Tyardt van der walt left a widow, two sons--Stephanus and Gideon--who
were twins, and three daughters. As is usual among the Boers, the
daughters married early in life; they have nothing to do with this
story.
The beginning of the quarrel between the twin-brothers dated from years
back--from the time when they went down with a wagon load of game
peltries and other produce to Stellenbosch and there fell in love,
instantaneously and unanimously, with Marta Venter, their fair-haired
cousin, whom they met in the street, coming from Confirmation class.
Stephanus, the elder twin, had a slightly looser and glibber tongue than
Gideon; besides, he was probably not so much in earnest as the latter;
so, other things being equal, his suit was practically bound to prosper.
When, after advantageously selling their load in Cape Town, the
brothers inspanned their wagon and started for home, Stephanus and
fair-haired Marta were engaged to be married and the darkened heart of
Gideon was filled with a love which, in spite of many shocks and
changes, never wholly died out of it.
The wedding took place at the next _Nachtmaal_, Gideon managing, by
means of some pretext, to avoid being present. Soon afterwards old
Tyardt cut off a portion of the farm and handed it over to his married
son, who thereupon built a homestead and began farming on his own
account.
It was some time before Gideon could bring himself to meet his
sister-in-law without embarrassment; however, an accidental event
cleared the way for what appeared to be a complete reconciliation. One
day, when the brothers happened to be camped with their wagons on the
southern bank of the swollen Tanqua River, waiting for the flood to
subside, Stephanus, against his brother's advice, ventured into the
current and was swept away. Gideon dashed in to the rescue and saved
his brother's life at the risk of his own. After this the old friendly
relations were, to all appearances, firmly re-established.
These brothers strikingly resembled each other in both disposition and
appearance. Both were large, handsome, keen-featured men, with flashing
black eyes and choleric tempers. There was only one slight difference
apparent: under strong excitement or deep feeling Gideon became morose
and taciturn,--Stephanus excited and talkative.
Shortly after old Tyardt's death the quarrel broke out afresh. The
portion of the farm assigned to Stephanus was secured to him by will;
the remaining extent was bequeathed to Gideon. The shares of the
daughters in the estate were paid out in stock. Elandsfontein was a
large farm and was naturally divided into two nearly equal parts by a
deep kloof running almost right through it. In dry seasons this kloof
contained no water, but on the side which had been assigned to Stephanus
there was a small spring situated in a rocky depression which was filled
with scrubby bush. From this a pure, cool stream flowed. Immediately
after issuing from the scrub this stream lost itself in a swamp; near
its source, however, it had never been known to fail in the most severe
drought.
Although the spring was about a hundred paces from the dividing line, a
clause had been inserted in the will of old Tyardt, in terms of which
the water was to be held as common property between the owners of the
farm; thus stock from Gideon's land were to be allowed to drink at the
spring whenever circumstances required.
Within a very few years after old Tyardt's death the land was smitten by
a heavy drought and the Elandsfontein spring soon proved unequal to the
demands made upon it from both sides. Then strife of the most
embittered description resulted between the brothers. The dispute was
the subject of a law suit before the Supreme Court at Cape Town, but no
satisfactory settlement was arrived at. As a matter of fact--owing to
the clumsiness with which the will was drawn--no settlement was possible
without concessions on both sides, and neither brother would concede so
much as a hair's breadth.
The feud between the brothers became a scandal to the neighbourhood; in
fact they could hardly meet without insulting each other grossly. On
several occasions they had come to blows. The climax was reached when,
in response to a formal call, they appeared before the court of elders
of the Dutch Reformed Church at Stellenbosch. After due enquiry had
been made into the causes of the quarrel the brothers were called upon
to tender hands to each other in token of reconciliation. This they
both refused, in insulting terms, to do. Then the sacred and highly
respectable precincts of the vestry became the scene of an unseemly
brawl, and the brothers were formally excommunicated.
Some time before this, and shortly before matters became hopelessly
embittered, Gideon had married Aletta du Val, the daughter of a
neighbouring farmer. There was little love on Gideon's side, for he had
never got over his first passion for his fair-haired cousin.
