With the dawn next morning the emigrants were up and away. The interest
of the journey increased with every novel experience and each new
discovery, while preconceived notions and depressions were dissipated by
the improved appearance of the country.
About the same time that the Scotch "party" left the Bay, several of the
other parties set out, some large and some small, each under its
appointed leader, to colonise the undulating plains of the Zuurveld.
Soon the pilgrims became accustomed to the nightly serenade of hyena and
jackal--also to breakneck steeps, and crashing jolts, and ugly tumbles.
But they were all hopeful, and most of them were young, and all, or
nearly all, were disposed to make light of difficulties.
The country they were about to colonise had been recently overrun by
Kafir hordes. These had been cleared out, and driven across the Great
Fish River by British and Colonial troops, leaving the land a
wilderness, with none to dispute possession save the wild beasts. It
extended fifty miles along the coast from the Bushman's River to the
Great Fish River, and was backed by an irregular line of mountains at an
average distance of sixty miles from the sea.
Leaving the Zwartkops River, not only the Scottish party, but all the
other parties, filed successively away in long trains across the Sundays
River, over the Addo Hill and the Quagga Flats and the Bushman's River
heights, until the various points of divergence were reached, when the
column broke into divisions, which turned off to their several locations
and overspread the land.
There was "Baillie's party," which crossed Lower Albany to the mouth of
the Great Fish River, and on the way were charmed with the aspect of the
country, which was at that time enriched and rendered verdant by recent
rains, and enlivened by the presence of hartebeests, quaggas,
springboks, and an occasional ostrich. There was, however, a "wash" of
shadow laid on part of the pleasant picture, to counteract the idea that
the Elysian plains had been reached, in the shape of two or three
blackened and ruined farms of the old Dutch colonists--sad remains of
the recent Kafir war--solemn reminders of the uncertainties and
possibilities of the future.
Then there was the "Nottingham party." They took possession of a lovely
vale, which they named Clumber, in honour of the Duke of Newcastle,
their patron. "Sefton's party" settled on the Assegai Bush River and
founded the village of Salem, afterwards noted as the headquarters of
the Reverend William Shaw, a Wesleyan, and one of the most able and
useful of South Africa's missionary pioneers. Wilson's party settled
between the Waay-plaats and the Kowie Bush, across the path of the
elephants, which creatures some of the party, it is said, attempted to
shoot with fowling-pieces. Of the smaller parties, those of Cock,
Thornhill, Smith (what series of adventurous parties ever went forth
without a "Smith's party"?), Osler, and Richardson, located themselves
behind the thicket-clad sand hills of the Kowie and Green Fountain. But
space forbids us referring, even in brief detail, to the parties of
James and Hyman and Dyson, and Holder, Mouncey, Hayhurst, Bradshaw,
Southey; and of Scott, with the Irish party, and that of Mahony, which
at the "Clay Pits," had afterwards to meet the first shock of every
Kafir invasion of Lower Albany. Among these and other parties there
were men of power, who left a lasting mark on the colony, and many of
them left numerous descendants to perpetuate their names--such as
Dobson, Bowker, Campbell, Ayliffe, Phillips, Piggott, Greathead,
Roberts, Stanley, and others too numerous to mention.
But with all these we have nothing to do just now. Our present duty is
to follow those sections of the great immigrant band with the fortunes
of which our tale has more particularly to do.
At the points of separation, where the long column broke up, a halt was
made, while many farewells and good wishes were said.
"So you're gaun to settle thereawa'?" said Sandy Black to John Skyd and
his brothers as they stood on an eminence commanding a magnificent view
of the rich plains and woodlands of the Zuurveld.
"Even so, friend Black," replied John, "and sorry am I that our lot is
not to be cast together. However, let's hope that we may meet again ere
long somewhere or other in our new land."
"It is quite romantic," observed James Skyd, "to look over this vast
region and call it our own,--at least, with the right to pick and choose
where we feel inclined. Isn't it, Bob?"
To this Bob replied that it was, and that he felt quite like the
children of Israel when they first came in sight of the promised land.
"I hope we won't have to fight as hard for it as they did," remarked
Frank Dobson.
