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

did you come by it?" asked Junkie, looking grave with difficulty.

"Well, it ain't easy to say exactly. You see it was getting dark at the time, and I was doin' my best to drive a thief of a _h_ox down a place in the kloof where it had to stand upright, a'most, on its front-legs, with its tail whirlin' in the _h_air. An' I 'adn't much time to waste neither, for I knew there was Kafirs all about, an' the troops was gettin' a'ead of me, an' my 'oss was tied to a yellow-wood tree at the foot o' the kloof, an' I began to feel sort o' skeery with the gloomy thickets all around, an' rugged precipices lookin' as if they'd tumble on me, an' the great mountains goin' up to 'eaven--oh! I can tell you it was--it was--"

"In short, the most horrible sight you ever saw," said Junkie, drawing his blanket tighter round his shoulders, and crouching nearer to the bulky form of Scholtz for protection from the wind which was rising.

"Yes, Junkie, it was--the most 'orrible sight I ever saw, for wild savageness, so I drew my sword and gave the _h_ox a prog that sent 'im 'ead over 'eels down the kloof w'ere 'e broke 'is back. Just at that werry moment--would you mind takin' your toe out o' my neck, Junkie? it ain't comfortable: thank you.--Well, as I was sayin', at that very moment I spied a black fellow stealin' away in the direction of my 'oss. He saw me too, but thought I didn't see _'im_. Up I jumps, an' run for the 'oss. Up 'e jumps an' run likewise. But I was nearer than 'im, an' a deal faster--though I don't mean to boast--"

"An' a deal frighteneder," suggested Junkie.

"P'raps, 'owever I got to the 'oss first. I didn't take time to mount, but went leap-frog over 'is tail slap into the saddle, which gave the hold 'oss such a skeer that 'e bolted! The Kafir 'e gave a yell an' sent 'is assagai after me, an' by bad luck I looks round just as it went past an' all but took off the point of my nose. Wasn't it unlucky?"

"Unlucky! you ungrateful man," growled Scholtz. "You should be ver' glad de assagai did not stick you in de neck like von zow.--Is zat rain vich I feels in ze back of mine head?"

"Like enough. There's plenty of it, anyhow," said Junkie, trying to peer through the gloom in the direction of the tents occupied by a small body of regular troops which accompanied them.

As he did so a sudden squall struck the tents, levelling two with the ground, and entirely whisking off one, which, after making a wild circle in the air, was launched over a precipice into thick darkness, and never more seen!

Lying under another bush, not far distant, Considine and Hans lay crouched together for the purpose at once of keeping each other warm and presenting the smallest possible amount of surface to the weather. They did not sleep at first, and being within earshot of the bush under which the brothers Skyd had sheltered themselves, found sufficient entertainment in listening to their conversation.

"We scarce counted on this sort of thing," said John Skyd, "when, fifteen years ago, we left the shores of old England for `Afric's southern wilds.'"

"That's true, Jack," was Bob Skyd's reply, "and I sometimes think it would have been better if we had remained at home."

"Craven heart! what do you mean?" demanded James.

"Ay, what do you mean?" repeated Dobson; "will nothing convince you? It is true we made a poor job of the farming, owing to our ignorance, but since we took to merchandise have we not made a good thing of it--ain't it improving every day, and won't we rise to the very pinnacle of prosperity when this miserable war is over."

"Supposing that we are not killed in the mean-time," said Stephen Orpin, who formed one of the group.

"That is a mere truism, and quite irrelevant," retorted Dobson.

"Talking of irrelevant matters, does any one know why Sandy Black and McTavish did not come with Groot Willem?" asked Orpin.

To this John Skyd replied that he had heard some one say a party of the Glen Lynden men had gone off to root out a nest of freebooters under that scoundrel Ruyter, who, taking advantage of the times, had become more ferocious and daring than ever.

"Yet some say," observed Dobson, "that the Hottentot robber is becoming religious or craven-hearted, I don't know which."

"Perhaps broken-hearted," suggested Orpin.

"Perhaps. Anyhow it is said his followers are dissatisfied with him for some reason or other. He does not lead them so well as he was wont to."

While the white men were thus variously engaged in jesting over their discomforts, or holding more serious converse, their sable enemies were preparing for them a warm reception in the neighbouring pass. But both parties were checked and startled by the storm which presently burst over them. At first the thunder-claps were distant, but by degrees they came nearer, and burst with deafening crash, seemingly close overhead, while lightning ran along the earth like momentary rivulets of fire. At the same time the windows of heaven were opened, and rain fell in waterspouts, drenching every one to the skin.

The storm passed as suddenly as it came, and at daybreak was entirely gone, leaving a calm clear sky.