One fateful morning in early summer Gideon placed the saddle upon his
horse, took down from the rack his long-barrelled "roer," his bandolier
of greased bullets and his powder-horn, and started for a ride along the
western boundary of his farm.
His flock of flat-tailed sheep were kraaled at an outpost which was in
charge of a Hottentot herd, and he wished to count them. This flock was
in the habit of drinking every morning at the stream which had caused so
much strife, for the weather had been dry for some months, and the
rivulet which sometimes ran in the dividing kloof had long since
disappeared.
The day was hot, but not oppressively so. Every now and then a breeze
sweet with suggestion of the distant western ocean would breathe
refreshingly over the arid land, acting like a tonic on all who inhaled
it.
The tulip-like cups of the sweet-scented gethyllis blossomed out in rich
masses from the hot sand on the wayside, the wild notes of the chanting
falcon seemed to fill the sky as the birds circled round the highest
points of the cliffs that flanked the valley; the hoarse call of the
sentinel baboons echoed from the black bluffs.
On reaching the kraal Gideon found that the sheep had been turned out
earlier than usual. Then he rode to the spring and found it evidenced
by the spoor, which lay thick about the water's edge, that the flock had
already been watered. Wondering at the reason for this manifestation of
activity on the part of the usually-lazy Hottentot herd, he lit his pipe
and stood for a moment or two enjoying the cool shade which surrounded
the spring, after the heat of the ride.
A slight sound caused him to turn his head and then he saw old Gert
Dragoonder, the herd, step out from the cover behind him. Gert had been
on the point of falling asleep when his master's arrival had startled
him.
After ascertaining from the Hottentot that the flock of sheep were
grazing safely behind the big bluff--well away from the dividing line--
Gideon handed over to him his horse and told him to take the animal up
to the sheep kraal and fasten it to a bush. The sea-breeze was
freshening and he meant, when the air became cooler, to take a turn on
foot among the rocks high up on the mountain side, in the hope of
getting a shot at a rhebok. Gideon lay back under a bush and finished
his pipe; then he turned upon his side and fell asleep.
He awoke to the sound of a foot step and opened his eyes. Before him,
on the other side of the spring, he could see Stephanus, who had just
dismounted from his horse. The animal began to graze, its bridle hung
and trailed upon the ground as it wandered on, cropping the herbage,
until it crossed the dividing kloof. When the animal had passed well
over the boundary Gideon arose stealthily, seized his gun and hurried
towards the horse with the intention of seizing it. But Stephanus, who
now noticed his brother for the first time, rushed forward and grappled
with him, and the two fell struggling to the ground.
Stephanus, being slightly the stronger of the two, managed to get Gideon
under; then he twisted the gun from his adversary's grasp, sprang away
to one side and looked back with a mocking smile.
Stephanus cocked the gun and again looked at Gideon who, having risen to
his feet, was trembling and livid with rage. Stephanus knew that he had
the law on his side; it had been laid down in the judgment of the court
that although Gideon had the right to drive his stock to drink at the
spring, he had no right to approach it for any other purpose. Up to
this not a word had been spoken; Gideon was foaming with impotent fury;
Stephanus, feeling that he was master of the situation, had managed to
keep his anger within bounds.
"See the Jackal caught in his own trap," he tauntingly shouted. "_My_
Hottentot wants an old gun to shoot baboons with; this one will just
do."
"You are nothing but a bastard jackal, yourself," yelled Gideon in
reply. "You are very brave because you have my gun in your hand; put it
down and I will take that dirty beard of yours to stuff my saddle with--
if it would not give the horse a sore back."
Stephanus, now in a transport of ungovernable fury, flung the gun away
from him,--into the scrub,--and sprang towards his brother. But the
gun, after crashing through the branches, went off, and Gideon fell to
the ground with his shoulder torn open by the bullet.
