Dyke's first movement was back into the house, and to put up the bar
across the closed door, his heart beating violently; his next, to watch
the little window, and stand there with his double gun, ready to send a
couple of shots at the brute's muzzle, when it tried to get in, as he
felt sure that it would.
A minute--two minutes--passed, but he heard nothing, though he did not
feel surprised at this, for he knew from experience the soft velvety way
in which the animals would creep up after their prey. At any moment he
felt that the great, cat-like head and paws would appear at the opening,
which would just be big enough for creeping through; and unless his two
shots killed or wounded desperately, he knew that his fate was sealed.
"I must be firm, and not nervous, or I shall miss," he said to himself;
but how was he to be firm when gazing wildly at that narrow opening,
momentarily expecting to feel the puff of hot breath from the savage
brute's jaws, and be face to face with the terrible danger?
He knew he must be firm, and not lose his nerve; but how could he master
his senses at a time when he was watching that grey opening, with his
eyes beginning to swim, and the cold perspiration gathering upon his
forehead?
All at once there was a sound behind him, and he swung round, fully
believing that the stealthy creature had bounded on to the roof, and was
about to try to obtain entrance down through the big, low, granite-built
chimney, which had been made for cooking purposes, but never used.
"You wretch! how you startled me," muttered Dyke, as he saw that the dog
had caused his alarm by making a bound toward the door, with the thick
hair about its neck standing up in a bristling way, as it snuffled about
the bottom of the entry, and then uttered a low whine, and looked up at
its master, who felt that the lioness must be there.
Dyke turned to the window again, annoyed with his want of firmness,
feeling now that if the enemy had tried to take him in the rear like
that, he must have heard the bound up on to the iron roof.
Resuming his watchful position by the window, he waited again, and now
as he stood, with every nerve on the strain, he began to feel that the
inaction and suspense were more painful than trying to attack; so taking
a long, deep breath, he advanced closer to the window, with finger on
trigger, ready to fire on the instant.
Closer and closer, and now resting the barrels on the sill, gradually
protruding the gun muzzle a little, till he could look out between the
open wooden bars, unglazed for the sake of coolness, a small shutter
standing against the side below.
It was a cautious piece of reconnoitring, but from his position he could
see very little. There was the kopje, and the sky beginning to flame
golden; but there was plenty of room for the lioness to be crouching
beneath the window unseen, or on either side close up to the wall, where
he could not get a view without thrusting out head and shoulders, and so
placing himself in position for the enemy to make one lightning-like dab
at him with the claw-armed paw, and drag him out as a cat would a mouse.
Dyke drew back a little, and waited, listening to the neighing of one of
the horses, which started the remaining cows into a long, protesting
bellow, as the poor beasts asked to be relieved of their load of milk.
Then the boy's heart started beating again violently, for he felt that
the moment for action was fast approaching, if not at hand. He started
round listening, and as he did, he saw that the place was fairly lit up
now, and Emson's face stood out clearly as he lay peacefully asleep.
Duke snuffled at the crack at the bottom of the door, and uttered an
uneasy growl; while, plainly enough to be heard now, there was a
stealthy step, passing along beside the building, and making for the
back.
"Safe there!" thought Dyke; and the dog uttered his uneasy growl, while
his master listened intently for the creature's return.
And now that the peril seemed to be so close, Dyke's nerve grew firmer,
and ready to fire as soon as the lioness came round the other way, as he
felt sure she would, he encouraged himself with the thought that if he
were only steady, he could not miss.
He was not long kept waiting. There was the stealthy, soft step again,
and the sound of the animal's side brushing lightly against the
corrugated iron wall. But, to the overturning of the boy's
expectations, the sounds were not continued round from the back toward
the window, but in the same direction as that in which they had
previously been heard.
Duke uttered a low, muttering growl, and glanced round at his master,
thrusting his nose again to the bottom of the door, where the stealthy
pace ceased, and there was the sound as of the beast passing its muzzle
over the door.
