TREATS OF HOPES, FEARS, AND PROSPECTS, BESIDES DESCRIBING A PECULIAR
BATTLE.
Mounted on a pair of sturdy ponies Hans Marais and Charlie Considine
galloped over the plains of the Zuurveld in the direction of
Grahamstown. The brothers Skyd had preceded them, Edwin Brook was to
follow.
It was a glorious day, though this was nothing unusual in that sunny
clime, and the spirits of the young men were high. Excitement has a
tendency to reproduce itself. Hans and his friend did not feel
particularly or personally interested in the arrival of the Royal
Commissioners, but they were sympathetic, and could not resist
surrounding influences. Everywhere they overtook or passed, or somehow
met with, cavaliers on the road--middle-aged and young--for old men were
not numerous there at that time--all hastening to the same goal, the
"city of the settlers," and all had the same tale to tell, the same
hopes to express. "Things are going to be put right now. The
Commissioners have full powers to inquire and to act. We court
investigation. The sky is brightening at last; the sun of prosperity
will rise in the `east' ere long!"
In Grahamstown itself the bustle and excitement culminated. Friends
from the country were naturally stirred by meeting each other there,
besides being additionally affected by the object of the meeting.
Crowds gathered in the chief places of the fast rising town to discuss
grievances, and friends met in the houses of friends to do the same and
draw up petitions.
At last the Commissioners arrived and were welcomed by the people with
wild enthusiasm.
Abel Slingsby, an impulsive youth, and a friend of Hans Marais, who had
just been married to a pretty neighbour of Hans in the karroo, and was
in Grahamstown on his honeymoon, declared that he would, without a
moment's hesitation, throw up his farm and emigrate to Brazil, if things
were not put right without delay.
"No, you wouldn't," said his pretty bride, with an arch look; "you'd
take time to think well over it and consult with me first."
"Right, Lizzie, right; so I would," cried Slingsby, with a laugh. "But
you must admit that we have had, and still have, great provocation.
Just think," he added, with returning indignation, "of free-born British
subjects being allowed no newspaper to read except one that is first
revised by a jealous, despotic Governor, and of our being obliged to
procure a `pass' to entitle us to go about the country, as if we were
Kafirs or Hottentots--to say nothing of the insolence of the
Jacks-in-office who grant such `passes,' or the ridiculous laws
regarding the natives--bah! I have no patience to recount our wrongs--
Come, Hans, let's go out and see what's doing; and don't forget, Liz, to
have candles ready for the illumination, and tell the Tottie to clean my
gun. I must be ready to do them honour, like other loyal subjects."
The young men sallied forth and found that the Commissioners had been
received by the authorities with sullen courtesy.
"A clear sign that the authorities know themselves to be in the wrong,"
said Considine, "for honest men always court open investigation."
"This attitude looks like rebellion against the British Government on
the part of the colonial authorities," said Hans. "I shouldn't wonder
if we were to get a surprise from them while in such a mood."
Evening drew on apace, and crowds of people moved about to witness the
illumination and other evidences of rejoicing, while some of the more
enthusiastic sought to express their sentiments by firing a volley with
small arms. According to an eye-witness, [see Note 1] the signal was
taken up at once, and, the example spreading like wildfire, the hills
soon resounded on all sides with a noise that might have been mistaken
for the storming of the town. This was a demonstration the authorities
could not brook. The necessary orders were given and soon the bugles of
the garrison sounded the assembly at Scott's Barracks, while the
trumpets of the Mounted Rifles at Fort England sent squadrons of horse
thundering up Bathurst Street to assist in the terrible emergency caused
by blank cartridges and joyous hurrahs! Parties of infantry patrolled
the streets, making prisoners in all directions, and the people
assembled in Church Square to see the illuminations were surrounded by
troops. The leading men there, foreseeing the advantage that would
result so their cause by such a style of repressing public opinion,
advised those around them to keep quiet and be true to their principles.
Hans Marais and his friends happened to be in Church Square at the time,
and at once fell in with and acted on the peaceful advice, though the
impulsive Slingsby found it difficult to restrain his British spirit.
