In the midst of the confused heap of their property, Edwin Brook sat
down on a large chest beside his wife and daughter, and gazed for some
time in silence on his new estate and home.
To say truth, it was in many respects a pleasant prospect. A bright
blue sky overhead, a verdant earth around. Grassy hills and undulations
of rich pasture-land swept away from their feet like a green sea, until
stopped in the far distance by the great blue sea itself. These were
dotted everywhere with copses of the yellow-flowered mimosa-bush,
through openings in which the glitter of a stream could be seen, while
to the left and behind lay the dark masses of a dense jungle filled with
arboreous and succulent plants, acacias and evergreens, wild-looking
aloes, tall euphorbias, quaint cactuses, and a great variety of
flowering shrubs--filled also, as was very soon discovered, with
antelopes, snakes, jackals, hyenas, leopards, and other wild creatures.
The only familiar objects which broke the wild beauty of the scene were
the distant white specks which they knew to be the tents just put up by
those settlers who chanced to be their "next neighbours."
"May God protect and bless us in our new home!" said Edwin Brook,
breaking the silence, and reverently taking off his cap.
A heartfelt "Amen" was murmured by Mrs Brook and Gertie, but a strange,
though not unpleasant, feeling of loneliness had crept over their
spirits, inducing them to relapse into silence, for they could not avoid
realising strongly that at last they were fairly left alone to fight the
great battle of life. Edwin Brook in particular, on seeing the long
team of the Dutch driver disappear over a distant ridge, was for the
first time deeply impressed with, as it were, the forsaken condition of
himself and his family. It was plain that he must take root there and
grow--or die. There was no neighbouring town or village from which help
could be obtained in any case of emergency; no cart or other means of
conveyance to remove their goods from the spot on which they had been
left; no doctor in case of sickness; no minister in cases either of joy
or sorrow--except indeed (and it was a blessed exception) Him who came
to our world "not to be ministered unto, but to minister."
Strong in the comfort that this assurance gave, Edwin Brook shook off
the lethargy that had been stealing over him, and set about the duties
of the present hour. The tent had to be pitched, the trunks and boxes
conveyed into it, a fire kindled, the kettle boiled, the goods and
chattels piled and secured from the weather, firewood cut to prepare for
the night-bivouac, etcetera.
Much of this work was already in progress, for George Dally,--with that
ready resource and quiet capacity of adaptation to circumstances which
he had displayed on the voyage out and on the journey to the location,--
had already kindled a fire, sent Scholtz to cut firewood, and was busy
erecting the tent when Brook joined him.
"That's right, George," he said, seizing a tent-peg and mallet; "we have
plenty to do here, and no time to waste."
"Very true, sir," replied George, touching his cap, for George was an
innately respectful man--respectful to _all_, though with a strong
tendency to humorous impudence; "very true, sir; that's just what I
thought when I see you a-meditatin', so I went to work at once without
wastin' any time."
"Is zat enough?" asked Scholtz, staggering up at the moment with a heavy
load of firewood, which he threw on the ground.
The question was put to George, for whom the big German had a special
regard, and whose orders he consequently obeyed with unquestioning
alacrity, although George had no special right to command.
"Enough!" exclaimed George, with a look of surprise, "why, _zat_ is not
enough to scare a weasel with, much less a elephant or a--a
platzicumroggijoo."
George was ignorant of South African zoology, and possessed inventive
powers.
"Bring ten times as much," he added; "we shall have to keep a blazin'
bonfire agoin' all night."
Scholtz re-shouldered his axe, and went off to the jungle with a broad
grin on his broader countenance.
He was a man who did not spare himself, yet of a temperament that kicked
at useless labour, and of a size that forbade the idea of compulsion,
but George Dally could have led him with a packthread to do anything.
Before he had reached the jungle, and while the smile was yet on his
visage, his blood was curdled and his face elongated by a most appalling
yell! It was not exactly a war-whoop, nor was it a cry of pain, though
it partook of both, and filled the entire family with horror as they
rushed to the tent on the mound from which the cry had issued.
The yell had been given by Junkie, who had been bitten or stung by
something, and who, under the combined influence of surprise, agony, and
wrath, had out-Junkied himself in the fervour and ferocity of his
indignant protest.
The poor child was not only horrified, but inconsolable. He wriggled
like an eel, and delivered a prolonged howl with intermittent bursts for
full half an hour, while his distracted nurse and mother almost tore the
garments off his back in their haste to discover the bite or the brute
that had done it.
"It _must_ have bin a serpent!" cried the nurse, agonising over a
knotted string.
"Perhaps a tarantula," suggested Gertie, who only clasped her hands and
looked horrified.
"Quick!" exclaimed Mrs Brook, breaking the unmanageable tape.
"Ze chile is growing black and vill bust!" murmured Scholtz in real
alarm.
It did seem as if there were some likelihood of such a catastrophe, for
Junkie's passion and struggles had rendered him blue in the face; but it
wes found that the bite or sting, whichever it was, had done little
apparent damage, and as the child cried himself out and sobbed himself
to sleep in half an hour without either blackening or bursting, the
various members of the family were relieved, and resumed their suspended
labours.
The shades of evening had fallen, and, among other orbs of night, the
stars of that much too highly complimented constellation, the "Southern
Cross," had for some time illumined the sky before these labours were
completed, and the wearied Brook family and household retired to rest,
with weapons ready at hand and fires blazing. Wild beasts--to whose
cries they were by that time accustomed--soon began their nightly
serenade and carried it on till morning, but they were not wild enough
to disturb the newcomers with anything more formidable than sound.
Next morning early, George Dally was the first to bestir himself. On
taking a general view of surrounding nature he observed a thin column of
smoke rising above the tree-tops in the direction of the stream or river
to which reference has already been made.
"Perhaps it's Kafirs," thought George.
Following up that thought he returned to what we may style his lair--the
place where he had spent the night--under a mimosa-bush, and there
girded himself with a belt containing a long knife. He further armed
himself with a fowling-piece. Thus accoutred he sallied forth with the
nonchalant air of a sportsman taking his pleasure. Going down to the
stream, and following its course upwards, he quickly came in sight of
the camp-fire whose smoke had attracted his attention. A tall man in
dishabille was bending over it, coaxing the flame to kindle some rather
green wood over which a large iron pot hung from a tripod. The fire was
in front of a large, but not deep, cavern, in the recesses of which
three slumbering figures were visible.
Drawing cautiously nearer, George discovered that the man at the fire
was John Skyd, and of course jumped to the conclusion that the three
slumbering figures were his brothers and friend. These enterprising
knights of the quill, having found what they deemed a suitable spot, had
selected a cave for their residence, as being at once ready and
economical.
Now, George Dally, being gifted with a reckless as well as humorous
disposition, suddenly conceived the idea of perpetrating a practical
joke. Perhaps Junkie's performances on the previous evening suggested
it. Flinging his cap on the ground, he ran his fingers through his
thick hair until it stood up in wild confusion, and then, deliberately
uttering a hideous and quite original war-whoop, he rushed furiously
towards the cave.
The brothers Skyd and company proved themselves equal to the occasion,
for they received him at the cavern mouth with the muzzles of four
double-barrelled guns, and a stern order to halt!