The Settler and the Savage - Robert Michael Ballantyne (reading a book .txt) 📗

here and there where succour was most needed.

With this little patrol, Hans, Gertie, and Considine bivouacked that night, and, travelling with them, soon afterwards reached Grahamstown.

The sight of the country as they approached was a sad one. From all quarters, men, women, children, vehicles, horses, cattle, and sheep, were crowding into the town as a place of refuge. At first the settlers nearest the eastern frontier, taken by surprise, fled to temporary rallying-points. These, however, had to be abandoned for stronger places of refuge. On entering the town they found that the greatest confusion and excitement prevailed. The church had been set apart as an asylum for the women and children, who had to put up, however, with the undesirable accompaniments of fire-arms and gunpowder. Public meetings were being held; picquets of armed citizens were being despatched to watch the main roads. All the houses were thronged to suffocation with refugees--white, brown, and black. The streets, squares, yards, gardens, and other vacant places were crowded by night, and the surrounding hills by day, with the flocks and herds that had been saved from the invaders, while the lowing and bleating of these were mingled with the sobs and wails of the widow and fatherless.

"What misery!" exclaimed Gertie, as she rode slowly through the crowds by the side of her husband, mounted on a horse lent her by one of the patrol, "Oh, how I dread to hear the news from home!"

Gertie referred to her father's home, about the condition of which she knew nothing at the time.

"Where shall we go to seek for news?" she asked anxiously.

"To the barracks," replied Hans.

"You need not be anxious, I think," said Considine; "if anything very serious had happened, it is likely the patrol who rescued us would have heard some account of it before leaving Grahamstown.

"Don't you think?" he added, turning to Hans, "that we had better inquire first at Dobson's place?"

At that moment they were passing a large store, over the door of which was a blue board with the words "Dobson, Skyd, and Company" emblazoned in large white letters thereon.

The store itself presented in its windows and interior an assortment of dry goods, so extensive and miscellaneous as to suggest the idea of one being able to procure anything in it--from a silk dress to a grindstone. It was an extremely full, prosperous-looking store, and in the midst of it were to be seen, sitting on the counters, James and Robert Skyd, both looking bluffer and stronger than when we last met them, though scarcely a day older. James and Robert were the managing partners of this prosperous firm; Dobson and John Skyd were what the latter styled the hunting partners. Robert Skyd had recently married a pretty Grahamstown girl, and her little boy--then about one year old--was, so said his father, the sleeping partner of the firm, who had been vaguely hinted at by the "Company" long before he was born. Indeed, the "Company" had been prudently inserted with special reference to what might "turn up" in after years. At the time the firm was formed, it had been suggested that it should be styled Dobson, Skyd, and Sons, but as it was possible nothing but daughters might fall to the lot of any of them, "Company" was substituted as being conveniently indefinite. Dobson took precedence in the title in virtue of his having brought most capital into the firm. He had invested his all in it--amounting to three pounds four and nine-pence halfpenny. John Skyd had contributed half-a-crown, which happened to be a bad one. James brought nothing at all, and Robert entered it a little in debt for tobacco.

The great waggon of the hunting partners, loaded with hides, horns, and ivory, stood at the door of the store, as Gertie and her protectors passed, having just arrived from a successful trip into Kafirland, and fortunately escaped the outbreak of the war.

Fastening their bridles to one of its wheels, Hans, Gertie, and Considine entered. The first face they saw was that of Edwin Brook, into whose arms Gertie ran with a wild cry of joy.

"Why, Hans Marais!" cried James Skyd, jumping off the counter and grasping his big friend by the hand, while Robert seized that of Considine, "where have you dropped from?--But I need scarcely ask, for all the world seems to be crowding into the town. Not hurt, I hope?" he added, observing the blood which stained his friend's dress.

"Not in person," answered Hans, with a smile, returning his cordial grasp.

"And what of property!" asked Edwin Brook, looking round.

"All gone," returned Hans sadly. "I rose this morning a reasonably wealthy man--now, I am a beggar. But tell me, what of your family, Mr Brook?"

"All saved, thank God," was the reply. "Junkie, dear boy, who is the most active young fellow in the land, managed to--Ah! here he comes, and will speak for himself."

As he spoke a tall strapping youth of about fifteen entered, opened wide his laughing blue eyes on seeing Hans, and, after a hearty greeting, told with some hesitation that he had chanced to be out hunting on foot in the jungles of the Great Fish River when the Kafirs crossed the frontier, and had managed, being a pretty good runner, to give his father warning, so that the family had time to escape. He did _not_ tell, however, that he had, in a narrow pass, kept above sixty Kafirs in check with his own hand and gun until George Dally could run to the house for his weapons and ammunition, and that then the two held a hundred of them in play long enough to permit of the whole family escaping under the care of Scholtz.