Sleepy, wet, covered with mud, and utterly miserable, the party turned out of their comfortless bivouac, and, after a hasty meal of cold provisions, resumed their march up the kloof.

At the narrowest part of it, some of the troops were sent in advance as skirmishers, and the ambush was discovered. Even then they were in an awkward position, and there can be no question that if the natives had been possessed of fire-arms they would have been cut off to a man. As it was, the savages came at them with dauntless courage, throwing their assagais when near enough, and hurling stones down from the almost perpendicular cliffs on either side. But nothing could resist the steady fire of men who were, most of them, expert shots. Few of the white men were wounded, but heaps of the Kafirs lay dead on each other ere they gave way and retreated before a dashing charge with the bayonet.

Oh! it was a sad sight,--sad to see men in the vigorous health of early youth and the strong powers of manhood's prime cast lifeless on the ground and left to rot there for the mistaken idea on the Kafirs' part that white men were their natural enemies, when, in truth, they brought to their land the comforts of civilised life; sad to think that they had died for the mistaken notion that their country was being taken from them, when in truth they had much more country than they knew what to do with--more than was sufficient to support themselves and all the white men who have ever gone there, and all that are likely to go for many years to come; sad to think of the stern necessity that compelled the white men to lay them low; sadder still to think of the wives and mothers, sisters and little ones, who were left to wail unavailingly for fathers and brothers lost to them for ever; and saddest of all to remember that it is not merely the naked savage in his untutored ignorance, but the civilised white man in his learned wisdom, who indulges in this silly, costly, murderous, brutal, and accursed game of war!

Returning from the fight next day with a large herd of captured cattle, the contingent found that Hintza had agreed unconditionally to all the proposals made to him by the Governor; among others that he should restore to the colonists 50,000 head of cattle and 1000 horses,--one half to be given up at once, the remainder in the course of a year.

The deceitful chief was thus ready in his acquiescence, simply because he had no intention whatever of fulfilling his engagements. To blind his white enemies the more effectually, he himself offered to remain in the camp as a hostage, with his followers. Two other chiefs, Kreli and Booko, also joined him. This seemingly gracious conduct won for Hintza so much confidence that orders were immediately given to evacuate his territory. He became the guest of Colonel Smith, and the Governor presented him with numerous conciliatory gifts. Thereafter the camp was broken up and the Governor took his departure.

No sooner was his back turned than Hintza's people commenced a general massacre of the Fingoes. About thirty were murdered in cold blood near to Colonel Somerset's camp.

Full of indignation, when he heard this, the Governor summoned Hintza to his presence and related what had occurred.

"Well, and what then?" was the Kafir's cool reply, "are they not my dogs?"

Sir Benjamin met this by giving orders that Hintza and all the people with him should be put under guard, and held as hostages for the safety of the Fingoes. He instantly despatched messengers to stop the carnage, and said that if it continued after three hours he would shoot two of Hintza's suite for every Fingo killed. He added, moreover, that if he found there was any subterfuge in the message they sent--as he had discovered to have been the case in former messages--he would hang Hintza, Kreli, and Booko on the tree under which they were sitting.

In less than ten minutes the messengers of the chiefs were scampering off at full speed in different directions with orders! So potent was the power of this vigorous treatment that within the short time specified the massacre was stopped.

But the Governor knew well the character of the men with whom he had to deal. To have left the Fingoes in their hands after this would have been tantamount to condemning them to suffer the revengeful wrath of their cruel masters, who would no doubt have resumed the massacre the instant the troops were withdrawn. Sir Benjamin therefore collected them together, along with the few missionaries and other British subjects who had found temporary refuge at the station of Clarkeburg. He placed them under the care of the Reverend Mr Ayliffe, for whom the Fingoes expressed sincere regard, and transported the whole body in safety across the Kei.

"An amazing sight," observed Charlie Considine to a knot of his comrades, as they reined up on the top of a knoll, and watched the long line of Fingoes defiling before him like an antediluvian black snake trailing its sinuous course over the land, with a little knot of red-coats in front, looking like its fiery head, and sundry groups of burghers, and other troops, here and there along its body, like parti-coloured legs and claws. The length of this mighty snake may be estimated when it is said that of the Fingo nation not fewer than 2000 men, 5600 women, and 9200 children, with 22,000 cattle, were led across the Kei into the colony at that time.

The whole scene, with its multitudinous details, was a commingling of the ludicrous, the touching, and the sublime. It was mirth-provoking to observe the wild energy of the coal-black men, as they sprang from side to side, with shield and assagai, driving in refractory cattle; the curious nature of the bundles borne by many