Kafirland!
People are beginning now-a-days to know where Kafirland is!
Verily they have paid dearly for their knowledge!
It is a beautiful land, with its open savannahs, its wooded glens, its
heathy mountains, its green and undulating parks--nature's plantations!
Pleasant to the eye is the sight of the colonists' sheltered farms,
surrounded by waving cornfields, and backed by noble mountains,
ascending in the distance, one above another, assuming every hue it is
possible to imagine, and finally blending their purple heights with
clouds all radiant with gold, or shaping themselves into canopies of
sombre colouring, and veiling the glories of heaven from the upturned
gaze of man.
But from these scenes the traveller may suddenly find himself translated
to the most sterile moors, stretching out in apparently illimitable
space, or bounded by bald rocks, which offer no "shadow from the heat,"
no "refuge from the storm." In these tracts, the earth, resembling
lava, is bare of all but stones, except where some bright-flowering bulb
has struggled with its destiny, only to waste its beauty on the desert.
There is nothing living to be seen in these inhospitable regions, save
when the hungry travellers pause to "to kill and eat," and lo! as the
scent of blood rises in the atmosphere, a solitary speck hovers in the
sky, another, and another, and, like airy demons waiting for their prey,
the asphogels, the gigantic vultures of South Africa, keep watch over
the bivouac, in anticipation of the feast for which their instinct has
prepared them.
It was in the centre of an unsightly plain that three travellers were
arrested on their journey by one of those appalling storms which, in the
loveliest spots of Southern Africa, disenchant the mind, impressed with
the beauty of the wooded tracts, or the grandeur of even the solitary
wastes, with the sweet influence of balmy mornings, or the nights serene
and clear, sometimes shining more brilliantly than day.
All the morning symptoms in the air had warned the attendant of our
travellers, a knowing little bush man, of an approaching storm, and he
had urged his masters to advance with all the speed they could drive
into their patient and active steeds. But the lightning soon played in
all its horrible brightness, piles of clouds like snow began to rise in
front; to the unpractised ear all was silent, but the bushman called a
halt, and dismounting, led the others with their horses behind a heap of
stones.
Thus partially screened, they awaited the mighty tempest.
The giant of the storm advanced as with a trumpet-blast from that part
of the horizon whence the lightning had telegraphed his approach. He
came with a rushing sound resembling the passage of an invisible but
powerful host, the desert shook with the terror of his presence, the
clouds came slowly floating on, growing darker and darker, till their
hue was of a leaden aspect, and in a few moments, as with a roar of many
waters, the rains poured down their torrents, the winds whistled an
unearthly chorus to the plashing of the floods, the great stones rocked
and moaned, the thunder pealed, now muttering in ill-subdued wrath, and
now clattering overhead in ungovernable fury, then passing by to burst
its bolts on some far mountain-top, or on fair pasture-lands, where
cattle stood huddled together in terror and dismay. There was silence
at length upon the plain. "The earth trembled and was still," the
horses lifted their heads and snuffed up the refreshing air; the little
bushman groom, whom I shall describe by-and-by, drew the covers from the
saddles, and the two young men, his masters, shook themselves like dogs
on reaching land after a long swim.
"Well," said the younger, a man of slender frame, but not the less manly
in his appearance for that, "here is a precious specimen of an African
climate!"
"Yes, my good fellow; you are able to judge of it now," replied his
companion, Major Frankfort, whose darkened complexion and tanned
gloveless hands proved his experience in the country, and who solaced
himself and his friend moderately with a _sopie_ (dram), from the flask
stuck in his leather waist-belt, to which other appendages were fixed.
Neither did he forget the shivering but smiling bushman, May. The name
is not in keeping with this very original little groom, but he had been
so named not without reason.
These two travellers, Major Frankfort and Mr Ormsby, were officers of
an English regiment employed on the frontier of the British possessions
in South Africa, and had obtained leave of absence for the purpose of
journeying together on a shooting excursion beyond the Orange River.