"But," said Edwin Brook, who related all this with evident satisfaction, "I am like yourself, Hans, in regard to property. Mount Hope is a blackened ruin, the farm is laid waste, and the cattle are over the borders."

"And where is Mrs Brook?" asked Considine.

"In this house. Up-stairs. Come, Gertie is getting impatient. Let us go to see her."

"Now, friends," said Considine to the brothers Skyd, who had by that time been joined by the hunting partners, "there is a matter on which we must consult and act without delay."

Here he told of Conrad Marais's departure with the boers across the frontier, and added that if the party was to be saved at all it must be gone about instantly.

"You can't go about it to-day, Charlie," said John Skyd, "so don't give way to impatience. For such a long trip into the enemy's country we must go well armed and supplied."

"I will brook no delay," said Considine, with flushing countenance. "If it had not been for the necessity of bringing Gertie here in safety, Hans and I would have set out at once and alone on their spoor. Is it not so?"

Hans nodded assent.

"No, friends," he said, turning to the brothers with decision, "we must be off at once."

"What! without your suppers?" exclaimed Bob Skyd; "but to be serious, it won't be possible to get things ready before to-morrow. Surely that will do, if we start at daybreak. Besides, the party with your father, Hans, is a strong one, well able to hold out against a vastly superior force of savages. Moreover, if you wait we shall get up a small body of volunteers."

Hans and Charlie were thus constrained unwillingly to delay. At grey dawn, however, they rode out of Grahamstown at the head of a small party, consisting of the entire firm of Dobson and Skyd, inclusive of Junkie, whose father granted him permission to go. His mother silently acquiesced. Mrs Scholtz violently protested; and when she found that her protests were useless, she changed them into pathetic entreaties that Junkie would on no account whatever go to sleep in camp with wet feet.

As soon as the invasion took place, an express had been sent to Capetown, and the able Governor, Sir Benjamin D'Urban, took instant and energetic measures to undo, as far as possible, the mischief done by his predecessors. Colonel (afterwards Sir Harry) Smith was despatched to the frontier, and rode the distance--six hundred miles--in six days.

Arriving in Grahamstown, he took command with a firm hand, organised the whole male population into a warlike garrison, built barricades across the streets, planted cannon in commanding positions, cleared the town of flocks and herds, which were breeding a nuisance, sent them to the open country with a cattle guard, and prepared not only to defend the capital, but to carry war into the enemy's country. In short, he breathed into the people much of his own energy, and soon brought order out of confusion.

The state of affairs in the colony had indeed reached a terrible pass. From all sides news came in of murder and pillage. The unfortunate traders in Kafirland fared ill at that time. One of these, Rodgers, was murdered in the presence of his three children. A man named Cramer was savagely butchered while driving a few cattle along the road. Another, named Mahony, with his wife and son-in-law, were intercepted while trying to escape to the military post of Kafir Drift, and Mahony was stretched a corpse at his wife's feet, then the son-in-law was murdered, but Mrs Mahony escaped into the bush with two of her children and a Hottentot female servant, and, after many hardships, reached Grahamstown. A mounted patrol scouring the country fell in with a farm-house where three Dutchmen, in a thick clump of bushes, were defending themselves against three hundred Kafirs. Of course the latter were put to flight, and the three heroes--two of them badly wounded-- were rescued. Nearly everywhere the settlers, outnumbered, had to fly, and many were slain while defending their homes, but at the little village of Salem they held their ground gallantly. The Wesleyan chapel, mission-house, and schoolhouse, were filled with refugees, and although the Kafirs swooped down on it at night in large numbers and carried off the cattle, they failed to overcome the stout defenders. Theopolis also held out successfully against them--and so did the Scottish party at Baviaans River, although attacked and harassed continually.

During an attack near the latter place a Scottish gentleman of the Pringle race had a narrow escape. Sandy Black was with him at the time. Three or four Kafirs suddenly attacked them. Mr Pringle shot one, Sandy wounded another. A third ran forward while Pringle was loading and threw an assagai at him. It struck him with great force on the leathern bullet-pouch which hung at his belt. Sandy Black took aim at the savage with a pistol.

"Aim low, Sandy," said Pringle, continuing to load.

Sandy obeyed and shot the Kafir dead, then, turning round, said anxiously--

"Are 'ee stickit, sir?"

"I'm not sure, Sandy," replied Pringle, putting his hand in at the waist of his trousers, "there's blood, I see."

On examination it was found that the assagai had been arrested by the strong pouch and belt, and had only given him a trifling scratch, so that the gallant and amiable Mr Dods Pringle lived to fight in future Kafir wars. [See Note 1.]

In another place, near the Kat River, thirty men were attacked by a hundred and fifty Kafirs.