"Afar in the desert,"--far beyond the frontier settlements of the
colony, far from the influences of civilisation, in the home of the wild
beast and the savage, the explorers now ride under the blaze of the
noontide sun.
They had passed over mountain and dale into the burning plains of the
karroo, and for many hours had travelled without water or shelter from
the scorching heat. Lucas Van Dyk, who guided them, said he knew where
water was to be got, but there was no possibility of reaching it before
evening. This announcement was received in silence, for not a drop of
the life-giving fluid had passed the lips of man or beast since an early
hour on the previous day, and their powers of endurance were being tried
severely. The insupportable heat not only increased the thirst, but
rendered the hunters less able to bear it. All round them the air
quivered with the radiation from the glaring sand, and occasionally the
_mirage_ appeared with its delicious prospects of relief, but as the
Dutchmen knew the ground well, none were deceived by it, though all were
tantalised. Compressing their lips, and urging their wearied cattle to
the utmost, they pushed steadily on, no sound breaking the stillness of
the desert save the creak of a waggon-wheel or the groan of an exhausted
animal.
At last Charlie Considine sought to relieve his feelings by
conversation.
"This is one of the unpleasant experiences of African travel."
Hans Marais, to whom the remark was made, replied "Ja," but as he added
nothing more, and looked stern, Charlie relapsed into silence.
Ere long one of the weaker oxen fell. The party halted a few minutes,
while the Hottentot drivers plied their cruel whips unmercifully, but in
vain. One more merciful than the drivers was there--death came to
release the poor animal. Immediately, as if by magic, vultures appeared
in the burning sky. From the far-off horizon they came sailing by twos
and threes, as if some invisible messenger, like death himself, had gone
with lightning-speed to tell that a banquet awaited them.
No time was wasted; a brief word from the leader sufficed. The dying ox
was released from the yoke that had galled it so long, and the party
proceeded. Before they were a mile off the ox was dead, its eyes were
out, its carcass torn open, and the obscene birds were gorging
themselves. Before night it was an empty skeleton covered with a dried
hide! Not many hours would suffice to remove the hide and leave only
the bleaching bones. Such remains are familiar objects on South African
roadsides.
That evening, according to their leader's prophecy, water was reached.
It was a thick muddy pool, but it sufficed to relieve them all, and a
night of comparative comfort followed a day of suffering.
Next morning, just after breakfast, a herd of springboks was observed,
and several of the more eager of the party dashed off in pursuit. Among
these was Considine, Hans, Andrew Rivers, and Jerry Goldboy. The two
last were always first in the mad pursuit of game, and caused their
placid Dutch friends no little anxiety by the scrapes they frequently
ran themselves into.
"Follow them, they'll get lost," said Van Dyk to a group of Hottentots.
Two of these, Slinger and Dikkop, obeyed the order.
The antelopes were on a distant sandhill in the plain. There were two
groups of them. Riven and Jerry made for one of these. Becoming
suddenly imbued with an idea worthy of a hunter, Jerry diverged to the
right, intending to allow his companion to start the game, while he
should lie in wait for it under the shelter of a bush. Unfortunately
the game took the opposite direction when started, so that Jerry was
thrown entirely out. As it chanced, however, this did not matter much,
for Jerry's horse, becoming unmanageable, took to its heels and dashed
away wildly over the plain, followed by Dikkop the Hottentot.
"Mind the ant-bear holes!" shouted Dikkop, but as he shouted in Dutch
Jerry did not understand him, and devoted himself to vain endeavours to
restrain the horse. At first the animal looked after itself and avoided
the holes referred to, but as Jerry kept tugging furiously at the reins
it became reckless, and finally put a fore-leg into a hole. Instantly
it rolled over, and the hunter flew off its back, turning a complete
somersault in the air.
A low shrub grows in the karroo, called the ill-tempered thorn. It
resembles a mass of miniature porcupine quills, an inch or two in
length, planted as thickly as possible together, with the needle-points
up and bristling. On one of these shrubs poor Jerry alighted!
"Oh! 'eavens, this is hagony!" he groaned, jumping up and stamping,
while Dikkop almost fell off his horse with laughing.
To hide his mirth he bolted off in pursuit of Jerry's charger, which he
soon caught and brought back, looking supernaturally grave.
"We will rejoin the 'unters, Dikkop," said Jerry, in the tone of a man
who endeavours to conceal his sufferings.
"Ja, Mynheer," said Dikkop.
Whatever Jerry Goldboy might have said, that Hottentot would have
replied "Ja, Mynheer," for he understood not a word of English.
Jerry mounted with an ill-suppressed groan and rode back to the party,
leaning very much forward in the saddle, while Dikkop followed, showing
the white teeth in his dirty black visage from ear to ear.
Rivers soon afterwards returned with a springbok behind him, but there
was no appearance of Considine or Hans. As, however, the latter was
known to be an experienced traveller, no anxiety was felt for them, and
the main party proceeded on its way. When night came they found that a
well, on which they had counted, was dried up, and were therefore
obliged to lie down without water. Several shots were fired after dark
to guide the absent ones, but no reply was made. Still, those in camp
felt no anxiety, knowing that Hans was quite able to take care of
himself.
