Oh, they were happy times, these first days of the infant colony, when
every man felt himself to be a real Robinson Crusoe,--with the trifling
difference of being cast on heights of the mainland, instead of an islet
of the sea, and with the pleasant addition of kindred company!
So rich and lovely was their domain that some of the facetious spirits,
in looking about for sites for future dwellings, affected a rollicking
indifference to situations that would have been prized by any nobleman
in making choice of a spot for a shooting-box.
"Come now, McTavish," said Considine, on one of their exploring
expeditions, "you are too particular. Yonder is a spot that seems to
have been made on purpose for you--a green meadow for the cattle and
sheep, when you get 'em; stones scattered here and there, of a shape
that will suit admirably for building purposes without quarrying or
dressing; a clump of mimosa-trees to shelter your cottage from winds
that may blow down the valley, and a gentle green slope to break those
that blow up; a superb acacia standing by itself on a ready-made lawn
where your front door will be, under which you may have a rustic seat
and table to retire to at eventide with Mrs McTavish and lovely young
Jessie, to smoke your pipe and sip your tea."
"Or toddy," suggested Sandy Black.
"Or toddy," assented Considine.
"Besides all this, you have the river making a graceful bend in front of
your future drawing-room windows, and a vista of the valley away to the
left, with a rocky eminence on the right, whence baboons can descend to
rob your future orchard at night, and sit chuckling at you in safety
during the day, with a grand background of wooded gorges,--or corries,
as you Scotch have it, or kloofs, according to the boers--and a noble
range of snow-clad mountains to complete the picture!"
"Not a bad description for so young a man," said McTavish, surveying the
spot with a critical eye; "quite in our poetical leader's style. You
should go over it again in his hearing, and ask him to throw it into
verse."
"No; I cannot afford to give away the valuable produce of my brain. I
will keep and sell it some day in England. But our leader has already
forestalled me, I fear. He read to me something last night which he has
just composed, and which bears some resemblance to it. Listen:--
"`Now we raise the eye to range
O'er prospect wild, grotesque, and strange;
Sterile mountains, rough and steep,
That bound abrupt the valley deep,
Heaving to the clear blue sky
Their ribs of granite bare and dry.
And ridges, by the torrents worn,
Thinly streaked with scraggy thorn,
Which fringes Nature's savage dress,
Yet scarce relieves her nakedness.
But where the Vale winds deep
below,
The landscape hath a warmer glow
There the spekboom spreads its bowers
Of light green leaves and lilac flowers;
And the aloe rears her crimson crest,
Like stately queen for gala drest
And the bright-blossomed bean-tree shakes
Its coral tufts above the brakes,
Brilliant as the glancing plumes
Of sugar-birds among its blooms,
With the deep-green verdure blending
In the stream of light descending.'
"Something or other follows, I forget what, and then:--
"`With shattered rocks besprinkled o'er,
Behind ascends the mountain hoar,
Where the grin satyr-faced baboon
Sits gibbering to the rising moon,
Or chides with hoarse or angry cry
Th'intruder as he wanders by.'
"There--I can't remember the rest of it," said Considine, "and I'm not
even sure that what I've quoted is correct, but you see Mr Pringle's
mind has jumped before mine,--and higher."
"Man, it's no' that bad," observed Black, with emphasis. "Depend on't--
though I mak' nae pretence to the gift o' prophecy--he'll come oot as a
bard yet--the bard o' Glen Lynden maybe, or Sooth Afriky.--Hech, sirs!"
added Sandy, pointing with a look of surprise to a tree, many of the
pendent branches of which had peculiar round-shaped birds'-nests
attached to them, "what's goin' on there, think 'ee?"
The tree to which the Scot directed attention overhung the stream, and
down one of its branches a snake was seen twining itself with caution.
It evidently meant to rob one of the nests, for the little owner, with
some of its companions, was shrieking and fluttering round the would-be
robber. This kind of bird has been gifted with special wisdom to guard
its home from snakes. It forms the entrance to its pendent nest at the
bottom instead of the top, and hangs the nest itself at the extreme
point of the finest twigs, so that the snake is compelled to wriggle
downwards perpendicularly, and at last has to extend part of its body
past the nest, in order to be able to turn its head upwards into the
hole. Great, unquestionably, is a snake's capacity to hold on by its
tail, but this holding on as it were to next-to-nothing is usually too
much for it. While the explorers were watching, the snake turned its
head upwards for the final dive into the nest, but its coils slipped,
and it fell into the water amid triumphant shrieks from the little
birds. Nothing daunted, however, the snake swam ashore and made another
attempt--with the same result. Again it made the trial; a third time it
failed, and then, in evident disgust, went off to attack some easier
prey.
