In the heart of the wild mountain scenery of the frontier a grim-looking
fort had been built to keep the Kafirs in check. It was named Fort
Wilshire, and a truly warlike place it was, with its high walls and
cannon, its red troops of the line, green rifles, and blue artillery.
Lying remote from civilised men, it was a dreary enough place to the
troops stationed there, though, with that ready spirit of adaptation to
circumstances which characterises the British soldier, the garrison
dispelled some of its _ennui_ by hunting.
At one period of the year, however, the little frontier fortress
thoroughly changed its silent and solitary character. The Government,
yielding at last to earnest entreaties and strong representations, had
agreed to permit, under certain restrictions, the opening of trade with
the Kafirs. A periodical "fair" was established and appointed to be
held under the guns of Fort Wilshire. The colonial traders, full of
energy and thirsting for opportunity, took advantage of the "fair," and
assembled in hundreds, while the Kafirs, in a species of unbelieving
surprise, met them in thousands to exchange wares. It was a new idea to
many of these black sons and daughters of nudity, that the horns which
they used to throw away as useless were in reality valuable merchandise,
and that the gum, which was to be had for the gathering, could procure
for them beads and buttons, and brass-wire and cotton, with many other
desirable things that caused their red mouths to water.
On the day in which we introduce the scene to the reader some of the
colonial traders had already arrived at the fair. These were not all of
the same calibre. Some, of small means, had commenced modestly with a
shoulder-bundle and went through the new land, as peddlers and packmen
in older lands had done before them. Others, with more means, had set
up the horse-pack, or the cart, and all aspired, while some had
attained, to the waggon. These penetrated to every part of the
frontier, supplying the Dutch boers with luxuries hitherto undreamed of,
which, ere long, became necessities, obtaining from them sheep and
cattle in exchange, with a fair proportion of their hoarded
_rix-daalers_. The traders then returned to the towns, sold their
stock, purchased fresh supplies, and went back to the interior. Thus
was laid the foundation of a commerce which was destined in future years
to become of great importance not only to the colony but to the world.
The opening of trade with the Kafirs had added materially to the
prosperity of the traders, and those assembled at Fort Wilshire
represented all the different classes.
Among the crowds who encamped under the fort guns, Stephen Orpin, the
Wesleyan, represented those who stood on the first round of the
mercantile ladder. Orpin was stout of limb, broad of shoulder, strong
of heart, and empty of pocket; he therefore carried a pack in which were
to be found not only gloves, neckerchiefs, and trinkets for the women,
as well as gaudy waistcoats, etcetera, for the men, but New Testaments,
tracts, and little books in the Dutch language wherewith Stephen hoped
to do good to the souls of his customers. Orpin had come to the "fair"
with the double view of trading and holding intercourse on spiritual
things with the Kafirs. He longed to preach Christ, the crucified
Saviour, to the heathen. Of such men, thank God, there always have
been, and we believe always will be, many in the world--men in regard to
whom bigots are apt to say, "Lord, forbid him, for he followeth not with
us," but of whom the Lord said, "Forbid him not, for he that is not
against us is on our part."
Among those who had attained to the enviable ox-waggon were our friends
John Skyd and Frank Dobson. Possessing a remnant of their means when
they gave up farming, two of the brothers, James and Robert, established
a small general store in Grahamstown, while John and Frank set up a
joint waggon and took to hunting and trading on a large scale. Of
course they bought all their supplies of brass-wire, beads and buttons,
powder and shot etcetera, from the Skyd store, and sold their ivory,
etcetera, at the same place, with mutual benefit.
It was a strange and stirring sight to behold the long files of Kafir
women, straight and graceful as Venus in body, ugly almost as baboons in
visage, coming to the fair from all parts of the land with enormous
loads on their heads of ox-hides, horns, gum, and elephants' tusks.