And so he was, truly, but he could not take care of a hot-headed youth
who was as eager as Jerry in the chase, and much more daring.
At first he and Considine ran together after the springboks; then Hans
got near enough, dismounted, and shot one. While he was busy fastening
the carcass on his horse, Considine continued to pursue the others;
going at full speed, he was soon far away on the horizon. Still Hans
would have been able to see him if he had not got among some scattered
groups of mimosa-bushes, which were sufficiently large to conceal him.
When he remounted and looked around, his friend was not to be seen. He
saw a few springboks, however, racing on the horizon in the direction in
which Considine had galloped, and concluded somewhat hastily that they
were pursued by his friend. Away he went, therefore, but soon
discovered that he was mistaken. He turned then, and rode quickly back,
blaming himself for not having followed the footprints of his friend's
horse. This he now did, and at last came up with him, but at so late an
hour, and at such a distance from the line of march, that a bivouac in
the plain was inevitable.
"Oh, Hans," he said, "I'm so glad you've found me! I had no idea that
one could get so easily lost in an open plain."
"You've had enough experience too, one would think, to have remembered
the vastness of the karroo," said Hans, dismounting and making the
fastenings of the springbok more secure, "A man soon dwindles to the
size of a crow in plains like this, when you gallop away from him. Men
not accustomed to them misjudge distances and sizes in a wonderful way.
I remember once being out hunting with a fellow who mistook a waggon for
a springbok!--But come, mount; we must ride on to a better camping-place
than this, and be content to sleep without blankets to-night."
"I hope the camping-place is not far off, for I'm parched with thirst,"
said Considine, mounting and following at a smart gallop.
"I'm sorry for you," returned Hans, "for you'll see no water this night.
To-morrow we'll start early and get to the waggons by breakfast-time."
This was depressing news to Considine, for the heat of the day and
exertions of the chase had, as he expressed it, almost dried him up.
There was nothing for it, however, but patience.
About sunset they came to a place where were some old deserted huts. In
one of these they resolved to pass the night, though, from certain holes
in the side, it was evidently used at times as an abode by beasts of
prey. Having flint and steel, they made a fire, and while thus engaged
were serenaded by the distant and dolorous howls of a hyena and the
inharmonious jabberings of a jackal.
"Pleasant company!" observed Considine as he roasted a steak over the
fire.
"Ja," replied Hans, who, being a more expert cook, was already busy with
a rib.
The melancholy hoot of an owl seemed to indicate that the animal kingdom
agreed with the sentiment, and the young men laughed. They were not,
however, disposed to talk much. After a silent supper they lay down and
slept soundly, quite oblivious of the prowlers of the night, who came,
more than once, near to the door of the hut.
It was late next day when they awoke. Hans likewise missed his way, and
though he afterwards discovered his mistake, they found it impossible to
regain the track of their companions before sunset. All that day they
were compelled to travel without tasting a drop of water, and their poor
horses became so fatigued as to be scarcely equal to more than a walking
pace. As Hans knew that water was not far off, he pushed on after
sunset, so as to have the shorter distance to travel to it in the
morning.
"It is very tantalising," he said, drawing rein when the darkness of the
night rendered travelling almost impossible, "to know that our friends
cannot be far off, and yet be unable to reach them."
"Hadn't we better fire a shot?" asked Considine.
"Not of much use, I fear, but there can be no harm in trying."
The shot was fired and was instantly replied to by a tremendous roar
from a lion, apparently close to where they stood. No wood was near
them to make a fire, nothing but tufts of grass; they therefore pushed
on towards a range of dark mountains as fast as their jaded steeds would
go.
"Halt a moment," said Hans in a low voice.
They stopped and listened. The approach of the lion in rear was
distinctly heard.
"We cannot escape from him, Charlie," said Hans, as they again urged
their horses onward, "and in the dark we cannot take aim at him. Our
only chance is to reach yonder pass or glen that looms like a black
cleft in the hills, and clamber up some precipice, whence we can pelt
him with stones."
He spoke in quick, earnest tones. They soon entered the gorge and were
greeted by the grunt of a baboon and the squalling of its young ones,
which helped to increase the savage aspect of the towering cliffs on
either side. They had not proceeded far when the lion gave another
tremendous roar, which, echoing from cliff to cliff, gave the luckless
hunters the feeling of having got into the very heart of a lion's den.
No suitable place to scramble up being found, they pushed madly on over
a track of sand and bushes, expecting every instant to see the monster
bound upon them. But the defile was shorter than Hans had supposed. On
issuing from it they were cheered by the moon rising bright in the east,
and found that their enemy had ceased to follow them at that point.
Still, though weary, and with their tongues cleaving to the roofs of
their mouths, they continued their march for several hours, and lying
down at last, they scarcely knew how or there, they went to sleep with a
prayer for protection and deliverance on their parched lips.