The younger one had never seen any sport beyond his father's moors, and,
albeit rather indolent and luxurious of habit, he found himself tempted
to accompany Frankfort into the interior of the country, where he was
told that droves of large game, of manifold species, were to be seen
herding together on the mountain slopes and spacious plains to the
north-east.
And now the sun burst forth, the clouds rolled away in heavy masses, the
plain stretched wider and wider in the clear expanse, and in the
distance the hills loomed large, till at length the peaks and tableland
stood out strongly defined against the sky.
The horses were well rubbed down and re-saddled, the travellers resumed
their route, and in another hour some signs of vegetation promised
comfort and repose.
Clumps of bush adorned either side of the road, the large starry
jessamine, the glowing geranium, the golden-blossomed green mimosa,
emitting a delightful odour from the bowers formed by nature's graceful
hand, were doubly agreeable to the eye that ached with gazing on a
barren space, and ere long the ripple of water sounded musically among
the trees; in another moment a clear stream delighted the eyes of men
and beasts.
Pleasant it was in that cool drift (ford) to feel the gentle gale
fanning the heated brow, pleasant to lift even the light felt hat from
the head, and halt beneath the over-arching boughs of willows and trees
of statelier growth, in which the monkeys chattered, frightening the
poor guanas from their hiding-places among the stones into the sanctuary
of the tall grasses and plants, prodigal of beauty in the deep solitude.
They crossed the stream, and after threading a defile thickly studded
with euphorbias and prickly-pear bushes, the honey-bird hovering about
them and striving to beguile them to those delicious nooks where bees
make their nests, and the coneys have colonies in the cliffs, they found
themselves upon another plain, dotted like a park with clumps of trees.
Here the bushman guide halted, and placing the open palm of his right
hand above the left, he measured the space between the sun and the
horizon, and, announcing that "it wanted one hour to sunset," gave his
horse the rein, and cantering on at a smarter pace than before, was
followed by his masters.
They soon came upon the track of waggon-wheels, next they found the
remains of fire and the _debris_ of a meal; at a little distance lay the
carcase of a poor ox, which had died probably from exhaustion, and round
it were assembled, in greedy conclave, what appeared to Ormsby's
unpractised eye a flock of sheep. It was a company of vultures, seated
in a circle round their prey, and while some still ate, the rest,
unwilling or unable to move from the scene of the repast, kept close
order, and dosingly watched their hungry comrades with a ludicrously
stupified air.
Unwilling to disturb these scavengers of nature, the three horsemen
moved on, and soon looked down upon a valley, the quiet of which was
relieved by a farm-house of regular proportions; but the shingle roof,
bare white walls, and ill-tended garden had nothing picturesque about
them, although the valley was rich in corn, and a grove of fruit-trees
proved the capabilities of the soil; but these were planted without
taste or order.
Beyond, the scene was charmingly pastoral; a clear stream, a branch of
the river they had lately forded, wound through the vale, and from the
banks opposite the settlement was a gently-sloping hill, thickly wooded
in some parts. On the open spaces cattle were browsing, unmindful of
the call of the Hottentot herds, too indolent to climb the steep and
drive them down. The call was unheeded till it was accompanied by the
shrill whistle of a little Kafir boy, that whistle which acts like magic
on the cattle of South Africa; with one accord the creatures paused,
lifted up their heads to listen, and then the largest ox of the herd
turning to descend the hill, the rest wended their way after him to meet
these impish guards, while other herdsmen went to collect the great
flocks of sheep and goats, whose approach along the course of the river
was continuously audible enough to charm the most Arcadian taste and
ear. The lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the smaller but more
numerous "creatures of the fold," the Kafir whistle, and the song and
laughter of the Hottentot girls, floated together in a sort of wild
harmony along the vale, and met the travellers in their descent; but not
the least agreeable part of the picture to the latter, was the sight of
their waggons drawn up upon a miniature prairie, or flat on the margin
of the stream, and the smoke, curling upwards from the bush, announced
the preparation for cookery, to which they were disposed to do ample
justice. Their tents were pitched, they were evidently expected, and
the Hottentot courier, who had preceded them by a day, had done his
bidding and "made ready."
