VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIX.
IN A NEW LINE.
"Of course you know the place well?"
"Every inch of it. Two thousand _morgen_, rather over. What did yousay Van Rooyen asks for it?"
"Three thousand. Probably he'd take less."
"Far too much. It isn't particularly good veldt; sheep don't do wellthere, and the place is nearly all bush. And then there's that stonyhill right over the river, about one-fifth of the whole area. What sortof house is it?"
"A classic tenement meriting the veneration of the Society for thePreservation of Ancient Buildings."
"Humph! You'd better have nothing to do with the concern."
The above dialogue took place about three weeks after the eventsrecorded in the former chapter, the speakers being Claverton and hishost, who were returning from a ride.
"You have made up your mind to settle here, then?" went on the latter.
"Yes, I've taken rather a fancy to this part of the country."
"H'm! Well now, I'll tell you what I think. Don't you be in too greata hurry to buy; there's nothing like keeping your eyes open a bit first,and biding your time. Plenty of these fellows would be very glad toclear out. The Dutchmen round here are mostly a bankrupt lot, livingfrom hand to mouth, and you'll soon be able to make your own terms andget a much better place than Springkaan's Hoek, which old Van Roozen, bythe way, has done his best to spoil."
"But do you know of another place about here that would be likely tosuit me?"
"Not at present--that is, not one that's in the market. But I've beenthinking, why not stop on here a bit and help me? You'd get intopractice and learn your craft, so to say. You see, at present you knowprecious little about it, though you're quicker at picking up wrinklesthan most new hands who come out. I'm getting old now and am beginningto feel it, and can't look after things as much as I should like them tobe looked after. As for Hicks, he's a smart fellow enough, but then hecan't be everywhere _at_ once, and as it is he has his hands full. Nowbetween you and him, all might be kept going, which would be a greathelp to me, and, as I said before, you would get the experience you wantbefore setting up on your own account. And it's not enough to seethings done, the great thing is to know how to do them yourself. We doa little of everything here, as you see, and I don't think you could bemuch better placed for learning to farm," added the old man, with atouch of pardonable pride.
Claverton readily closed with this offer. Already during his stay hehad done many a hand's turn, helping Hicks to look up missing stock, orseeing to odd jobs about the homestead when that invaluable majordomowas out of the way; and his host's practised eye had gauged hiscapabilities, seeing that he had all the makings of a first-ratecolonist. The advantage of this offer Claverton could tell at a glancewas all on his own side.
"You see," pursued Mr Brathwaite, "farming now is not what it was. Youneedn't expect to make a fortune at it, but still you can always make avery decent living, and then the position is a thoroughly independentone, the life a free and healthy one, you are absolutely your own masterand need care for nobody. Times are very far from what they used to be,I admit; stock is more expensive, and there are more drawbacks in theway of bad seasons, diseases, long droughts and used-up _veldt_; buteven then a good farmer can always manage to keep above water, and in afairly prosperous season can forge ahead. Look at me: I've been burntout, stick and stone, by the Kafirs in three successive wars, and havehad to begin life over again, yet I've always got on. The secret of itis to look after everything yourself. It won't do to set your people towork and go away expecting them to do it, you must off with your jacketand work _with_ them. And you must be here, there, and everywhere atonce, Kafirs want continual looking after; directly they begin to thinkthe `Baas' is getting careless, good-bye to anything going straight. Idon't mean to say that you must always be finding fault with them, theyare naturally stupid devils and you can't make them anything else; butyou can let them see that you've got your eye on them and will stand nononsense. The great thing is to keep your temper with them, and, aboveall, to treat them fairly but firmly. Then again, you must make up yourmind to being out in all weathers. The heavier and the colder therains, the more certain are the Kafirs to huddle in their blankets undera bush or before a fire, and leave the flock to take care of itself.With the result that at nightfall about a third of it is missing andremains out in the _veldt_ for the benefit of the jackals and wolves;what these leave perhaps stray to some Dutchman's place, and when youget them again you find that they are covered with _brand ziekte_ [scab]from his miserable brutes. As I say, there are drawbacks innumerable,but it rests with yourself to minimise them."
"Yes; I quite grasp the situation in all its bearings."
"Very well, then, that's settled, and I think you'll have reason to seethat my plan is the best."
They were nearing home now, and the sun, which was about an hour abovethe horizon, shed a soft, golden lustre upon the broad, sloping plainsand on shining cliff and undulating vale, with many a dark patch offorest here and there. The peak of the Great Winterberg, his snowy capnow removed--sleeping in a filmy haze against the horizon, and the loftybacks of his lesser satellites purple and gold as they stood in theshade or in the sun--formed a grand and effective background to thepicture, the beautiful range stretching from east to west, far as theeye could travel. Beneath lay the homestead, reposing among its shadowytrees, looking the very abode of peace and prosperity. Scarcely abreath of wind to ruffle the balminess of the air, nor a sound to createone, save for the occasional droning hum of some insect, while now andagain the soft mellow note of a hoopoe sounded through the slumbrousdimness of the far distance. Looking upon this vista of rest andstillness, and in the midst of its influences, it was hard to realisethat the red tide of war could ever engulf this fair land, and itsfierce and jarring clangour break rudely upon such quiet calm.