The dog uttered a loud bark, and Dyke presented the muzzle of the gun,
half prepared to fire through the boards, but raised it, with his face
wrinkling up from a mingling of annoyance, surprise, and amusement, for
in answer to the dog's sharp bark, came:
"Ah-ah-ah-ah! Wanter bucket: milk."
"Tant!" cried Dyke, laying his hand on the bar. "Mind! there is a
lion," he said, as he opened the door cautiously.
"Eh? Eat a lot. Eat cow."
The woman, who seemed to have suddenly remembered a great deal of
English, smiled blandly, and took hold of the dog's muzzle, as Duke
raised himself on his hind-legs and placed his paws on her chest.
"Did you see the lion?"
"Yes; no hurt," said Tanta pleasantly. "Too much eat. Baas Joe die?"
"No!" cried Dyke, angrily, annoyed with the woman, and against himself
for his unnecessary fear. "But what do you want?"
"Milk cow--say moo-ooo!"
She produced a capital imitation of the animal's lowing, and laughed
merrily as it was answered from the shed.
"Only one cow. Lion eat much."
"Oh yes, I know all about that," cried Dyke; "but I thought you had
gone."
"Jack take away. No top. Jack tief."
"Yes, I know that; but do you mean Jack made you go away?"
The woman nodded.
"No top. Come back along, baas. Make fire, make cake, make milk."
"Make yourself useful, eh?" cried Dyke, to whom the woman's presence was
a wonderful relief.
"Come top baas."
Tanta Sal picked up one of the buckets standing just inside the door,
and nodded as she turned to go.
"Look here!" cried Dyke; "you can stay, but I'm not going to have Jack
back."
"No! no!" cried the woman fiercely; and banging down the bucket, she
went through a pantomime, in which she took Dyke's hand and placed it
upon the back of her woolly head, so that he might feel an enormous lump
in one place, a cut in another; and then with wondrous activity went
through a scene in which she appeared to have a struggle with some
personage, and ended by getting whoever it was down, kneeling upon his
chest, and punching his head in the most furious way.
"Jack tief!" she cried, as she rose panting, and took up the pail.
"Yes, I understand," said Dyke; "but you must not go near the cow. That
lioness is there."
The woman laughed.
"Baas shoot gun," she said.
Dyke carefully took out and examined the cartridges in his piece,
replaced them, and went forth with the woman, the dog bounding before
them, but only to be ordered to heel, growling ominously, as they came
in sight of the lioness, crouching in precisely the same position, and
beginning now fiercely to show her teeth. Then, as Dyke presented his
piece, she made an effort to rise, but sank down again, and dragged
herself slowly toward them, snarling savagely.
And now Dyke saw what was wrong. His bullet, which he had fired in the
night, had taken terrible effect. The brute had made one bound after
being struck, and crashed through the fence, to lie afterwards
completely paralysed in the hind-quarters, so that a carefully-directed
shot now quite ended her mischievous career, for she uttered one furious
snarl, clawing a little with her forepaws, and then rolled over dead,
close to the unfortunate cow she had dragged down and torn in the most
horrible way.
Tanta ran up and kicked the dead lioness, and then burst out with a
torrent of evidently insulting language in her own tongue; after which
she went, as if nothing had happened, to where the remaining cow stood
lowing impatiently, and proceeded to milk her in the coolest way.
Dyke examined the dead beast, and thought he should like the skin, which
was in beautiful condition; but he had plenty of other things to think
of, and hurried back to the house, followed by Duke, to see how his
brother was.
There was no change: Emson was sleeping; and, reloading his piece, the
boy went out once more to see to the ostriches, which seemed in a sorry
condition, and as he fed them, he felt as if he would like to set the
melancholy-looking creatures free.
"But Joe wouldn't like it when he gets better," thought Dyke; and at
last he returned to the house to find a pail half full of milk standing
at the door, while the smoke rising from behind the building showed that
Tanta had lit a fire.
The boy's spirits rose, for the misery and solitude of his position did
not seem so bad now, and on walking round to the front of the shed-like
lodge, he found the woman ready to look up laughingly, as she kneaded up
some meal for a cake.
"Where did you get that?" cried Dyke.