The hospitable Dutchman, the owner of the farm, was on the look-out for
them, for he stood leaning over his wicker gate and watching their
advance.
They cantered up, and replied to his "Good morrow,"--Frankfort
cordially, Ormsby with cold civility; but the Dutchman invited them
within, and Frankfort, feeling himself indebted for the permission to
_outspan_ (unyoke) on the farm-land, accepted the proffered attention,
much to Ormsby's disgust, for he was hungry, tired, and thoroughly
uncomfortable from the effects of the drenching he had got.
So was Major Frankfort; but these two men, though friends and
companions, were very different in habits and opinions. Indeed, Ormsby,
had it been practicable, would gladly have faced about and given up that
expedition, so utterly annoyed was he with many _desagremens en route_;
indeed, he had been first induced to accompany Frankfort, because his
brother-officers had offended his manly pride by doubting his powers of
endurance on a _trek_ (journey) through the depopulated wilderness.
"You lazy dog, Ormsby," his colonel had observed to him one morning,
"how can _you_ talk of going up the country with Frankfort? he will
never make a sportsman of you,--you are always late for parade."
"I am never _last_, sir," replied the youngster to his commanding
officer, who happened that very day to have kept the parade waiting; a
thing commanding officers constantly do themselves, though they punish
their subordinates for the error.
"Humph!--You know nothing of sporting--you talk of the moors; why,
Frankfort has shot his five-and-twenty lions; besides, you would be
breakfasting at his dinner-hour, and grumbling that you have no cream
for your coffee as muddy as the water of the Fish River. Tell us, now,
what time you got up this morning."
"I confess, that is rather a poser, sir; but I will ask my servant, if
you particularly desire to know," answered Ormsby, with a demure look,
which set some of the subs laughing.
"Can you tell when the sun rose?" asked Colonel J.
"No, sir," replied the saucy Ormsby, gravely; "he was up before I was."
It was the manner, not the matter, that made every one laugh, and
Ormsby, running his hand through his shining, but carelessly-arranged
hair, called to his servant to bring him his cigar-case, and the last
new novel he had received from England, in Hookham's box; then,
stretching himself at full length across a window-sill of the mess-room,
he took up a paper, declaring it was too hot for billiards; next he
ordered some pale ale, with which he solaced himself while he waited for
his novel and cigar, and having obtained these, began to long for
luncheon.
In great contrast to him was his friend Major Frankfort. Though
possessed of attractions which would render many a man vain, Frankfort
was sadly insensible to the charms of a society in which he would have
been flattered and caressed. The principal features in his character
were generosity, and its sister attribute, bravery; but there was withal
a certain reserve in his nature, which prevented him from being
appreciated, except by friends, and these were not numerous; for he was
neither a person to seek, or be sought--he was one who could not be
gratified by the commonplaces of every-day life. His love of adventure
had its impulses, not in the excitement of the gay world, but in the
beauties, harmonies, and sublimities of nature.
The winter season had passed away without realising the expectation
formed by the colonists of a war with the savage tribes on their border,
and the months succeeding the rains were looked forward to by sportsmen
as a season of relief and enjoyments, after the _desagremens_ of a life
"under arms," without the excitement of "an enemy in sight."
How often it happens, especially in the naval and military professions,
that two men of totally opposite natures will become the most intimate
friends of the community to which they belong. No two characters could
be more strongly contrasted than those of Edward Frankfort and Charles
Ormsby. Characters may differ where natures may have attributes in
common.
Frankfort was generous and brave, so was Ormsby; but the latter was
often more generous than just, for he had never been taught the value of
money or opinion, nor how to discriminate between the faults arising
from folly, or those originating in misfortune. Equally brave with
Frankfort, he was hasty in his judgments and impetuous in his decisions,
forgetting that fool-hardiness is no proof of courage, and that valour
is not thought the less of for being coupled with discretion. But,
unlike Frankfort, whose candour was never obtrusive, Ormsby's openness
of manner often degenerated into egotism.