While Considine and his companions were thus out in search of good
localities on which to plant future homesteads, the greater part of the
settlers were engaged, at a spot which they had named Clifton, in
erecting temporary huts of the wattle-and-dab order. Mr Pringle
himself, with a bold fellow named Rennie, remained to guard the camp, as
they had reason to fear a surprise from Bushmen marauders, known at that
time to be roaming the neighbourhood. More than once the sentinels were
tempted to fire into a band of baboons, whom they not unnaturally
mistook for Bushmen!
Other parties were sent out to cut wood and reeds, which they had to
carry into camp, sometimes two or three miles, on their shoulders, while
some were despatched into the kloofs to hunt, provisions having by that
time grown scarce. Not being a sportsman himself, and not feeling sure
of the power of his men, who were at that time unaccustomed to the gun,
Mr Pringle wisely sent two of the party to the nearest station--about
forty miles distant--to inquire about a supply of provisions and a few
horses, which were expected from the Government-farm of Somerset.
The first hunting party sent out was not a select one, the people
generally being too eager about examining and determining their
immediate locations to care about sport. It consisted of young Rivers
and Jerry Goldboy. The former was appointed, or rather allowed, to go,
more because of his sporting enthusiasm than because of any evidence he
had yet given of his powers, and the latter merely because he desired to
go. For the same reason he was permitted to arm himself with his
blunderbuss. Rivers carried a heavy double-barrelled fowling-piece. He
was a stout active impulsive young fellow, with the look of a capable
Nimrod.
"You'd have been better with a fowling-piece, or even a Dutch roer,"
said Rivers, casting a doubtful look at the blunderbuss as they entered
the jungle and began to ascend one of the nearest subsidiary glens or
kloofs.
"Well now, sir," said Jerry respectfully, "I don't agree with you. A
man who goes a-shootin' with a fowlin'-piece or a Dutch gun must 'ave
some sort o' capacity for shootin'--mustn't 'e, sir?"
"Well, I suppose he must."
"W'ereas," continued Jerry, "a man who goes a-shootin' with a
blunderbuss don't require no such qualification--that's w'ere it is,
sir."
"D'you mean to say that you can't shoot?" asked Rivers, with a look of
surprise.
"No more, sir," replied Jerry with emphasis, "than the weathercock of a
Dutch Reformed Church. Of course I know 'ow to load--powder first, ball
or shot arterwards; it's usually gravel with me, that bein', so to
speak, 'andy and cheap. An' I knows w'ich end o' the piece to putt to
my shoulder, likewise 'ow to pull the trigger, but of more than that I'm
hinnocent as the babe unborn. Ah! you may laugh, sir, but after all I'm
a pretty sure shot. Indeed I seldom miss, because I putt in such a
'eavy charge, and the 'buss scatters so fearfully that it's all but
impossible to miss--unless you fairly turn your back on the game and
fires in the opposite direction."
"You're a pleasant hunting companion!" said Rivers. "Do you know the
importance of always keeping the muzzle of your gun _away_ from the
unfortunate fellow you chance to be shooting with?"
"Ho, yes, sir. The dangerous natur' of my weapon is so great that I've
adopted the plan of always walking, as you see, with what the milingtary
call `shouldered arms,' which endangers nothin' but the sky--includin'
the planetory system--except w'en I 'appens to fall, w'en, of course,
it's every man lookout for hisself. But there's one consolation for
you, sir,--my blunderbuss don't go off easy. It takes two pulls of the
trigger, mostly, to bring fire out o' the flint, and as I often forget
to prime--there's a third safeguard in that, so to speak."
Further converse was interrupted by the sudden bursting of a duiker, or
large antelope, from a thicket close beside them. Both sportsmen
levelled their pieces, but, the jungle there being dense, the animal
vanished before either could fire. With the eager haste of tyros,
however, they ran stumbling after it until they came to an open stretch
of ground which led them to the edge of a small plain. Here they
simultaneously discovered that no duiker was to be seen, though they
observed a troop of quaggas far out of range, and a hartebeest in the
distance. The former, observing them, kicked up their heels, and dashed
away into the mountains. The latter, a handsome creature, the size of
an average pony and fleet as a stag, bounded into the jungle.