Stephanus, his anger now completely gone, and feeling as if the events
of the past few minutes had completely wiped out the black rancour which
had darkened so many years, knelt at the side of his unconscious brother
and cut away the coat and shirt from the neighbourhood of the wound.
Then he tried to staunch the flowing blood with strips of cloth which he
tore from his own garments.
The wound was a terrible one; the bone had been splintered, and portions
of it were visible at the spot where the bullet had emerged. Stephanus
made balls of moss which he tied up in linen rags and bound over the
gaping mouths of the hurt. Then he fetched water in his hat from the
spring and flung it into the pallid face of the sufferer, who thereupon
slowly began to revive.
When Gideon opened his eyes they rested upon his brother's face for a
few seconds without recognition, and then an expression of the most
bitter hatred dawned upon his countenance and gradually distorted his
features until they became almost unrecognisable. The sound of
approaching footsteps was heard, and immediately afterwards Gert
Dragoonder appeared. The Hottentot had seen Stephanus approach the
spring and then, after a short interval, heard the shot, so he returned
to see what had happened. When Gideon saw Gert, he raised himself
painfully on the elbow of his uninjured arm and gasped out in a voice
horrible to hear:--
"Gert--come here--you are my witness--the man, there--my brother--he
shot me.--There lies my gun in the bush--he threw it there to hide it--I
shall die of this.--Go to the Field Cornet--He tried to murder me--I am
already a dead man.--He must hang--"
Here he fell back once more in a faint Stephanus turned to the Hottentot
who, thinking that his master was dead, was stealing away with the
keenest terror depicted on his countenance.
"Here, Gert,--take my horse and ride to the homestead--tell your
mistress to send men with poles and sacks, and to send for Uncle
Diederick at once. Wait,--when you have told the mistress, ride off
yourself on my horse as fast as you can for Uncle Diederick."
Uncle Diederick was an old Boer who lived about half a day's journey
away,--to the westward, and who had a reputation which extended all over
the country side as a bone-setter and herbalist.
The Hottentot galloped off, and Stephanus again turned to the wounded
man, who by this time had recovered consciousness. When Gideon's glance
again fell upon his brother's face, his features, already twisted by the
agony which he endured, took on an expression of diabolical malice,
fearful to behold. Stephanus spoke gently to him once or twice, asking
if he were comfortable, but Gideon closed his eyes and maintained an
obstinate silence.
After about an hour had elapsed a party of people from the homestead
arrived, carrying poles, skins and sacks. Out of these a litter was
soon formed. When Gideon was lifted from the ground he groaned in
anguish and half-swooned. Again he rallied, and his eyes, blazing with
hate, fell again upon his brother.
"Remember"--he gasped--"if I die, he shot me.--There lies my gun--he
threw it there to hide it--"
Gideon insisted on the gun being sought for and removed from the scrub
before he was borne away, groaning and cursing, upon the improvised
litter. Stephanus attempted to accompany him, but was driven away with
imprecations.
Stephanus returned to the spring and sat down on a stone, his head bowed
over his clasped hands. He sat in this posture for some time; then he
arose, stood erect for a few moments and fell upon his knees. The
crisis of his life had come upon him; he stood upon that spiritual
eminence from which men see good and evil and must distinguish one from
another as clearly as one distinguishes night from day. The tangled
sophistry which his mixed motives weave to blind the wrong-doer, who
often would fain do right if he but knew how, was cut by the sword to
which the Apostle of the Gentiles likened the Word of God. It was his
Day of Judgment; he was the judge, the accuser and the accused.
When Stephanus van der Walt arose from his knees he felt that his sins
had fallen from him as the slough falls from a snake when the sun of
Spring wakens it from its winter sleep. His heart was burning with a
deep and fearful joy,--his brain was braced with giants' strength to a
sublime resolve.
In the exaltation of his newly acquired faith Stephanus knew for a
certainty that Gideon would not die of the accidentally inflicted wound,
and he thanked God for the agony that would purge his brother's soul of
its share in the mutual sin.
Then, with head erect and springing steps he wended his way homewards.