Frankfort was careless of appearances as far as mere fashion went;
nevertheless, his attire was always suited to the occasion. Ormsby,
while he affected to despise those outward adornings which render men
effeminate, and consequently despicable in the eyes of those they most
seek to please, displayed a certain affectation in the tie of the loose
cravat which showed to advantage the beauty of his throat; the straw hat
he wore in the morning lounge was coarse, but of becoming shape, and his
shooting-coat, or loose jacket, hung on his shoulders as they would have
hung on no other's.
Pretending to despise the uniform of the soldier, he "sported" a costume
as little like an officer's and as much like a settler's as possible;
but to see him enter a hall-room in all the pride of scarlet and gold,
it was clear that he thought himself the finest there. So Colonel J
said; but Ormsby was perpetually vexing Colonel J, the most selfish of
men, the most exacting of commanding officers.
This dash of conceit, however, was rather becoming to one so handsome,
so agreeable, and so open-hearted; and Major Frankfort found himself
making allowances for the young sub's faults, and at last taking
sufficient interest in him to endeavour to correct them. Early
indulgences made this a difficult matter; but Frankfort saw, that though
the surface was overrun with weeds and rubbish, there was something
below worth getting at. Little rays of light gleamed up at times, and
showed that there was good ore in the mine.
Unaccustomed to bestow his regard too readily, Frankfort might never
have yielded to the outward attractions of this fine young man, but duty
brought them together, and Major Frankfort began to like Ormsby against
his will. Happily for the latter, the influence of such a character as
Frankfort's was not thrown away upon him; for his nature, as I have
shown, was capable of excellent impulses. These, like goodly fruits
brought from shade to sunlight, soon ripened into sentiments, which
might hereafter become principles; but the future must not be
forestalled.
And all this time we have kept them at the gate of the poor Dutchman's
desolate-looking garden.
Major Frankfort shook hands with Vanbloem, or rather Vanbloem shook
hands with Frankfort. Ormsby did not understand such familiarity, but
he suffered it with a better grace than he would have done had some of
his brother-officers been by, and permitting May to lead off his horse,
followed the Dutchman to the entrance of his neglected-looking abode.
Vanbloem's wife was a mild-tempered woman, too indolent to scold the
lazy Hottentot girls sitting in the garden, or rather yard, of the
dwelling, awaiting the return of the herdsmen, and totally regardless of
their charges, the children, who, rejoicing in the dirt, were busily
employed, under the tuition of a little Fingo boy [see Note 1], in
moulding most unclassical representations of elands, rhinoceroses,
sea-cows, elephants, and various other denizens of the hunting-grounds.
The aspect of the principal apartment and only sitting-room of the house
did not strike the travellers as inviting, and to Ormsby, the
slaughtered sheep suspended from the roof, with his head downwards, and
dripping with blood, was particularly revolting; turning his back to it
in disgust, he found himself face to face with two enormous people, the
grandfather and grandmother of the family. He might have doubted their
being alive, but for the pipe in the patriarch's mouth. The ancient
dame sat almost immovable, but a slight tremor in the head indicated
palsy. A teapot stood on a little table beside her, and with her feet
turned backwards round the legs of the chair, and her arms folded under
her apron, she looked as if she had dressed herself in the round-eared
cap and ample gown of _voerchitz_, a coarse print, manufactured in
England, for once and for aye, never to be changed. A felt hat crowned
the white head of the old man, and with more courtesy than the Boer
usually exhibits, he lifted it from his brow, but replaced it ere he
shook hands with Major Frankfort, who offered his palm at once. Two or
three heads of round-faced Dutch girls, Vanbloem's elder daughters,
peeped in from a door leading to a back room; they vanished with a
giggle, and then one, less shy than the rest, came forward and ventured
to offer the "tea-water." This was declined with thanks; but unwilling
to treat the civilities of these poor people with coldness, Frankfort
promised to say "Good night" before he and his friend retired for the
night.
