"WE ARE FOUR FOOLS."
For upwards of two hours they forced their way through the thick scrub,
but success did not crown their efforts--did not even wait upon the
same. Once or twice a rustle and a scamper in front announced that
something had got up and broken away, but whatever it was, owing to the
thickness of the bush and the celerity with which it made itself scarce,
not one of the hunters could determine--being unable so much as to catch
a glimpse of the quarry. At length, wearied with their failure to
obtain sport under abnormal difficulties, they gained the edge of the
river, and there, upon a patch of smooth greensward beneath the cool
shade of a cliff, they decided to off-saddle and have a snack.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Hoste, looking complacently around. "This is a
lovely spot for a picnic. But wouldn't John Kafir have us in a hole
just, if he were to come upon us now?"
"We are four fools," said Payne sententiously.
"We are," growled Carhayes. "You never said a truer word than that.
Four damned fools to think we'd get a shot at anything in a strip of
cursed country we've been chevying niggers up and down for the last six
weeks. And as the idea was mine, I suppose I'm the champion fool of the
lot," he added with a savage laugh. "We haven't fired a shot this
blessed morning, and have had all our trouble for nothing."
This was not precisely the reflection that Payne's words were intended
to convey. But he said nothing.
"I'm not sure we have had our trouble for nothing," put in Eustace.
"It's grand country, anyhow."
It was. Magnificent and romantic scenery surrounded them; huge
perpendicular krantzes towering up many hundreds of feet; piles upon
piles of broken rocks and boulders, wherein the luxuriant and tangled
vegetation had profusely taken root; great rifts and ravines, covered
with dense black forest, and the swift murmuring current of the river
joining its music with the piping of birds from rock and brake.
But the remark was productive of a growl only from Carhayes. He had not
come out to look at scenery. They had had enough and to spare of that
during the campaign. He had come out to get a shot at a buck, and
hadn't got it.
Pipes were lighted, and the quartette lounged luxuriously upon the
sward. The frowning grandeur of the towering heights, the golden glow
of the sunlight upon the tree-tops, the soft, sensuous warmth of the
summer air, the hum of insects, and the plashing murmur of the river,
unconsciously affected all four--even grumbling, dissatisfied Tom
Carhayes.
"Whisht!" said Payne suddenly, holding up his hand to enjoin silence,
and starting from his lounging attitude. The others were prompt to
follow his example.
"What's the row, George?" whispered Hoste below his breath. "Hear
anything?"
For answer Payne waved his hand again and went on listening intently.
Up the sunlit river came a sound--a sound audible to all now, a sound
familiar to all--the tread of hoofs upon the stones, of unshod hoofs.
Mingling with this were other sounds--the low murmur of human voices.
Water, as everybody knows, is a great conductor of sound. Though more
than half a mile distant, they recognised the deep tones and inflections
of Kafir voices, whose owners were evidently coming down to the river on
the same side as themselves.
From their resting place the river ran in a long, straight reach.
Peering cautiously through the bushes, they were able to command this.
Almost immediately several large oxen, with great branching horns,
emerged from the forest, and, entering the water, splashed through to
the other side. They were followed by their drivers, three naked
Kafirs, who plunged into the river in their wake, holding their assegais
high over their heads, for the water came fully breast-high. They could
even hear the rattle of the assegai hafts as the savages climbed up the
opposite bank, laughing like children as they shook the water drops from
their sleek, well-greased skins. They counted thirteen head of cattle.
"A baker's dozen, by Jove! Stolen, of course," whispered Hoste.
"_Allamaghtaag_! if only we had known of that before we might have gone
to _voer-ly_ [Waylay] that drift, for it must be a drift. We might have
bagged all three niggers and trundled the oxen back to camp. A full
span, save three. Suppose they've eaten the rest. That'll be one
apiece--the _schelms_!"
"It isn't altogether too late now," said Carhayes. "I smell some fun
ahead. Let them get up over the rise, and then we'll go down and look
if their spoor seems worth following."
"And what if they are only the advance guard of a lot more?" suggested
Hoste.
"They are not," was the confident reply. "There are too few beasts and
too few niggers. I tell you there's some fun sticking out for us."
Quickly the horses were saddled. A high, bushy ridge precluded all
chance of their presence being discovered by the three marauders as soon
as the latter had crossed the river, and it certainly had not been
discovered before. Then, having allowed sufficient time to elapse, they
forded the river and rode forward on the other side, so as to converge
on the spoor leading up from the drift below.
