Read Perils in the Transvaal and Zululand Page 37

haverenewed the mischief almost as bad as ever. I have no doubt, however,that now that the struggle has come to an end, quiet and security oflife and property will be reestablished. But you need not be afraid, Ithink, for your waggons. You do not seem to be aware that a bridge overthe river has been recently made, and there is a good road from it allthe way to Standerton. I shall be pleased to show it to you to-morrow.It is one of the boons for which we have to thank the EnglishGovernment."

  Vander Heyden made no reply, but once more bowed and took his leave.

  Rivers and Hardy looked at one another and smiled.

  "What a pity it is that he dislikes the English so!" said the latter."He really is a fine fellow--brave and generous and honest, and full ofkindness to every one, except an Englishman."

  "We ought to feel it all the more a compliment that he is so civil tous. I suppose there must have been some very great wrong done to hisfather by our countrymen," said George.

  "To his grandfather first, and then to his father," said Hardy. "Hisgrandfather was one of those who rebelled when they found that thecountry had been permanently handed over to the English after the fallof Napoleon. He was taken prisoner with arms in his hands, and washanged like any highwayman. His son migrated to Natal, and was againdriven out by the English, when they annexed the colony. Proceedingswere taken against him which were extremely harsh, and he died, as Ihave heard, of a broken heart. His son, our friend Henryk, got togetherall he could of his father's property, and withdrew into the Transvaal;where he bought a farm, but left it in charge of an agent, while hehimself served in the Dutch army for several years. The annexation ofthe country by the English, three or four years ago, was the last dropin the cup of his indignation. He had returned to the Transvaal, havingbecome wealthy again, partly by his deputy's successful farming, partlythrough money left him by his uncle, Van Courtlandt. He went again toEurope, to try if he could not procure the repeal of the Act ofAnnexation. He has come back now, bitterly disappointed at his failure.It is no wonder, I must say, that he cannot endure the English."

  The host now informed them that supper was ready, and they took theirplaces at the table. After the meal Annchen withdrew for the night, andthe rest of the party, gathering round the hearth, for the rain and windhad made the air chilly, smoked their pipes and drank their host'sSchiedam at their ease.

  "If you would excuse my curiosity, sir," said Hardy after a while, "Ishould like to know what brought you into these parts. You are, I thinkyou said, an Englishman. But--"

  "But I don't look as though I had lived in England,--that is what youmean, I think? Well, I'll tell you my history. It illustrates what wewere talking of at dinner,--as to what is the truth respecting thetreatment of the natives by the Boers. My father and mother wereEnglish. They came out to the Cape Colony somewhere about 1830, andthey settled on a farm in Namaqualand. It didn't pay. Their cattlewere continually driven off by the bushmen, and their fruit plunderedand their guns and hoes and the like stolen by the Hottentots. Nothingthey could do would prevent it. The native servants were often as notin league with the thieves. Every now and then they would run off andtake anything of value with them."

  "As for the cattle-stealing," remarked George, "that is an old story. Aman must be a good deal wiser than I am who can say how it is to beprevented. But I wonder, I must say, if you treated the Hottentotswell, as I have no doubt you did, that they didn't stay with you."

  "Perhaps they might," said Prestcott, which they afterwards found to betheir host's name,--"perhaps they might, if they had been left tothemselves. But there were always a lot of Hottentots going loose aboutthe country; and they threatened our servants with their vengeance ifthey didn't give them food and drink. They didn't dare refuse, and thenthey expected to be severely punished, and ran off. Anyhow, theycouldn't keep any servants, and their property was continually pillaged.They must have left the country if they had lived. But one day myfather was speared by a party of bushmen, whom he had caught driving offa bull. My mother, who had seen the transaction, ran screaming out, andthey speared her too. They then entered and pillaged the house. I wasa child of eight years old, and they no doubt would have killed me alongwith my parents, if it hadn't occurred to them that old Potgieter, aBoer farmer a few miles off, would give them something handsome for me.They took me to him, and he did buy me."