On their return they found a visitor awaiting them. This was one WillJeffreys, a sturdy, broad-shouldered fellow of five-and-twenty, withrather a heavy expression of countenance bordering on the sullen. A manwho was shrewd enough as regarded all matters directly in his line, butwould have a difficulty in grasping a very ordinary joke, and who wastotally deficient in appreciation of aught beyond the humdrum andpractical. A man who might be a good fellow at bottom, but certainlywas a crusty dog on the surface. He was the son of the neighbourreferred to in the foregoing chapter, as having brought the girls toSeringa Vale, and was well-to-do. But in one respect, at least, WillJeffreys wandered out of his natural groove. He had a genuineadmiration for Ethel Brathwaite, whom he had met on previous occasionsof her staying at her uncle's, and though he had returned home only thatmorning, had saddled up his horse and ridden over, under pretext ofconsulting Mr Brathwaite about a certain span of oxen which he thoughtof buying--most transparent of pretexts, which his good-natured fathersaw through at once, and went into fits of laughter over as soon as hishopeful's back was turned.
"Poor Will!" he would say to himself, "he's only singeing his wings. Hehasn't the ghost of a chance in that quarter."
"Poor Will" certainly had not the ghost of a chance, for Ethel in nowise reciprocated his admiration, though she would accept his homagecarelessly and half unconsciously at one time, and ruthlessly snub himat another, particularly when the admiration became too open andundisguised. Now it so happened that that afternoon they had beendiscussing the latest importation in all his bearings, with the resultthat young Jeffreys greeted Claverton with no great show of cordialitywhen the two were introduced. Nor was it increased by Ethel's remark:"At last, Mr Claverton! I thought uncle and you were never comingback. Why, you've been out nearly the whole day."
"Well, Will," said the old settler, heartily. "Had a good trip?"
"Yes, very good on the whole, thanks. It's rather dry up Colesberg way,and the locusts have been bad there, but my oxen were in good order, andI came through quick."
He had just returned from a t
ransport-riding trip up the country.
"H'm! By the way, did your father manage to get back his horses?"
"No. He and Bob followed them as far as Tembani. The fellows had got aforged pass [Note 1] and walked through right under the agent's nose.After that the spoors separated; the thieves had taken two of the horsesin the direction of the Tambookie country, the other towards Sandili's;and, of course, at every kraal they inquired at--for the spoor was soonlost--the headmen did their best to put them on the wrong track,although they set up to be no end sympathetic. We've got a spy down inthe Gaika location, but a fat lot of good he'll do; he's sure to be inleague with the rest," growled Will, who was not in the best of humours.
"No, you can't do much when the whole country is in league against you.We're quite at their mercy. I'm afraid you'll never see a hoof of themagain," said the older man.
"Of course not. Three as good all-round horses as we ever had on theplace, though Bles was a dev--er--a brute for bucking, at times.By-the-bye, Mr Brathwaite, there seems to be an awful lot ofstock-lifting going on just now. Seven of Dirk van Heerden's best cowscleared off last week, and not a head of them has he been able to getback, except one which had dislocated its shoulder, and the niggersassegaied it to save its life."
"Well, it's time to count the sheep. You'll stay to night, Will?"
He was delighted.
"Er--thanks--I--er, that is--"
"All right. Better put your horse in the enclosure; only mind thebird."
"How tiresome that Will Jeffreys is getting!" remarked Ethel thatevening, as some of them were standing outside in the garden. "Listento him prosing away in there."
"Ssh! He'll hear you," said Laura.
"I don't much care. He comes over to see us, and instead of trying toamuse one he bores us with tiresome yarns about this Dutchman losing hiscows and that Dutchman finding his horses."
"But what on earth do you want him to tell you about?" asked Hicks.
"Why, some of the news, of course. The gossip, scandal, engagements,and so forth."
"But he don't know anything about that sort of thing, so how can he tellyou about it?" said Hicks.
"Oh, you're just as bad. Do go and join him and hear about Dirk vanHeerden's cows. Please take my part, Mr Claverton. Isn't WillJeffreys a bore?"
"Haven't been long enough in his company to answer with any certainty.Will let you know later."
"How provoking you are! Now I appeal to all of you. If you see mecornered by Will Jeffreys, come to the rescue."