"See," he said, pointing to a gentleman who approached, "there goes the
Reverend Mr Geary. Do you know him, Hans? He's a man of the true
sort. Let me tell you in your ear that I heard he has got into bad
odour in high quarters for refusing to have anything to do with a
`proscription list' furnished by the Governor, which contains the names
of persons who are to be shunned and narrowly watched--some of these
persons being the best and most loyal in the colony."
As he spoke the clergyman referred to was stopped by a friend, and they
overheard him express much gratification at the arrival of the
Commissioners, and a hope that abuses would soon be reformed, at the
same time stating his determination not to be a party man.
Unfortunately for the clergyman there were minions of the Government
within earshot at the time. His words were reported, and, shortly
afterwards, he was summarily removed.
Just then some of the Cape Corps men charged part of the crowd and
scattered it. At the same time various persons were arrested. Among
these was the indignant Slingsby. Unable to restrain his ire he called
out "Shame!" and was instantly pounced upon by a serjeant and party of
infantry. Immediately becoming sensible of his folly, after a momentary
struggle he suffered himself to be led quietly away, but looked over his
shoulder as he was marched off to the "tronk," and said hurriedly--
"Console Lizzie, Hans!"
With a look of sympathy, Hans assured his friend that he would do so,
without fail, and then, with Considine, proceeded to the house where
poor Lizzie had already lit up the windows and got the gun in readiness.
"They dare not keep him long," said Hans, in his vain attempts to
comfort the weeping bride, "and depend upon it that the conduct of the
authorities this evening will go a long way to damage their own cause
and advance that of the settlers."
Hans was right. Slingsby was liberated the following morning. The
Commissioners turned out to be able men, who were not to be hoodwinked.
True, a considerable period elapsed before the "report" afterwards made
by them took effect, and for some time the settlers continued to suffer;
but in the following year the fruits of the visit began to appear.
Among other improvements was the creation of a Council to advise and
assist the Governor--consisting of seven members, including himself,--
whereby a wholesome check was put upon his arbitrary power. Trial by
jury was also introduced, and the power of magistrates was modified.
These and other more or less beneficial changes took place, so that
there was reason to believe a time of real prosperity had at length
dawned.
But the settlers were not yet out of the furnace.
Providence saw fit to send other troubles to try them besides unjust and
foolish men in power. There was still another plague in store.
One day Charlie Considine rode towards the farm which had now for
several years been his home.
The young members of the Marais family had grown learned under his care,
and he was now regarded as a son by old Marais and his wife, while the
children looked on him as an elder brother. Charlie had not intended to
stay so long, and sometimes his conscience reproved him for having given
up his profession of medicine, but the longer he stayed with those
sweet-tempered Dutch-African farmers with whom his lot had been cast the
more he liked them, and the more they liked him. What more natural then
that he should stay on from day to day, until he became almost one of
themselves? When people are happy they desire no change.
But it must not be supposed that the youth's office was a sinecure. The
young Marais were numerous, and some of them were stupid,--though
amiable. The trouble caused by these, however, was more than
compensated by the brightness of others, the friendship of Hans, and the
sunshine of Bertha. The last by the way, had now, like Gertrude Brook,
sprung into a woman, and though neither so graceful nor so sprightly as
the pretty English girl, she was pre-eminently sweet and lovable.
Well, one day, as we have said, Charlie Considine rode towards the farm.
He had been out hunting alone, and a springbok tied across the horse
behind him showed that he had been successful.
Rousing himself from a reverie, he suddenly found himself in the midst
of a scene of surpassing beauty. In front lay a quiet pond, whose
surface was so still that it might have been a sheet of clear glass. On
his left the familiar mountain-range beyond the farm appeared bluer and
nearer than usual, owing to the intense heat. To the right the
undulating karroo, covered with wild-flowers, and dotted with clumps of
mimosa-bush, terminated abruptly in a lake which stretched away, in some
places like a sea, to the horizon. Islands innumerable studded the
smooth surface of this lake, and were reflected in its crystal depths.
Not a breath of air riffled its surface, and there was a warm sunny
brightness, a stillness, a deep quietude, about the whole scene which
were powerfully suggestive of heavenly peace and rest.
"Glorious!" exclaimed Considine, reining up to a walking pace. "_How_
delicious while it lasts, and yet how evanescent! Does it not resemble
my life here? _That_ cannot last."