The weary wanderers passed that night in a very paradise, bathing in
cool streams and slaking their thirst nearly, but never _quite_, to the
full. There was always a peculiar desire to drink again, and, even
then, to wish for more! Heavenly music, too, sounded in their ears, and
the sweet shade of green trees sheltered them.
It was daybreak when they were roused from these delights by a hyena's
howl, and awoke to find that they were speechless with thirst, their
eyes inflamed, and their whole frames burning.
Saddling the horses at once, they rode forward, and in a couple of hours
reached a hill near the top of which there was a projecting rock.
"Don't let me raise your hopes too high," said Hans, pointing to the
rock, "but it is just possible that we may find water _there_."
"God grant it!" said Considine.
"Your horse is fresher than mine," said Hans, "and you are lighter than
I am--go first. If there is water, hail me--if not, I will wait your
return."
With a nod of assent the youth pushed forward, gained the rock, and
found the place where water had once been, a dry hole!
For a few minutes he stood gazing languidly on the plain beyond the
ridge. Despair had almost taken possession of his breast, when his eye
suddenly brightened. He observed objects moving far away on the plain.
With bated breath he stooped and shaded his eyes with his hand. Yes,
there could be no doubt about it--a party of horsemen and
bullock-waggons! He tried to cheer, but his dry throat refused to act.
Turning quickly, he began to descend the hillside, and chanced to cough
as he went along. Instantly he was surrounded by almost a hundred
baboons, some of gigantic size, which came fearlessly towards him. They
grunted, grinned, and sprang from stone to stone, protruding their
mouths and drawing back the skin of their foreheads, threatening an
instant attack. Considine's gun was loaded, but he had lived long
enough in those regions to be fully aware of the danger of wounding one
of these creatures in such circumstances. Had he done so he would
probably have been torn to pieces in five minutes. He therefore kept
them off with the muzzle of his gun as he continued the descent. Some
of them came so near as to touch his hat while passing projecting rocks.
At last he reached the plain, where the baboons stopped and appeared to
hold a noisy council as to whether they should make a great assault or
not. He turned and levelled his gun.
"Come," thought he at that moment, "don't do it, Charlie. You have
escaped. Be thankful, and leave the poor brutes alone."
Obeying the orders of his conscience, he re-shouldered his gun and
returned to his friend, whom he found reclining under a low bush, and
informed him of what he had seen. The young Dutchman jumped up at once,
and, mounting, rode round a spur of the hill and out upon the plain. In
an hour they had overtaken their comrades, but great was their dismay on
finding that they had long ago consumed every drop of water, and that
they were suffering from thirst quite as much as themselves.
"Never mind," said Lucas Van Dyk; "let me comfort you with the assurance
that we shall certainly reach water in a few hours."
The hunter was right. Some hours before sunset the oxen and horses
quickened their pace of their own accord--sure sign that they had
scented water from afar. Shortly after, they came in sight of a stream.
The excitement of all increased as they pushed forward. They broke
into a wild run on nearing the stream; and then followed a scene which
is almost indescribable. The oxen were cast loose, the riders leaped to
the ground, and the whole party, men, oxen, and horses, ran in a
promiscuous heap into the water.
"Wow, man, Jerry, hae a care; ee'll be squizzen atween the beasts," said
Sandy Black, as the active Jerry passed him in the race.
The Scot's warning was not without reason, for next moment Jerry was up
to the knees in the stream between two oxen, who, closing on each other,
almost burst him. Easing off, they let him drop on hands and knees, and
he remained in that position drinking thankfully. The whole place was
quickly stirred up into a muddy compound like pea-soup, but neither man
nor beast was particular. They struggled forward and fell on their
knees--not inappropriately--to drink. One man was pushed down by an ox,
but seemed pleased with the refreshing coolness of his position, and
remained where he was drinking. Another in his haste tumbled over the
edge of the bank and rolled down, preceded by an impatient horse, which
had tripped over him. Both gathered themselves up, somehow, with their
lips in the water,--and drank! Young Rivers, happening to gain the
stream at a point where oxen and horses were wedged together tightly,
tried to force in between them, but, failing in this, he stooped to
crawl in below them. At that moment Slinger the "Tottie" gave a yell in
Dutch, and said that a horse was trampling on him; whom Dikkop consoled
by saying that _he_ was fast in the mud--and so he was, but not too fast
to prevent drinking. Meanwhile the Dutchmen and the knowing ones of the
party restrained themselves, and sought for better positions where the
water was clearer. There they, likewise, bent their tall heads and
suggested--though they did not sing--the couplet:
"Oh that a Dutchman's draught might be
As deep as the ro-o-olling Zuyder-Zee!"
The limit of drinking was capacity. Each man and beast drank as much as
he, or it, could hold, and then unwillingly left the stream, covered
with mud and dripping wet! Oh, it was a delicious refreshment, which
some thought fully repaid them for the toil and suffering they had
previously undergone. The aspect of the whole band may be described in
the language of Sandy Black, who, beholding his friends after the fray,
remarked that they were all "dirty and drookit."