"Here it is--as plain as mud," said Carhayes, bending over in his saddle
to examine the ground, which, dry and sandy, showed the hoof-prints and
footmarks so plainly that a child might have followed them. "They are
well over the rise by now, and the way isn't so rough as I expected.
Our plan is to make straight for the top of the hill. We can't get up
much quicker than they can, I'm afraid, unless we want to blow our
horses, which we don't. But once we are up there we shall find it all
open _veldt_, and all we've got to do is to ride them down in the open,
shoot the niggers, and head the stock back for the river again. Anyone
propose an amendment to that resolution?"
"We are four fools," said Payne laconically, knocking the ashes out of
his pipe and pocketing that useful implement.
"_Ja_! That's so," said Carhayes, joining heartily in the laugh which
greeted this remark. "And now, boys, are we on for the fun, that's the
question?"
"We just are," cried Hoste, whose dare-devil recklessness was akin to
that of Carhayes. The other two acquiesced silently, but as they caught
each other's glance, a curious satirical twinkle lurked in the eyes of
both men.
"A case of the tail wagging the dog," presently whispered Payne to
Eustace. "Two wise men led by two fools!"
The track, rough and stony, took longer to follow than they had
expected. Moreover they had to exercise extreme care, lest the clink of
the hoof-stroke of a shod horse perchance stumbling on the rocky way
should be borne to the quick, watchful ears of those they were
following. At length, however, the brow of the ridge was gained, and
there before them lay a rolling expanse of open country, yet not so open
as Carhayes had predicted, for it was pretty thickly dotted with mimosa,
and the grass was long, coarse, and tangled, rendering rapid riding
dangerous in parts.
Suddenly they came right upon a kraal nestling in a mimosa covered
valley. Three old hags were seated against one of the beehive shaped
huts, otherwise the place seemed quite deserted. No children were to be
seen--not even a half-starved cur skulking around--and of men or cattle
there was no sign. The spoor they were following had grown very
indistinct, and here seemed to split up into several directions.
The old women, frightful, toothless crones, all wrinkles and flaps,
showed no signs of alarm at this unexpected appearance of the invading
white men. On the contrary, they began to abuse them roundly in a
shrill, quavering treble.
"Macbeth _in excelsis_!" murmured Eustace at sight of them.
"Stop that cackling, you old hell-cats!" said Carhayes with a growl like
that of a savage dog, as he drew his revolver and pointed it right at
them, a pantomime which they thoroughly understood, for their
high-pitched abuse dropped to a most doleful howl. "Here, Eustace. You
can patter the lingo better than any of us, and I haven't the patience,
damn it! Ask these old rag bags which way the fellows with the oxen
took."
"We know nothing about men or oxen," came the prompt and whimpering
reply.
"You do know. Tell us quickly!" repeated Eustace warningly.
Sullenly the first disclaimer was reiterated.
A furious expletive burst from Carhayes.
"We can't lose any more time being fooled by these infernal old hags!"
he cried. "If they don't tell us before I count five I'll put a bullet
through each of them. Now--_Inye_--_zimbini_--_zintatu_..." [One--
two--three.]
"Hold hard, don't be a fool," warned Payne. "The shots are bound to be
heard."
"So they are. I know a better trick than that." And striking a match
Carhayes walked his horse up to the nearest hut. This was sufficient.
The old crones shrieked for mercy, while one of them quavered out:
"Ride that way, _abelungu_!" [White men] pointing in a direction they
had not intended to take. "But you will have to ride far--very far."
Believing they had inspired sufficient terror to insure the truth of
this information, and furiously cursing the time wasted in eliciting it,
Carhayes crammed the spurs into his horse's flanks and started off at a
gallop, followed by the other three. But the old crone's statement
proved correct. A couple of miles further the tracks, which had been
more or less scattered and indistinct, converged into one broad spoor.
Another ridge, then down into a kloof, and up the other side. Then, as
they gained the brow of yet another ridge, an excited ejaculation burst
from the lips of all four. Nearly a mile in front, stringing up a long,
gradual acclivity, trotted the thirteen oxen, urged forward by three
natives.
"Hurrah! Now we'll cut 'em out!" yelled Carhayes, as they dashed
forward in pursuit. The Kafirs, loath to abandon their spoil until
absolutely forced to do so, redoubled their efforts, as with loud shouts
and waving karosses they strove to accelerate the pace of the already
overdriven animals.
"We'd better risk a long shot," shouted Hoste, as it became apparent
that the pursued were very near the top of the rise, and in another
moment would be out of sight. "There may be a lot of bush, on the other
side, and we may lose them."
"No. Better not lose time or distance," said the more prudent Payne.
"We'll have 'em directly."