"The greatest bore I ever knew," began Claverton, "was a lady--anelderly lady. She would volunteer instruction on any and every subjectunder heaven, from the precise length of Aaron's beard, to the cost ofsoup-kitchens; and once she cornered you, you had to listen or pretendto. One day she cornered me. It was in the drawing-room, and there wasno escape; but there was a clock opposite. It occurred to me to timeher. For exactly twenty-one minutes she prosed on uninterruptedly, likea stream flowing over its bed; never stopped to take breath once. Asermon was a joke to it. Twenty-one minutes! Heaven knows how muchlonger she would have gone on, but for a lucky interruption."
"What was she prosing about?" said Ethel.
"I haven't the very faintest idea."
"Well, I don't believe a word of the story. I believe you made it allup."
"You don't believe a word of that story?" said Claverton, with a stareof amazement, while Hicks and Laura went into fits.
"No, I don't; at least, I'll say this much--you may have known such abore, but if so it was a man, not a lady."
"I've told you a bare fact, upon my honour. But if--"
They were interrupted by the appearance on the scene of Jeffreyshimself; but Ethel was too quick for him. She had seen him coming, andwas already on her way indoors. Then she began to sing duets withLaura, whom she had manoeuvred to the piano by some mysterious signal.Young Jeffreys, feeling very sulky and sore at his enslaver'scapriciousness and want of consideration, went and sat by himself at theother side of the room, whence he could watch the author of hisdiscomfort. The old people, under no necessity to talk, waxed drowsy,and nodded through the music. Presently Laura left the piano and, in atrice, she and Hicks were deep in an animated conversation in a low toneand in a snug corner, under pretence of looking through a pile of music.Ethel the while was extracting wondrous combinations from the keys,under cover of which she was carrying on a sharp running fire of banter,or rather word-skirmish, with Claverton.
Jeffreys, watching them, was on thorns and tenterhooks. Who the deucewas this stranger? A month ago no one had ever heard of him, and nowhere he was, with his damned finicking ways and smooth tongue, thinkingthat all the world was made for him. A fellow, too, he'd be bound tosay, that with all his easy-going blarney, couldn't sit a bucking horse,or hit a haystack at ten yards. Yet there was Ethel carrying onfuriously with this fellow, while he, Jeffreys, was sent to the wall.In reality, however, there was nothing that those two were saying thatall the world--Jeffreys included--would not have been perfectly welcometo hear.
"Claverton," suddenly exclaimed Hicks, as two hours later they werediscussing the usual pipe before turning in. Jeffreys had joined them,but did not add much to the conversation. "I hear you're going to stayon here."
"Yes, I am."
Jeffreys' jaw fell at this announcement. He had been laying balm to hiswounded spirit in the thought that this interloping stranger would soonbe going, and then--well, the field would be clear again.
"Glad to hear it, old fellow, awfully glad. By Jove, it's the best newsI've heard for a long time."
"The deuce it is! And why, may I ask?"
"Why? Only hear him! Haven't I had to do everything by myself, andknock about by myself? No fellow to talk to at work, or to go out andsneak a buck with, or to blow a cloud with at night, and so on. Nowwe'll have a rare good time of it together."
"Especially when you go down to feed the ostriches," said Claverton,with a mischievous laugh.
The other coloured and looked foolish, and was about to make somestammering reply.
"Never mind, Hicks," said Claverton, in that wonderfully attractivemanner which he now and then exhibited, "I don't think you and I willquarrel. Now I'm going to turn in. Good-night. Good-night, Jeffreys."
"I say," inquired Jeffreys, after he had gone out. "Is thatcattle-branding on to-morrow?"
"Yes."
"Well, I think I'll stay and give you a hand, if Mr Brathwaite doesn'tmind. Times are slack, and there's nothing doing at home."
"Rather--mind you do; we'll be only too glad," answered Hicks with ayawn, as he blew out the candle; and in five minutes more a mild snoreor so showed that he was out of reach of any further conversation.
Jeffreys lay and ruminated. Here, at any rate, he would be in hiselement. What sort of a figure would that stuck-up, priggish fool--again, reader, pardon a jealous man--cut in the cattle kraal among theclashing horns and the charging of maddened beasts, and all the dash andexcitement of a piece of very rough work, by no means unattended withdanger? He was all there in the drawing-room; but where would he be atthis? And Jeffreys dropped off to sleep with a sardonic grin upon hiscountenance, to dream of his rival--for so he had already begun toregard Claverton--losing nerve, and being tossed and trampled by thewildest brute in the herd. As to the fulfilment of which benevolentexpectation the morrow would show.
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Note 1. No native is allowed to remove stock from the colony without apass granted by his late employer to certify that he acquired itlawfully. This pass is countersigned by the various magistrates andnative agents along the road.