They then proceeded to the outspan, and gave orders for the preparation
of their repast, while they bathed in the stream, yet warm from the
effects of the sun.
The pools under the alders were clear and deep. How delicious it was to
cast aside the heavy coat, saturated as it had been with wet; how
refreshing to lave the weary limbs in the crystal bath!
Then what ample justice was done to the carbonatje (broiled mutton
steaks), and the stewed buck, and the "remove" of quail, to say nothing
of the glass of "warm stuff," when the sun went down and the cool breeze
came up the river. Verily, our travellers enjoyed their repose on that
green bank with a greater zest than they could have done in a
well-appointed foam, after a more luxurious feast in this quiet-going,
"very comfortable" England.
It must be owned they had not a very military appearance, albeit they
are "armed and accoutred" for "the road." Their jackets of drab duffle,
reaching to the hip, were rendered more useful than ornamental by the
capacious pockets; their felt hats were of that description long since
adopted by the patriarchal Boers of Southern Africa, and of late become
fashionable in England under the designation of "Jem Crows" and
"wide-awakes;" and the ostrich plume, wound round these, not only shaded
their brows from the fervid sun, but attracted the flies from their
faces, somewhat blistered by the alternations of heat and wind and rain.
Their trowsers of pliable brown leather stoutly resisted the thorns, or
rather spikes, of the mimosa bushes; their _veldt scoons_ (shoes) were
of the same material, but stronger, and fitted the foot as easily as a
glove; and their costume was rendered complete by the belt buckled round
the waist, from which was slung, besides the flask, a small pouch of
buckskin, containing gun-caps, a clasp-knife with numerous blades, and
various other articles necessary for the journey,--a pair of
long-barrelled pistols completing the equipment when starting for the
_trek_. When riding without their waggons, they moved with a change of
linen in a small sabretache of tiger-skin, appended to the saddle, while
in a haversack was a good store of dried meat, hard-boiled eggs when
they were to be had, and biscuit; in short, sufficient, on a pinch, for
a good day's meal.
They rose to pay their adieux to Vanbloem and his family. Frankfort was
unarmed, but Ormsby had by chance stuck in his belt his six-barrelled
pistol, then a great novelty in that far country. Frankfort remarked
this on entering Vanbloem's gateway; but his companion explained that it
was not loaded, which was satisfactory, for the Dutch, though kindly
disposed towards English settlers, were no great friends to the
government, and, alas! there were not wanting men of a bad faction to
turn even a trifling action of this nature to bad account.
The glory of the sun had departed, but there was twilight, which makes
the summer day of the Cape so much longer and pleasanter than that of
the tropics. The door of the great room at Vanbloem's stood wide open,
and the coarse, flaring, home-made candles shed their flickering rays on
a group assembled to look at the two Englishmen. To the family party
were now added three or four Hottentot servant-girls, their woolly locks
concealed beneath bright-coloured _douks_ (head-kerchiefs). They had a
smart air, for they were arrayed in flaunting colours. Scarlet or
yellow bodices set off a striped or elaborately-patched petticoat, ample
in width and scanty in length, displaying ankles that fine ladies would
have coveted and feet proportionally minute. A bevy of children, very
merry, very noisy, and very dirty, were chattering together at play, and
looking in at an open window, with the strong light falling on their
dusky forms, round which, their blankets loosely and gracefully draped,
were two Kafir herdsmen. Their crisp hair, thicker than that of the
Hottentots, was elaborately _coiffe_, being stiffened with red clay;
round their well-shaped throats were necklaces of beads intermixed with
wolves' teeth, and sundry rude ornaments adopted as charms, having been
endued with certain magic powers by the witch doctors or rain-makers of
the tribe. Their wrists were encircled by brazen bangles, and each
carried his snuffbox, a miniature tortoise-shell, with its long ivory
spoon appended by a brazen chain.