Charlie was not given to moralising, but somehow he could not help it
that day. With an unusually profound sigh he shook the reins and
cantered towards the lake. It was not the first time he had seen it,
and he knew full well that it would not bar his progress. Even as he
gave vent to the sigh the glassy waters trembled, undulated, retreated,
and, under the influence of a puff of air, slowly melted away, leaving
the waterless karroo in its place.
Truly it is no wonder that thirsty travellers in African deserts have,
from time immemorial, rushed towards these phantom waters of the
well-known _mirage_, to meet with bitter disappointment! The
resemblance is so perfect that any one might be deceived if unacquainted
with the phenomenon. [See note 2.]
On coming within sight of the farm, Considine observed columns of thick
smoke rising from various parts of the homestead. With a vague feeling
of alarm he put spurs to his horse. Drawing quickly nearer he perceived
that the smoke arose from the garden, and that the people seemed to be
bustling about in a state of violent activity. Stretching out at full
speed, he was soon at the garden gate, and found that all the bustle,
energising, and shouting went on at the end farthest from the gate. As
he threw the reins over a post and sprang in he could see through the
trees that every one in the establishment was engaged in a wild frantic
fight, in which sticks and stones, bushes and blankets, were used
indiscriminately. The smoke that rose around suggested fire on the
plains, and he ran in haste to render assistance.
It was a goodly garden that he passed through. Fruit-trees of every
kind were so laden with golden treasures that many of the branches,
unable to bear the strain, had given way and the superabundance trailed
upon the earth. Vegetables of all kinds covered the borders with
luscious-looking bulbs and delicious green leaves, while grapes,
currants, figs, etcetera, half smothered their respective bushes.
Through this rich display of plenty Considine dashed, and, on reaching
the wall at the further end, found Conrad Marais with his wife and
daughter, sons, servants, and slaves, engaged in furious conflict with--
locusts!
The enemy had come on them suddenly and in force. The ground was alive
with them. Armies, legions, were there--not full-grown flying locusts,
but young ones, styled foot-gangers, in other words, crawlers, walkers,
or hoppers,--and every soul in the establishment had turned out to
fight.
Even the modest Bertha was there, defending a breach in the garden wall
with a big shawl, dishevelled in dress and hair, flushed in face, bold
and resolute in aspect, laying about her with the vigour of an Amazon.
The usually phlegmatic Conrad defended another weak point, while his at
other times amiable spouse stood near him making fearful and frequent
raids upon the foe with the branch of of a thorn-tree. Hans, like
Gulliver among the Lilliputs, guarded a gate in company with four of his
brothers, and they toiled and moiled like heroes, while perspiration
rolled in streams from their blazing faces. Elsewhere men and women,
boys and girls--black, brown, and yellow--exerted themselves to the
uttermost.
Never was fortress more gallantly defended, never were ramparts more
courageously assailed. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, were
slain under that garden wall--hundreds of thousands, millions, hopped
over their comrades' backs and continued the assault with unconquerable
pluck. The heroes of ancient Greece and Rome were nothing to them.
Horses, cattle, and sheep were driven in among them and made to prance
wildly, not in the hope of destroying the foe--as well might you have
attempted to blot out the milky way,--but for the purpose of stemming
the torrent and turning, if possible, the leading battalions aside from
the garden. They would not turn aside. "On, hoppers, on--straight on!"
was their watchword. "Death or victory" must have been their motto!
At one spot was a hollow trench or dry ditch leading towards an outhouse
which intervened between the locusts and the garden. No storming party
was detailed to carry the point. Where the numbers were so vast as to
cover the whole country, that was needless. They marched in columns,
and the columns that chanced to come up to the point voluntarily and
promptly undertook the duty. They swarmed into the ditch. Considine
and a small Hottentot boy observed the move, and with admirable skill
kept the advancing column in check until a fire was kindled in the
ditch. It was roused to a pitch of fierce heat that would have
satisfied Nebuchadnezzar himself, and was then left, for other points of
danger in the walls claimed more vigorous attention. Onward hopped and
crawled the enemy and stormed the fire. The leading files were roasted
alive, those following tumbled over their dead bodies into the flames.