"No use going after these," said Rivers, with a wistful gaze.
"No, sir,--none w'atever."
"Better keep to the jungle and be ready next time," said the young
sportsman. "We mustn't talk, Jerry."
"No, sir; mum's the word. But 'ow if we should meet with a lion?"
"Shoot it of course. But there is no such luck in store for us."
After this the hunters proceeded with greater caution. As they kept in
the thick bush, they frequently startled animals, which they heard
leaping up and bursting through the underwood, but seldom got a glimpse,
and never a shot.
"Tantalising, ain't it, sir?"
"Hush!"
They issued on another open space at this point, and, seeing a thick bed
of sedges near the margin of a stream, proceeded towards it, separating
from each other a few yards in order to cover the ground.
There was a sudden and violent shaking in the sedges on their approach,
as if some large animal had been aroused from sleep, but the tall reeds
prevented its being seen.
"Look out, Jerry, and keep more on the other side--there--Hallo!"
As he spoke, a creature called by the Dutch colonists a reit-vark, or
reed-swine, whose quick starts and sharp stoppages betrayed its
indecision, at length made up its mind and rushed out of the reeds in
wild alarm close to Rivers, who, although ready, was incapable of
restraining himself, and fired in haste. The ball nevertheless slightly
grazed the animal's side.
With a shriek of intense agony, such as only a brute of the porcine
tribe can utter, the reit-vark swerved aside and ran straight, though
unintentionally, at Jerry Goldboy.
Self-control not being Jerry's forte, he uttered a great cry, presented
the blunderbuss with both hands, shut his eyes, and fired. The butt of
his piece came back on his chest and floored him, and the half-pound of
gravel charge went into the forehead of the reit-vark, which dropped
with a final groan, whose clear import was--"no earthly use in
struggling after _that_!" Recovering himself, Jerry was jubilant over
his success. Rivers was almost envious.
They proceeded, but killed nothing more afterwards, though they saw
much. Among other things, they saw a footprint in the sand which filled
them with interest and awe.
It was that of a lion! During the journey up from the coast they had
seen much game, large and small, of every kind, except the Cape "tiger"
and the lion. They had indeed, once or twice, _heard_ the peculiar
growl or _gurr_ of the former, but until this day none of the party had
seen even the footprint of the king of beasts. Of course the interest
and excitement was proportional. Of course, also, when the subject was
discussed round the camp-fires that night, there was a good deal of
"chaffing" among the younger men about the probability of a mistake as
to the nature of the footprints by such unaccustomed sportsmen; but
Rivers was so confident in his statements, and Jerry was so contemptuous
in his manner of demanding whether there was any difference between the
paw of a cat and a lion, except in size, and whether he was not
perfectly familiar with a cat's paw, that no room for scepticism
remained.
It had been a threatening day. Muttered thunder had been heard at
intervals, and occasional showers,--the first that had assailed them
since their arrival in the glen. The night became tempestuous, cold,
and very dark, so that soon all were glad to seek the shelter of the
tents or of the half-finished wattle-and-dab huts, except the sentinels.
Of these, two were appointed for every watch. Masters and servants
shared this disagreeable duty equally. Particularly disagreeable it was
that night, for the rain came down in such torrents that it was
difficult to keep the fires alight despite a good supply of firewood.
About midnight the sleeping camp was aroused by the roar of a lion close
to the tents. It was so loud and so tremendous that some of the
sleepy-heads thought for a moment a thunderstorm had burst upon them.
Every one was up in a second--the men with guns, pistols, swords, and
knives. There was no mistaking the _expression_ of the roar--the voice
of fury as well as of power.
"Whereaboots is the brute?" cried Sandy Black, who, roused to unwonted
excitement by the royal voice, issued from his tent in a red nightcap
and drawers, with a gun in one hand and a carving-knife in the other.