One of them was in the act of putting a spoonful of the mixture into his
mouth, when Ormsby walked up to him, and with great deliberation began
examining him with the same curiosity that a naturalist would have
evinced on seeing some newly-discovered animal. Both Kafirs returned
his survey with a steady gaze.
In strong contrast to these sculptured and dignified-looking beings,
rose the noise of chattering among the other occupants of the house and
_stoep_ [the platform that runs along the front of all Dutch houses].
The old patriarch and his wife indeed maintained their usual
taciturnity, and sat just within the door, their chairs having been
moved there by their son, for the filial deference of the Dutch is
remarkable.
At last some of the Hottentots, who had retired to a corner of the
stoep, after a due examination of the travellers, began singing in a
soprano key; the men coming from the farm-yards and joining them in
deeper tones, all in perfect harmony, and some of the voices exceedingly
pleasing.
It was an old but popular air, one which had found its way, like an
angel's voice, across the waters, into the wilderness. It was a hymn
sung to the tune of "Home, sweet Home!"
The sopranos were a little tremulous, to be sure, but true to time and
tune, and the bass voices gave solemnity to the chorus.
The associations it called up were strangely contrasted with the scene.
A rude dwelling, oddly peopled, standing in the midst of a wild garden,
ill-tended, but perfumed by orange-trees, waving their scented boughs in
the still air, while beyond, in dreamy profile, rose the boundary of
hills with the spacious silent landscape between; but the far mountains,
of brown and purple and pale blue, had faded utterly away into the
clouds of night.
"Home, sweet Home!" Ormsby listened only to the air. He was not one
accustomed to give way to those emotions of the soul which soften its
impulses and direct its thoughts to the gentlest and most hallowed ties
of earth; it must, indeed be confessed that he was too much inclined to
discourage such emotions and to quiz them, as it is called, in others;
but his heart, at this distance from the beloved and remembered faces
which had shone upon him at home, was disturbed by its reminiscences.
The air was identified with a lost sister, the pet of his boyhood.
There was a sudden vision of a long, narrow, day nursery, with many
windows looking out upon green uplands and rich waving woods, where the
fox-hounds used to meet; of another room, within, where old nurse Hetty
used to sit and sing to his consumptive little sister, who died
afterwards.
As he leaned against one of the rough pillars supporting a gable of the
building, his thoughts wandered back to those early days; vividly he
remembered that one on which his little favourite sister had been
carried away dead; with what terror had he watched the dark and
high-plumed hearse, with its fearful train of black carriages, all drawn
by solemn, heavy sable horses, waiting for the small coffin, to bear it
through the snow of the churchyard. He remembered it was midwinter; the
ground and the trees and the hills and the roofs of the stables were all
white with snow; it powdered the harness of the coal-black horses, and
the carriages and hearse, as they wended their dreary way down the long
avenue of leafless trees, and through the lodge-gates and along the
road, till they were lost sight of below the slopes at the boundary of
the park.
He remembered hearing his younger brother begin to sing the familiar
tune, and nurse Hetty's dismay because she could not silence him, and
his mother, in her white dressing-gown, looking into the nursery with
eyes streaming with tears.
That air had long been forbidden in his father's house, and he had not
heard it for years till now. Never had he been so nearly overcome by
tender recollections; he mastered his emotions by a strong effort, and
bowed civilly to Mrs Vanbloem's invitation to sit down.
The Kafirs had eyed him with some admiration, but were more attracted by
the appearance of Frankfort. The Hottentot girls, having finished their
hymn, came in from the stoep and manifested their unqualified admiration
of his wavy chestnut hair, his brilliant eyes, and the gold chain that
peeked from the folds of his dress. One gazed first at his glossy
locks, then felt her own scanty allowance of frizzled wool; another
cried, "good," "pretty," as she walked round him with a mixed expression
of surprise and delight, and the youngest of all laughed aloud,
exhibiting teeth finer than his own.