Had the rest wished to take warning by the fate of their comrades--which
they did not--they would have found it impossible to escape, for those
behind pushed them on. The fire was filled with the dead, overwhelmed
by the dying, fairly put out by both, and the victorious army marched
over in triumph. Then the outhouse met them, but they scorned to turn
aside, although there was a four foot wall, which one might have
supposed more practicable. They walked straight up the outhouse and
over it, and were triumphantly descending the other side in myriads
before they were discovered and met, with shrieks of vengeance, by Mrs
Marais.
"It's of no use, lads," gasped old Marais, pausing for a moment to
recover breath; "the place is doomed."
"Don't say so, father," cried Hans.--"Come on, boys! we've nearly
stopped them at this gate."
Nearly,--but not quite! A few minutes later and the strength of the
garrison began to fail.
"How long--has this--lasted?" asked Considine, pausing for a moment
beside Bertha, and panting violently.
"Since--breakfast," gasped the exhausted girl; "we--dis--covered them--
just after you--left us.--See! they come!"
"Hallo! this way, Hans! bring the flags!" shouted Considine, observing
the tremendous body of reserves which were following up the success of
the stormers of the fire.
It is a curious fact that the waving of flags had been found of more
avail on that occasion than most other means. The beating of the enemy
with bushes and blankets was no doubt very effective, but it killed,
scattered, and confused them, so that they pressed, as it were blindly,
on their fate, whereas the flag-waving appeared to touch a cord of
intelligence. They saw it, were obviously affected though not killed by
it, and showed a tendency to turn aside. It was however only a
tendency; soon the advance was resumed in force. The human giants were
beaten--fairly overwhelmed. The wall was scaled and the garden finally
entered by countless myriads of this truly formidable though
individually contemptible enemy.
Thus are the strong at times confounded by things that are weak!
Had these been flying instead of pedestrian locusts they might, perhaps,
have been turned aside by fires, for this is sometimes done. When a
farmer sees a cloud of them coming--a cloud, it may be, of three miles
in length by half a mile in breadth or more--he kindles fires round his
garden and fields, raises a dense smoke, and may sometimes, though not
often, succeed in preventing them from alighting. But the younger or
jumping locusts, strong in the stupidity of youth, cannot be turned
aside thus. Nothing, indeed, but a rushing stream will stop them; even
a mighty river, if not rapid, is insufficient. Stagnant pools they
cross by drowning the leading multitudes, until a bridge--not "of
sighs," but--of death is formed, of size sufficient to carry them over.
They even cross the great Orange River thus in places where its flow is
calm. In Africa they pass in such countless swarms, both winged and
wingless, that their approach is viewed with dismay, for where they rest
they devour every green thing, and flocks and herds are left utterly
destitute, so that starvation or change of ground is unavoidable. They
usually begin their march, or flight, after sunrise, and encamp at
sunset--and woe betide the luckless farmer on whose lands they chance to
fix their temporary abode.
Locust-swarms are followed by a little bird--named _springkaan-vogel_ or
locust-bird--which comes in such dense flocks as almost to darken the
air. These locust-birds are about the size of a swallow, with numerous
speckles like a starling. They live exclusively on locusts--follow
them, build their nests, rear their young in the midst of them, and
devour them. But this is by no means the locust's only enemy. Every
animal, domestic and wild, destroys and eats him. Cattle, sheep,
horses, fowls, dogs, antelopes--all may be seen devouring him with
greediness. He even eats himself, the cannibal! for if any of his
comrades get hurt or meet with accidents in travelling, as they often
do, the nearest fellow-travellers fall on, kill and devour the
unfortunates without delay.
The only human beings who rejoice at sight of the terrible locusts are
the Bushmen. These have neither herds, flocks nor crops to lose, and
though the wild animals on which they subsist are by these insects
driven away, the Bushmen care little, for they delight in fresh locusts,
follow them up, feed on them, and preserve quantities by drying them for
future use.
Before morning the splendid garden of Conrad Marais was a leafless,
fruitless wilderness. Not a scrap of green or gold was left. And his
case was by no means singular. The whole colony was more or less
visited by this plague at that time, and thus the reviving spirits of
the settlers were once again knocked down by a crushing blow.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. Reverend A.A. Dugmore, _the Reminiscences of an Albany
Settler_, page 23.
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Note 2. The author, having seen the mirage while riding on the karroo,
writes from personal experience.