"It's my opeenion," said Sandy Black, "that if we haena to fight _for
it_, we'll hae to fight a bit to _keep_ it."
"Perhaps we may," returned John Skyd, "and if so, fighting will be more
to my taste than farming--not that I'm constitutionally pugnacious, but
I fear that my brothers and I shall turn out to be rather ignorant
cultivators of the soil."
Honest Sandy Black admitted that he held the same opinion.
"Well, we shall try our best," said the elder Skyd, with a laugh; "I've
a great belief in that word `_try_'.--Goodbye, Sandy." He held out his
hand.
The Scot shook it warmly, and the free-and-easy brothers, after bidding
adieu to the rest of the Scotch party, who overtook them there, diverged
to the right with their friend Frank Dobson, and walked smartly after
their waggons, which had gone on in advance.
"Stoot chields they are, an' pleesant," muttered Sandy, leaning both
hands on a thick cudgel which he had cut for himself out of the bush,
"but wofu' ignorant o' farmin'."
"They'll make their mark on the colony for all that," said a quiet voice
at Sandy's elbow.
Turning and looking up, as well as round, he encountered the hazel eyes
and open countenance of Hans Marais.
"Nae doot, nae doot, they'll mak' their mark, but it'll no' be wi' the
pleugh, or I'm sair mista'en. Wull mair o' the settlers be pairtin'
frae us here?"
Hans, although ignorant of the dialect in which he was addressed,
understood enough to make out its drift.
"Yes," he replied, "several parties leave us at this point, and here
comes one of them."
As he spoke, the cracking of whips announced the approach of a team. A
moment later, and a small Hottentot came, round a bend in the road,
followed by the leading pair of oxen. It was the train of Edwin Brook,
who soon appeared, riding a small horse. George Dally walked beside
him. Scholtz, the German, followed, conversing with the owner of the
waggon. In the waggon itself Mrs Brook, Mrs Scholtz, and Junkie found
a somewhat uneasy resting-place, for, being new to the style of travel,
they had not learned to accommodate themselves to jolts and crashes.
Gertie preferred to walk, the pace not being more than three miles an
hour.
"Oh, father!" said Gertie, running up to the side of her sire, with
girlish vivacity, "there is the tall Dutchman who was so polite to me
when I was pricked by the thorn bush."
"True, Gertie, and there also is the Scot who was so free and easy in
giving his opinion as to the farming powers of the brothers Skyd."
"Your road diverges here, sir," said Hans, as Brook rode up; "I fell
behind my party to bid you God-speed, and to express a hope that we may
meet again."
"Thanks, friend, thanks," said Brook, extending his hand. "I am obliged
for the aid you have rendered me, and the advice given, which latter I
shall no doubt find valuable.--You are bound for the highlands, of
course," he added, turning to Sandy Black. "We of the Albany lowlands
must have a friendly rivalry with you of the highlands, and see who
shall subdue the wilderness most quickly."
This remark sent the Scot into a rather learned disquisition as to the
merits and probable prospects of a hill as compared with a low-lying
region, during which Hans Marais turned to Gertie. Being so very tall,
he had to stoop as well as to look down at her pretty face, though
Gertie was by no means short for her age. Indeed, she was as tall as
average women, but, being only twelve, was slender and girlish.
"How _very_ tall you are, Mr Marais!" she exclaimed, with a laugh, as
she looked up.
"True, Gertie," said Hans, using the only name which he had yet heard
applied to the girl; "true, we Cape-Dutchmen are big fellows as a race,
and I happen to be somewhat longer than my fellows. I hope you don't
object to me on that account?"
"Object? oh no! But it _is_ so funny to have to look up so high. It's
like speaking to father when he's on horseback."
"Well, Gertie, extra height has its advantages and its inconveniences.
Doubtless it was given to me for some good end, just as a pretty little
face and figure were given to you."
"You are very impudent, Mr Hans."
"Am I? Then I must ask your pardon. But tell me, Gertie, what do you
think of the new life that is before you?"
"How stupid you are, Hans! If the new life were behind me I might be
able to answer, but how can I tell how I shall like what I don't know
anything about?"