The Kafirs, having followed the Hottentot servants into the house,
seated themselves on the floor at a respectful distance. Frankfort
begged Vanbloem to translate the remarks they were evidently making on
himself and his friend. The handsome countenance and elegant figure of
Ormsby did not make so strong to impression on them as the more powerful
form of Frankfort, who was the taller of the two by some inches. They
were, however, neither loud nor demonstrative, but eyeing him from head
to foot, they passed their deliberate commendations in their own
peculiar manner. "Ma-wo!" had been the first exclamation of the younger
and more excitable Kafir, as the tall figure of Frankfort had cast its
shadow upon the wall, against which they leaned in indolent fashion, as
the travellers walked up the garden-path with Vanbloem--Ma-wo implying
astonishment.
The other had taken his observations at first in silence; but now he
observed to his companion, in a low musical voice, "Inkosi
enkulu!"--"That is a great captain."
"Eurci!" was the reply, when the other had satisfied himself that his
friend's judgment was correct.
Frankfort saw the eyes of both the Kafirs fixed upon him, and returned
their glances with such an expression of good-will, that they with one
accord held out two pair of hands, uttering the old imperative demand
peculiar to Kafirs, "Baseila,"--"Gift."
All savages are beggars, more or less; but the Kafir does not beg, he
_demands_.
Frankfort laughed, and took some sticks of tobacco from the vast pockets
of his duffle jacket, and would doubtless have been besieged for more,
but that the light flashing on the six-barrelled weapon in Ormsby's belt
drew the dark and gleaming eyes of the Kafirs upon him, and their
exclamations brought the rest of the household round him in a circle.
He drew the pistol from the belt to gratify the surprise and curiosity
of Vanbloem, who handed it to his father. The patriarch had the
pleasure of exhibiting it to all, and so great was the astonishment and
admiration displayed, that Ormsby would have offered it to the farmer,
but Frankfort checked the generous intention.
The dissertation between the old man and his son was amusing; the
patriarch remarking that where the pistol might _wound six_, the _roer_,
the long gun of the Boers, _must_ kill all it aimed at. The old man had
a hearty contempt for all new-fashioned implements of war, but his son
resigned the brilliantly-polished weapon with a sigh, which so touched
Frankfort, that he promised to select a single-barrelled pistol from his
collection of small-arms, and send it from the bivouac, as an offering
of good-will to the good-natured Boer.
Our sportsmen then took their leave, in spite of the kindly invitation
to sit down to the homely but plentiful table with the family of four
generations, beginning with the aged grandfather, and ending, for the
present, with the grandchild of Vanbloem, junior.
They found the waggons made snug for the night, and the cattle safely
fastened to the tressel-booms--poor things! they were liable to
molestation from wolves, close as they were to a thriving homestead.
May threw additional billets on the fire as his masters drew near--the
other attendants were fast asleep beneath the store-waggon, and
Frankfort and Ormsby prepared to luxuriate on the karosses spread within
their sleeping-tent, a species of pavilion, affixed to the ponderous
vehicle, their dwelling-place in rude weather, lined throughout with
baize, furnished with well-stuffed benches, and made complete with
sundry pockets, slings, straps, and thick curtains at either end.
Ormsby was sound asleep before Frankfort had inspected the preparations
for the start at dawn. Having seen to the arrangements for replenishing
the fire for warming the coffee, having ascertained that the curtains
were closed against the invasion of an unexpected storm, that the arms
were secure--the horses safely picqueted, and the oxen safely _reimed_
(fastened with thongs of hide), he was just about to tie the last knot
of the tent-flap, when he fancied he heard some one breathing nearer to
him than any of the sleeping groups, as Ormsby had thoughtlessly
extinguished the light within the tent, and his low and steady breathing
proved his insensibility to sight or sound--Frankfort stooped down, and,
laying his ear to the ground, distinguished the pressure rather than the
sound of a step upon the short turf.