"Here!" "There!" "In this direction!" "No, it isn't!" "I say it is!"
and similar exclamations, burst from every one. The uncertainty was
probably occasioned partly by the mode the animal has of sometimes
putting his mouth close to the ground when he roars, so that the voice
rolls along like a billow; partly also by the echo from a mountain-rock
which rose abruptly on the opposite bank of the river. Finding it
impossible to decide the question of direction, the party fired volleys
and threw firebrands in all directions, and this they did with such
vigour that his kingship retired without uttering another sound.
It was a grand, a royal, almost a humorous mode of breaking a spell--the
spell of unbelief in lions,--which some of the party had been under up
to that moment. They remained under it no longer!
As if to confirm and fix the impression thus made, this lion,--or
another,--gave some of the party a daylight interview. George Rennie,
McTavish, Considine, Black, and others, had gone up the river to cut
reeds in the bed of the stream. While they were busily engaged with
their sickles, up rose a majestic lion in their very midst!
"Preserve us a'!" exclaimed Black, who was nearest to him.
Jerry Goldboy turned to seize his blunderbuss. The lion leaped upon the
bank of the river, turned round and gazed upon the men.
"Let go!" exclaimed Jerry in a hoarse whisper, endeavouring to shake off
the vice-like grip that Black had laid on his arm.
"Keep quiet, man," growled Black sternly.
The rest of the party were wise enough not to interfere with the lion.
They were at that time inexperienced. To have wounded him would have
brought disaster, perhaps death, on some of them. George Rennie (who
afterwards became a celebrated lion-hunter) was emphatic in advising
caution. After gazing in quiet surprise on the intruders for a minute
or so, he turned and retired; first slowly, and then, after getting some
distance off, at a good round trot.
This was the first sight they had of the royal beast. Afterwards,
during the winter and spring, they had frequent visits from lions, but
did not suffer actual damage from them. They also, in course of time,
dared to "beard the lion in his den,"--but of that more anon.
The labour of the settlers at this time--before oxen and horses were
procured--was very severe. Of course this had the effect of weeding the
little company of some of its chaff in the shape of lazy and
discontented men. One said that he "had not been engaged to work by
day, and watch by night, as well as living in constant fear of being
scalped by savages or devoured by wild beasts." The observation being
true and unanswerable, he was "graciously permitted to retire from the
service," and returned to Algoa Bay. But on the whole there was little
murmuring, and no rebellion. By degrees difficulties were smoothed
down. A squatter on one of the forfeited farms, about eight miles off,
who with his family lived solely on flesh and milk, was engaged to lend
a hand with his waggon and oxen to "flit" the families to their various
locations. He also sold the settlers a few sheep. In time, more sheep
and oxen were purchased from the Dutch farmers on the Tarka, a river on
the other side of the mountains. Hottentots came from Somerset with
flour. Thatched huts replaced the tents. A few horses were obtained.
Gardens were cleared and enclosed. Trenches for irrigation were cut.
Trees were rooted out, and ploughs were set to work. Ten armed
Hottentots were sent by the magistrates of the district to which they
belonged, to guard and relieve them of night-watches, and with these
came the news that ten of their friend Opperman's cattle, and seven
belonging to their neighbour the squatter, had been carried off by
Bushmen.
At this point Sandy Black aroused the admiration of the ten Hottentots
by setting to work one morning in September--the beginning of spring in
South Africa--with a Scotch plough, which was guided entirely by himself
and drawn by only two oxen. His dark-skinned admirers had never seen
any other plough than the enormous unwieldy implement then in use among
the Dutch, which had only one handle, no coulter, was usually drawn by
ten or twelve oxen, and managed by three or four men and boys.
By degrees those of the party who were good linguists began to pick up
Dutch. Mr Pringle, especially, soon became familiar enough with it to
be able to hold a Dutch service on Sundays, in addition to the English,
for the benefit of the Hottentot guards. He also added a slight
knowledge of medicine to his other qualifications, and was thus enabled
to minister to the wants of body and soul, at a time when the people had
no regular physician or professional minister of the Gospel.
The arrival of horses gave the settlers opportunities of making more
extended and more thorough explorations of their own domain, and the
daily routine of life was varied and enlivened by an occasional visit
from the Tarka boers, whom they found good-natured and hospitable--also
very shrewd at a bargain!
Thus they took root and began to grow.
But before many of these things occurred Hans Marais came over the
mountains, according to promise, and "Professor" Considine was fain to
bid the Scotch settlers farewell, promising, however, to return and
visit them on some future day.