Before leaving Bloemfontein we met two fellow passengers of ours on the
_Trojan_. They were brothers, and one was so ill that we never expected
to see him again in this life, when lo! here he was the picture of
health, entirely owing, he said, to the wonderful effects of the
climate. By living and travelling for over six months in an ox-wagon,
he declared, he had taken a new lease of life. Despite the fact of our
lives having been insured in America, we thought that a new lease would
be a comfortable thing to have by us. So we made up our minds to try
the experiment.
It was not an easy thing to find a wagon which we could hire for the
trip, but fortune favoured us. Mr A--met an English friend, Mr
Heeler, from Pretoria, who had, like many others, managed to escape with
his portable property and his wagon before the Boers beleaguered the
town. He was undecided what to do until the difficulties were over, and
soon consented, in consideration of a fair daily hire, to place his
wagon and span of sixteen oxen at our disposal.
We provided ourselves with serviceable clothing, and were each measured
by the local cobbler for a pair of strong, thick, laced shoes. But when
the boy brought them in, we gazed at them for a moment, and then
politely told him that some mistake must have been made, for none of our
family wore number eight! They were monstrous.
But we were to leave the following day, and had to take them. We
stuffed the toes and overlapped the leather when tying them up. We
found, before we had been many days on the road, that our cowhide boots
could brave anything, and were infinitely better for what we wanted than
a stylish, neatly fitting shoe.
Laying in provisions for the wagon was like victualling a ship for a
voyage. We laughed at the formidable list of canned goods that Mr A--
had provided for our journey. "Good gracious!" we cried, "we can never
eat all that;" but he assured us we should, and added that he expected
to keep us provided with fresh meat with his gun and an occasional sheep
bought from some Boer farmer. He had, however, to provide against
failure in both expectations. Game might be scarce, and there are some
Boers who will not sell anything to an Englishman.
Our wagon was twenty-three feet from end to end, and four feet and a
half wide. With some willow wands and heavy wagon sail an excellent
tent was made, thoroughly waterproof, and divided with a canvas
partition into two compartments. Our trunks were packed on the floor,
over which the beds were suspended on a cartel formed from laced strips
of raw ox-hide.
Our stores were packed in boxes, which were securely fastened around and
under the wagon, together with kettles, pans, and dishes of enamelled
iron. A folding-table, several camp-stools and chairs completed our
equipments, and on a muddy but sunshiny day we left our hotel, bidding
good-by to our friends, and climbed on to our perches on the cartel.
Four black boys, a maid, and two dogs formed our establishment. One of
the large boys took the trek tow, a loose rein on the horns of the two
leading oxen, and another the long-handled, long-thonged whip. There
was a wild yell and a screech from them all, and the oxen started
forward with a lurch that threatened to dislodge every article we had
taken such pains to secure. The wagon slowly rose out of the muddy bed
into which it had sunk during the past week's rain, and getting into the
road, moved at a brisk pace along.
Still brisk as it was the pace was only a walk. We thought we should
never make the two or three hundred miles to Queenstown, at that pace,
by the route we should take. We learned, however, that though slow it
was sure. A team of oxen intelligently driven, and rested at proper
intervals, will make thirty miles a day, week after week, over any sort
of country, a rate of travelling that horses cannot exceed when the
distance is long. At the end of three hours the oxen were outspanned to
graze and the boys prepared our midday meal. The tablecloth was laid,
and that tablecloth was the chief source of our solicitude throughout
the trip. Oh the delight of that first meal! everything tasted so
sweet. Were we not free, free as air, the sky and limitless veldt the
ceiling, walls, and floor of our dining-room, with not a creature in
sight? Our caterer had forgotten nothing that was necessary to make our
meals model entertainments.
After an hour and a half the oxen were slowly driven up to the wagon and
each one took his own proper place, seeming to know his own yoke. We
trekked on over the same level plain, but as evening drew near the sky
assumed a threatening aspect, and it was thought prudent to outspan and
tie up in order to prepare for the reception of the impending storm.
Before the yokes were removed the rain came pouring down in torrents.
The boys dug a trench around the wagon under which they got for shelter,
while we, safe under our waterproof tent, peered out from time to time
at the storm raging around us.
Presently lightning began to flash and the thunder to roar, while the
rain came down in sheets, seeming to transform the open country into a
vast lake. Oh, those dreadful African thunderstorms! We thought _We_
should never see worse storms than those of our Western prairies, but
they were infants in strength compared to those in Africa.
The storm grew fiercer and fiercer, and the lightning seemed to come
from the heavens in all directions in molten streams of fire. The road
was full of ironstone, a peculiarity of the uplands of Africa; this
seemed to attract the lightning, and the air appeared to be full of
fire, accompanied by an ear-piercing crackling and booming that shook
the earth. The atmosphere was black, and the darkness was intensified
by the continual flashes, when suddenly there was a crash and a
deafening roar that made us think the heavens had fallen. Stunned for a
moment we each looked at the other, expecting that the wagon had been
struck, and a great stir and lowing among the trembling oxen increased
our fears.
We sat for half an hour listening to the thunder muttering fainter and
fainter as it rolled away in the distance. The voice of A--summoned us
from the tent. To our surprise we found the sky clear and no trace of
the storm in the heavens, but an inky cloud disappearing far away on the
horizon. About fifty yards ahead of the wagon was a large hole in the
road that had been torn up by the fury of that thunderbolt which had so
terrified us.