character, as one might throw off a garment,
and rise eagerly and sadly to question Orpin about the dying man, he
felt, as mankind is often forced to feel, that a first, and especially a
hasty, judgment is often incorrect.
Stephen Orpin was a mechanic and a Wesleyan, in virtue of which latter
connection, and a Christian spirit, he had been made a local preacher.
He was on his way to offer his services as a watcher by the bedside of
the dying man.
This man and his opponent were not the only emigrants who finished their
course thus abruptly. Dr Cotton, the "Head" of the "Nottingham party,"
Dr Caldecott and some others, merely came, as it were like Moses, in
sight of the promised land, and then ended their earthly career. Yet
some of these left a valuable contribution, in their children, to the
future colony.
While Black and his friend Jerry were observing Orpin, as he conversed
with the brothers Skyd, the tall burly Englishman from whose shoulders
the former had been hurled into the sea, chanced to pass, and quietly
grasped the Scot by the arm.
"Here you are at last! Why, man, I've been lookin' for you ever since
that unlucky accident, to offer you a change of clothes and a feed in my
tent--or I should say _our_ tent, for I belong to a `party,' like every
one else here. Come along."
"Thank 'ee kindly," answered Sandy, "but what between haverin' wi' thae
Englishers an' drinkin' their whusky, my freen' Jerry an' me's dry
aneugh already."
The Englishman, however, would not listen to any excuse. He was one of
those hearty men, with superabundant animal spirits--to say nothing of
physique--who are not easily persuaded to let others follow their own
inclinations, and who are so good-natured that it is difficult to feel
offended with their kindly roughness. He introduced himself by the name
of George Dally, and insisted on Black accompanying him to his tent.
Sandy being a sociable, although a quiet man, offered little resistance,
and Jerry, being a worshipper of Sandy, followed with gay nonchalance.