  "You don't mean that he bought you of them, knowing how they had come byyou?" exclaimed Redgy, horror-stricken.

  "No, sir. They were too clever to tell him that, and he was too cleverto ask. They merely said they had found me, and they believed my fatherand mother were dead."

  "And they had excellent reasons for believing so," remarked Redgy.

  "True, sir. Well, old Herman Potgieter took pity on me, as he waspleased to express it. He took me over to the field-cornet's house, andapprenticed me, after their fashion, to himself, until I should beone-and-twenty years old."

  "Ay, I have heard of that before I left England," remarked Margetts."But I thought the age was five-and-twenty, and it was further remarkedthat it was astonishing how long these apprentices are in reaching theirfive-and-twentieth year."

  "Just so, sir. The natives seldom know how old they are; indeed, theyare seldom able to keep any account of time; and they are obliged toprove that they are five-and-twenty before they can claim their freedom.I have known a native kept in service until he was nearly forty. Butthough I was not nine years old before I was taken before thefield-cornet, I knew something of their ways, having heard my fathertalk about it. I produced a Prayer-Book he had given me on my eighthbirthday, insisting upon it that in a little more than twelve years'time I should be free. I suppose when they found out I was really anEnglish boy, on my father's side at all events, they were a littlefrightened, and thought it best to be cautious."

  "I have no doubt of it," assented Hardy. "I suppose you took good careof your Prayer-Book?"

  "Old Potgieter contrived to get hold of that," said Prestcott; "but Iwas not to be beaten. The house where my father had lived stood only afew miles off, or rather had once stood, for no one had lived theresince it had been wrecked by the Hottentots, and it was a mere ruin.But I knew my father had buried a box under the stone paving in onecorner of the room, and that it contained among other articles mybaptismal certificate. One day, when I wanted but a few weeks ofbecoming one-and-twenty, I took a pick-axe with me, went over to my oldhome, and dug up the box. There was my baptismal certificate, sureenough, and a good bit of money besides, as well as shares in an Englishcompany at Cape Town. I put these back into the box, which I buriedagain, but I took the certificate with me, and on my twenty-firstbirthday went over to the field-cornet's again. Old Potgieter thoughthe had destroyed the evidence of my age, and was dumb-foundered when hesaw the signatures to the papers, and durst say no more.

  "I repossessed myself of my money and shares, and sold the latter atCape Town, where they fetched a good price. Then I bought this landhere and built this house, where I have lived ever since. I married,but never had any children. A few years ago my wife died, and I havenever cared to marry again."

  "What became of old Potgieter, the old wretch?" inquired Redgy.

  "Poor old Potgieter!" said Prestcott. "He wasn't unkind to me afterall; and when I heard how barbarously he had been murdered, I was as hotas any one to punish his slayers."

  "How was he murdered?" inquired Hardy.

  "He was making a journey somewhere, I forget where. It was only fortrading purposes, but I suppose the Kaffir chief, near whose kraal hehalted for the night, thought otherwise. And it can't be denied thatthere was some reason for his thinking so. Old Potgieter had been on agreat many commandos, and had killed more natives than he would findeasy to reckon up. Makapan, as the chief was called, attacked the campby night and killed them all. I have been told that they flayed himalive, and the story was generally believed, though I have great doubtswhether it was true. The Dutch, when they heard of it, ordered
ageneral commando, which was joined by a large party of Potgieter'srelatives and friends, and I, as I told you, went with them. We wereseveral hundreds in number, with waggons containing military stores, anda cannon or two. Makapan and his tribe were quite unable to resist.They retired into the broken country adjoining the kraal, and thereassailed us with arrows and assegays from behind their rocky fastnesses.But we continually forced them back; and at last they retired into acavern, which was some hundred yards in depth, and so dark that it wasimpossible to see anything, except close at hand."

  "It wouldn't have done to have followed them there," said George. "Youwould have been an easy mark for their