"Wagon," said the woman promptly. "Jack get mealie wagon. Jack tief.
Tanta Sal get mealie for baas."
"Yes, that's right; but you should ask me. But, look here, Tant, Jack
shan't come here. You understand?"
"Jack tief," cried the woman angrily, and jumping up from her knees she
ran into the lodge, and came back with an old wagon wheel spoke in her
floury hands, flourished it about, and made some fierce blows.
"Dat for Jack," she said, laughing, nodding, and then putting the stout
cudgel back again, and returning to go on preparing the cake for
breakfast, the kettle being already hanging in its place.
Dyke nodded and went away, and in an hour's time he was seated at a meal
at which there was hot bread and milk, fried bacon and eggs, and a
glorious feeling of hope in his breast; for poor Emson, as he lay there,
had eaten and drunk all that was given him, and was sleeping once more.
"Bother the old ostriches!" cried Dyke, as he looked down eagerly at the
sick man. "We can soon get some more, or do something else. We shan't
starve. You're mending fast, Joe, or you couldn't have eaten like that;
and if you get well, what does it matter about anything else? Only you
might look at a fellow as if you knew him, and just say a few words."
Emson made no sign; but his brother was in the best of spirits, and
found himself whistling while he was feeding the ostriches, starting up,
though, in alarm as a shadow fell upon the ground beside him.
But it was only Tanta Sal, who looked at him, smiling the while.
"Jack tief," she said; "teal mealie."
"Yes, I know," cried Dyke, nodding.
"Jack tief," said Tanta again. "Kill, hit stritch."
"What!" cried Dyke.
"Tant feed. Jack knock kopf."
"What! Jack knock the young ostriches on the head?"
"Ooomps!" grunted the woman, and picking up a stone, she took hold of
the neck of an imaginary young ostrich, and gave it a thump on the head
with the stone, then looked up at Dyke and laughed.
"The beast!" he cried indignantly.
"Ooomps! Jack tief."
Tanta looked sharply round, then ran to where some ostrich bones lay,
picked clean by the ants, and stooping down, took something from the
ground, and ran back to hand Dyke the skull of a young bird, pointing
with one black finger at a dint in the bone.
"Jack," she said laconically--"Jack no want stritch."
"No wonder our young birds didn't live," thought Dyke. Then to the
woman, as he pointed to the skull: "Find another one!"
Tanta nodded, showed her white teeth, ran off, and returned in a few
minutes with two, Dyke having in the meantime found a skull with the
same mark upon it, the bone dinted in as if by a round stone.
Both of those the woman brought were in the same condition, and she
picked up a good-sized pebble and tapped it against the depression,
showing that the injury must have been done in that way.
"Yes, that's it, sure enough," said Dyke thoughtfully; "and we knew no
better, but fancied that it was disease."
He looked glum and disappointed for a few moments, and then brightened
as he took the gun from where he had stood it against a fence.
"Look," he said, tapping it. "If Jack comes, I'll shoot;" and he added
to himself: "I will too. I'll pepper him with the smallest shot I've
got."
"Yes; ooomps," said the woman, nodding her head approvingly; "Jack say
Baas Joe die. Have all mealie, all cow, all bull-bull, all everyting.--
Baas Joe not go die?"
"No."
"No," assented the woman, smiling. "Tanta top. Tant don't want um any
more. Tief. Shoot Jack. No kill."
"Oh no! I won't kill him; but don't let him come here again."
Dyke went back to the house in the highest of spirits.
"It's all right," he said to himself. "We know now why the ostriches
didn't get on. Nice sort of disease that. Oh! I do wish I had caught
the nigger at it. But never mind, Joe's getting on; and as soon as I
can leave him, I'll hunt out some more nests, and we'll begin all over
again, and--"
The boy stopped just inside the door, trembling, for as he appeared, the
very ghost of a voice whispered feebly:
"That you, little un? How long you have been." The next moment Dyke
was on his knees by the rough couch, holding one of the thin hands in
his and trying to speak; but it was as if something had seized him by
the throat, for not a word would come.