Threading the narrow bush-paths in long single files, they came from
hillside and thicket towards the great centre of attraction. Gradually
the crowd thickened. Kafir chiefs with leopard-skins thrown over their
otherwise naked bodies stalked about with an assumption of quiet dignity
which they found it difficult to maintain amid the excitement and
temptations of the fair. Swarthy groups found shelter among the trees
that fringed the Keiskamma below the post--the women resting after
having gladly laid down their burdens; their lords sitting on their
heels with knob-kerrie in hand, jealously guarding their property. The
great chief himself was there, laying seignorial taxation on his people,
and even condescending to _beg_ for the white man's brandy.
"Come with me," said Orpin to a newly made Dutch friend; "I'm told you
understand Kafir, and I want you to interpret for me. Will you?"
The Dutchman said "Ja," and went, for Orpin had a persuasive tongue and
pleasant manner which induced all sorts of men to aid him. And so they
two went down into the bush among the dark-skinned crew, and Stephen
preached in their wondering ears the "old, old story" of the Cross--a
story which is never told entirely in vain, though many a time it does
seem as if the effect of it were woefully disproportioned to the efforts
of those who go forth bearing the precious seed.
Meanwhile Skyd and Dobson were driving lucrative bargains in another
part of the field, speaking wonderful Kafir in the midst of a Babel of
Dutch and English that was eminently suggestive of the ancient "tower"
itself.
Besides the difficulties of language there were troubles also in
reference to trade, for Kafirs, although savage, are fastidious. The
men were as particular about their necklaces as any beau could be about
the cut of his coat and the women were at times very hard to please in
the matter of turban-covers and kaross back-stripes. But after much
haggling the contending parties came to terms, to their mutual benefit
and satisfaction.
In another part of the market there seemed to be a tendency to riot.
Either bargaining was more hotly carried on there, or spirits of a
pugnacious tendency were congregated. Among them was a tall powerful
Kafir, who had been evidently treated to a glass of something stronger
than water. He was not tipsy, he was only elevated, but the elevation
roused his ire to such an extent that he began to boast loudly that he
could fight _any_ one, and flourished his sticks or kerries in a defiant
manner. Kafirs always fight with two sticks, one to hit with, the other
to guard.
A trader from the Green Isle chanced to pass this man, and to be jostled
by him. Every one knows of the world's opinion of the Irishman's love
for fighting. Pat became nettled.
"Arrah!" says he, "yer mighty fond o' swagger, but I'll tache you
manners, you black baste! Come on!"
The big Kafir came on at once, and made a blow at Pat's head with his
knob-kerrie that would have ended the fight at once if it had taken
effect, but the Irishman, well trained in the art, guarded it neatly,
and returned with a blow so swift and vigorous that it fell on the pate
of the savage like a flail. As well might Pat have hit a rock. If
there is a strong point about a black man, it is his head. The Irish
man knew this, but had forgotten it in the first flush of combat. He
became wiser. Meanwhile a crowd of excited traders and Kafirs gathered
round the combatants and backed them.
The Kafir made another wild swoop at his enemy's skull, but the blow was
easily turned aside. Pat returned with a feint at his foe's head, but
came down with terrible force on the inside of his right knee. The
Kafir dropped his sticks, seized his knee with both hands, stood on one
leg, and howled in agony.
Scorning to strike a defenceless foe, Paddy gave him a dab on the end of
his already flat nose, by way of reminding him that he was off his
guard. The Kafir took the hint, caught up his sticks and sprang at his
opponent with the yell of a hyena, whirling aloft both sticks at once.
The Irishman had to leap aside, and, as he did so, drew from the Kafir a
shriek of pain by hitting him sharply on the left shin, adding to the
effect immediately by a whack under the right eye that might have
finished an average ox. The Kafir fell, more, however, because of the
pain of the double blow, than because of its force, for he rolled about
bellowing for a few seconds. Then, jumping up, he renewed the fight.
There is no saying how long it might have lasted had not a party of
troops chanced to pass just then, who separated the combatants and
dispersed the crowd.
