"Yes, we remember him when quite a boy."
Candour evidently prevailed over a seeming reluctance to refer to the
past; and yet there was nothing singular in Eleanor Daveney's
remembrance of May, who had been employed from childhood about the
English quarters and locations. It was simply her sudden pause,
hesitation, and hurried tone in admitting the truth, which had attracted
Frankfort's notice.
Ormsby, on hearing the bushman had sped into the wilderness, grew
furious with Piet, and wished Frankfort had taken his advice in
forbidding Fitje's accompanying her husband. Frankfort reproached
himself for not riding in the rear of the cavalcade, and keeping the
party together, but time was too precious for unavailing regret; it was
deemed prudent to close and secure the front of the dwelling, Eleanor
consoling Marion by reminding her that, for the present, the war-cry of
Kafirland was their best personal security, since "you know," said she,
"that unlike the honest faces of civilised lands, the Kafir comes not
with beating drum and flying standard; and the settler of South Africa
is safest when face to face with his wicked neighbour. Yet," added
Eleanor, "why should I call the Kafir wicked?--it is not for me to
judge."
Again there arose that shrill, terrific war-cry. Marion shuddered, and
wound her arms round her sister's slender waist.
"Poor wretches!" said Eleanor, lifting her mournful eyes to
heaven--"poor misguided beings!" and, clasping her hands, her lips moved
in inaudible prayer.
Frankfort watched her as she implored Heaven in behalf of the unhappy
savages, and could not help contrasting her mild courage with her
mother's authoritative air of resolution and her sister's utter
helplessness and terror.
All night long the little garrison of Annerley stood to its arms, the
sentinels immovable at the outposts, Daveney and Frankfort going the
rounds at intervals, Ormsby in command of the party guarding the
rearward premises, his head-quarters being the trellised passage, from
which he occasionally looked in upon the ladies. He had been
particularly requested by his host to act under the directions of the
old Griqua, who had been a soldier in the Cape Corps, and whose
experience was invaluable; and, what was more than Frankfort had
expected, Ormsby had the good sense to see this, and acknowledge it.
Daveney, albeit far from easy as to the safety of his family, would not
permit his domestic troubles to interfere with his duties as master of a
household.
Once, when on his rounds with Frankfort, he looked in upon the group,
and asked how all went on. Marmion had made his way into the
sitting-room, and stretched himself at Eleanor's feet, with his black
muzzle to the ground, and ears and eyes wide open, keeping watch and
ward over the group. Marion lay on a couch, her head pillowed on her
sister's arm, and fast asleep, her ringlets hanging, all dishevelled,
round her, and Mrs Daveney's anxious gaze was riveted on a loop-hole
looking eastward, watching with weary heart the long-coming of the dawn.
So wore on the night. The fires on the hills died away; the gorgeous
sun, opening his gates of glory, came forth to dispel the smoke and
vapours that obscured the distant mountains and floated over the plains;
the night sentinels were relieved, and other watches set; the house was
put in order for the morning refreshment, so much needed; the herdsmen,
well armed, led the cattle to the open ground fronting the settlement,
and the ladies retired to their own apartments for a while.
Frankfort then expressed his deep anxiety about the missing members of
his train; but as it was considered by his host highly imprudent to
reduce the force of the garrison under present circumstances, there was
nothing for it but to leave May to his known sagacity, and hope that old
Piet had not brought himself and others into danger through his
obstinacy and imprudence; for there was no denying that the vley
indicated by May as the outspan was flanked on one side by a dense bush,
a notorious haunt of Kafirs.
Our two sportsmen were ushered by Mr Daveney into a tolerably-sized
apartment, divided by a wooden partition running little more than half
way to the roof. Everything was in the most homely style, but
exquisitely neat. In each domicile was a small camp bedstead, table,
chair, and chest of drawers, all manufactured by their ingenious host.
Sheepskin mats were spread on the earthen floor, and the walls,
originally white-washed, were gaily papered with manifold prints and
engravings from some of those publications which, for the last fifteen
years, have taken England and her customs through the length and breadth
of the earth. The windows were, of course, partially screened by
brickwork; but the sun pierced one of the loops, and shed its rays on
the picture of a popular _danseuse_. Frankfort would have smiled at the
associations called forth by such an anomaly, but his heart misgave him
about his faithful servant, and though he lay down, he could not rest,
and he longed to start in search of May; but that would have been
absurdly imprudent.
At noon the cattle herds came running in, to say that horsemen were in
sight; and Daveney, on examining the defile behind the settlement,
descried, to his great satisfaction, a party of burghers, headed by an
escort of Cape cavalry.
In five minutes they were at the gate, the state of their steeds
indicating sharp riding. Daveney stood with open doors ready to receive
them, and the officer in command dismounted, and presented an official
packet.
It announced that the Commander-in-Chief, Sir John Manvers, had reached
the frontier; that, deeming it prudent to await his reinforcements, he
had projected a meeting with the Kafir chiefs at the base of the Amatola
range; that, for the present, open hostilities were suspended; that the
Eighty --th had been selected, as the weaker corps, for garrison duty.
Daveney was instructed to put the district under his authority on the
_qui vive_, and to send the General such intelligence as he could
gather. It was anticipated that the meeting in Kafirland would not tend
to a peaceful result, as Sir John had to propose terms most distasteful
to the tribes, who had long been bent on war. "And so," said Captain
Ledyard, coolly dusting his boots on the steps, and looking round on the
unfinished defences, "the sooner you throw up your outworks, Daveney,
the better." Captain Ledyard had, from his bivouac at night, witnessed
the warlike demonstrations on the hills, and pronounced them as evincing
the resolution of the war party in Kafirland. It was very natural to
believe that the Kafir scouts had seen his fires, and carried the
intelligence to the chiefs, that troops were on the march. The warriors
had therefore evidently delayed offensive operations till it, was
ascertained whether more were following.
"You are too well accustomed," said Ledyard, "to guard against stealthy
attacks, to require any caution on that head; but it is amazing to think
how these devils have supplied themselves with ammunition. Within six
or seven months, they must have completely stored their magazines
afresh. I see, too"--and here the colonial soldier's experienced eye
scanned the defences of the homestead--"that your house is roofed with
zinc; but I do not like the glen in the rear. It is well named the
`Devil's Kloof.' However, you did not choose the site of your farm
yourself, my good brother-soldier, and you will make the best of it, and
give your enemy a good peppering from the loops."
So saying, he entered the house, where he was introduced to the two
officers, who, on hearing that their regiment was the one selected for
garrison duty, resolved on not rejoining it at present. It was clear
they could be useful to their host, and had more chance of smelling
gunpowder where they were than if they returned to their corps.
Such refreshment as the times allowed was spread in the darkened
eating-room for Captain Ledyard, while his followers bivouacked in
front, and a sheep was killed, skinned, cut up, and eaten, within half
an hour after the arrival of these welcome visitors.
As they were to halt till the cool of the evening, Mr Daveney proposed
that poor May's footsteps should be traced, while the sturdy burghers,
resting on their arms, kept guard over his people; so, with a knowing
old Hottentot, and two Fingoes, the latter on foot, the host and
Frankfort well mounted, pistols in their belts, and rifles slung ready
for use, started for the vley, where Piet had lingered on the midnight
march.