"Nay, but you know something of the beginning of it," returned the young
Dutchman, with an amused smile, "and you have heard much of what is yet
to come. What do you think of the _prospect_ before you?"
"Think of the prospect?" repeated Gertie, knitting her brows and looking
down with a pretended air of profound thought; "let me see: the prospect
as I've heard father say to mother,--which was just a repetition of what
I had heard him previously say to these queer brothers Skyd--is a life
in the bush--by which I suppose he means the bushes--in which we shall
have to cut down the trees, plough up the new soil, build our cottages,
rear our sheep and cattle, milk our cows, make our butter, grow our
food, and sometimes hunt it, fashion our clothing, and protect our
homes. Is that right?"
"Well, that's just about it," was the answer; "how do you like that
prospect?"
"I delight in it," cried the girl, with a flash in her brilliant black
eyes, while she half laughed at her own sudden burst of enthusiasm.
"Only fancy! mother milking the cows, and me making butter, and Scholtz
ploughing, and Dally planting, and nurse tending Junkie and making all
sorts of garments, while father goes out with his gun to shoot food and
protect us from the Kafirs."
"'Tis a pleasant picture," returned Hans, with a bland smile, "and I
hope may be soon realised--I must bid you goodbye now, Gertie, we
separate here."
"Do you go far away?" asked the girl, with a touch of sadness, as she
put her little hand into that of the young giant.
"A goodish bit. Some six or eight days' journey from here,--according
to the weather."
"You'll come and see us some day, won't you, Hans?"
"Ja--I will," replied Hans, with emphasis.
The whips cracked again, the oxen strained, the lumbering waggons
groaned as they moved away, and while the Scotch band passed over the
Zuurbergen range and headed in the direction of the Winterberg
mountains, their English friends spread themselves over the fertile
plains of Albany.
A few days of slow but pleasant journeying and romantic
night-bivouacking brought the latter to their locations on the Kowie and
Great Fish River.
On the way, the party to which Edwin Brook belonged passed the ground
already occupied by the large band of settlers known as "Chapman's
party," which had left Algoa Bay a few weeks before them in an imposing
procession of ninety-six waggons. They had been accompanied to their
future home by a small detachment of the Cape Corps, the officer in
command of which gave them the suggestive advice, on bidding them
goodbye, never to leave their guns behind them when they went out to
plough! Although so short a time located, this party had produced a
marvellous change in the appearance of the wilderness, and gave the
settlers who passed farther eastward, an idea of what lay before
themselves. Fields had already been marked out; the virgin soil broken
up; timber cut, and bush cleared; while fragile cottages and huts were
springing up here and there to supplant the tents which had given the
first encampments a somewhat military aspect. Grotesque dwellings
these, many of them, with mats and rugs for doors, and white calico or
empty space for windows. It was interesting, in these first locations,
to mark the development of character among the settlers. Those who were
practical examined the "lie" of the land and the nature of the soil,
with a view to their future residence. Timid souls chose their sites
with reference to defence. Men of sentiment had regard to the
picturesque, and careless fellows "squatted" in the first convenient
spot that presented itself. Of course errors of judgment had to be
corrected afterwards on all hands, but the power to choose and change
was happily great at first, as well as easy.
As Brook's party advanced, portions of it dropped off or turned aside,
until at last Edwin found himself reduced to one family besides his own.
Even this he parted from on a ridge of land which overlooked his own
"location," and about noon of the same day his waggons came to a halt on
a grassy mound, which was just sufficiently elevated to command a
magnificent view of the surrounding country.
"Your location," said his Dutch waggon-driver, with a curious smile, as
though he should say, "I wonder what you'll do with yourselves."
But the Dutchman made no further remark. He was one of the taciturn
specimens of his class, and began at once to unload the waggon. With
the able assistance of Brook and his men, and the feeble aid of the
"Tottie," or Hottentot leader of the "span" of oxen, the boxes, ploughs,
barrels, bags, cases, etcetera, which constituted the worldly wealth of
the settlers, were soon placed on the green sward. Then the Dutchman
said "goeden-dag," or farewell, shook hands all round, cracked his long
whip, and went off into the unknown wilderness, leaving the Brook family
to its reflections.