The "fair," however, was made use of not only as an occasion for
trading, preaching, and fighting, but for plotting. Chiefs met there in
peace, who might otherwise have failed to meet except in battle, and
these, with chiefs of banditti from the mountains, and malcontents from
all quarters, concocted and hatched designs against the well-being of
individuals and of the public at large.
At this time the colonists, besides being troubled by savage thieves,
were threatened with disturbance from the inter-tribal feuds of the
savages themselves. One tremendous Zulu monster of the name of Chaka--
who excelled Nero himself in cruelty--was driving other tribes of Kafirs
down into the colony, and designing chiefs were beginning to think or
hope that the opportunity had arrived for carrying out their favourite
idea of driving the white man into the sea.
In a dark forest glade, not far from the fort, and within hearing of its
bugle-calls, Stephen Orpin walked up and down with one of the
malcontents.
"I tell you, Ruyter, it is in vain to join with the Kafirs," said Orpin.
"If all the Hottentots in Africa were to unite with them, you would not
be strong enough to crush the white man."
"Why not?" demanded the Hottentot angrily, in his broken English; "we be
strong as you, and brave."
"But you are not so well armed," said Orpin.
"Fact," returned the freebooter, "but time vill make dat all squaar.
Smugglers bring guns to we, an' pooder. Ver' soon be all right."
"Listen, Ruyter, you are like a child. You know nothing. The land from
which the white man comes will never suffer him to be driven out of
Africa. England is rich in everything, and will send men to fill the
places of those who fall. Besides, I think God is on the white man's
side, because the white man in the main intends and tries to do good.
Just think of the `fair.' The black man wants beads and brass wire and
cotton, and many other things--the white man brings these things from
over the sea. On the other hand the white man wants hides, horns,
ivory--the black man can supply these things. They meet to exchange,
good is done by each to the other. Why should they fight?"
"For revenge," said Ruyter darkly.
"No doubt revenge is sweet to you, but it is sinful," returned Orpin.
"Besides, the sweetness does not last long; and will it, let me ask,
make the black man happier or the white man more sorrowful in the
long-run? You should think of others, not only of yourself, Ruyter."
"Does Jan Smit ever tink of oders--of anybody but hisself?"
"Perhaps not, but Conrad Marais does, and so do many other men of like
mind. God, the Father of all men, is a God of peace, and does not
permit His children to gratify feelings of revenge. Jesus, the Saviour
of lost man, is the Prince of peace; He will not deliver those who
wilfully give way to revenge."
"I no want deliverance," said the robber chief sternly.
"I know that," replied Orpin, "and it was to deliver you from that state
of mind that Jesus came. Think, Ruyter, think--"
He was interrupted at this point by the sound of an approaching
ox-waggon. Ruyter, being a well-known outlaw, did not dare to show
himself at the fair, although not a whit worse in any respect than most
of the Kafir chiefs who walked openly there unchallenged. He shrank
back into the shelter of the jungle while the trader awaited the coming
up of the waggon.
"Aha, here you are, Orpin--not kept you waiting long, I hope?" said John
Skyd as he followed his waggon into the glade.
"Not long," answered the trader; "but we must make the most of our time
now, for the day is far spent."
"It is, but I could not manage to get away sooner. We had to lay in a
supply of powder and lead for the hunt, besides many other things.
Dobson will be here with the other waggon immediately--he's not fifty
yards behind,--and then we shall start fair for the elephant-ground.
You're quite sure that you know the way, I suppose?"
"I would not undertake to guide you if I were not sure."
In a few minutes Dobson came up with the second waggon, and the whole
party set forth on a hunting expedition into the interior, under the
guidance of Stephen Orpin, who had already wandered so much about the
colony that he was beginning to be pretty well acquainted with a great
extent of the border line.
About the same time that Skyd and Dobson went off to the interior
another party of hunters and explorers set out on an expedition from the
Scottish settlement of Glen Lynden. But before touching on this, we
will turn aside to relate an incident which affected the movements of
both parties, and has reference to a small though not unimportant
personage of our story.