Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
THE SETTLER AND THE SAVAGE, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE WILD KARROO.
A solitary horseman--a youth in early manhood--riding at a snail's paceover the great plains, or karroo, of South Africa. His chin on hisbreast; his hands in the pockets of an old shooting-coat; his legs inragged trousers, and his feet in worn-out boots. Regardless ofstirrups, the last are dangling. The reins hang on the neck of hissteed, whose head may be said to dangle from its shoulders, so nearlydoes its nose approach the ground. A felt hat covers the youth's curlyblack head, and a double-barrelled gun is slung across his broadshoulders.
We present this picture to the reader as a subject of contemplation.
It was in the first quarter of the present century that the youthreferred to--Charlie Considine by name--rode thus meditatively over thatSouth African karroo. His depression was evidently not due to lack ofspirit, for, when he suddenly awoke from his reverie, drew himself upand shook back his hair, his dark eyes opened with something like aflash. They lost some of their fire, however, as he gazed round on thehot plain which undulated like the great ocean to the horizon, where aline of blue indicated mountains.
The truth is that Charlie Considine was lost--utterly lost on thekarroo! That his horse was in the same lost condition became apparentfrom its stopping without orders and looking round languidly with asigh.
"Come, Rob Roy," said the youth, gathering up the reins and patting thesteed's neck, "this will never do. You and I must not give in to ourfirst misfortune. No doubt the want of water for two days is hard tobear, but we are strong and young both of us. Come, let's try at leastfor a sheltering bush to sleep under, before the sun goes down."
Animated by the cheering voice, if not by the words, of its rider, thehorse responded to the exhortation by breaking into a shuffling canter.
After a short time the youth came in sight of what appeared to be a herdof cattle in the far distance. In eager expectation he galloped towardsthem and found that his conjectures were correct. They were cattle incharge of one of that lowest of the human race, a Bushman. Thediminutive, black-skinned, and monkey-faced creature was nearly naked.He carried a sheepskin kaross, or blanket, on his left shoulder, and aknobbed stick, or "kerrie," in his right hand.
"Can you speak English?" asked Considine as he rode up.
The Bushman looked vacant and made no reply.
"Where is your master's house?" asked the youth.
A stare was the only answer.
"Can't you speak, you dried-up essence of stupidity!" exclaimed Charliewith impatience.
At this the Bushman uttered something with so many klicks, klucks, andgurgles in it that his interrogator at once relinquished the use of thetongue, and took to signs, but with no better success, his effortshaving only the effect of causing the mouth of the Bushman to expandfrom ear to ear. Uttering a few more klicks and gurgles, he pointed inthe direction of the setting sun. As Considine could elicit no fullerinformation he bade him a contemptuous farewell and rode away in thedirection indicated.
He had not gone far when a dark speck became visible on the horizondirectly in front.
"Ho! Rob," he exclaimed, "that looks like something--a bush, is it? Ifso, we may find water there, who knows--eh? No, it can't be a bush, forit moves," he added in a tone of disappointment. "Why, I do believeit's an ostrich! Well, if we can't find anything to drink, I'll try toget something to eat."
Urging his jaded steed into a gallop, the youth soon drew near enough todiscover that the object was neither bush nor ostrich, but a horseman.
The times of which we write were unsettled. Considine, although "lost,"was sufficiently aware of his whereabouts to understand that he was nearthe north-eastern frontier of Cape Colony. He deemed it prudent,therefore, to unsling his gun. On drawing nearer he became convincedfrom the appearance of the stranger that he could not be a Kafir. Whenclose enough to perceive that he was a white man, mounted and armed muchlike himself, he re-slung his gun, waved his cap in token of friendship,and galloped forward with the confidence of youth.
The stranger proved to be a young man of about his own age--a littleover twenty--but much taller and more massive in frame. He was, indeed,a young giant, and bestrode a horse suitable to his weight. He was cladin the rough woollen and leathern garments worn by the frontier farmers,or boers, of that period, and carried one of those long heavy flint-lockguns, or "roers," which the Dutch-African colonist then deemed the mosteffective weapon in the universe.
"Well met!" exclaimed Considine heartily, as he rode up.
"Humph! that depends on whether we meet as friends or foes," replied thestranger, with a smile on his cheerful countenance that accorded illwith the caution of his words.
"Well met, I say again, whether we be friends or foes," returnedConsidine still more heartily, "for if we be friends we shallfraternise; if we be foes we shall fight, and I would rather fight youfor love, hate, or fun, than die of starvation in the karroo."
"What is your name, and where do you come from?" demanded the stranger.
"One question at a time, if you please," answered the youth. "My nameis Charles Considine. What is yours?"
"Hans Marais."
"Well, Mr Marais, I come from England, which is my native home. In thecoming I managed to get wrecked in Table Bay, landed at Capetown, joineda frontier farmer, and came up here--a long and roughish journey, asprobably you know, and as my garments testify. On the way I lost mycomrades, and in trying to find them lost myself. For two days nothingin the shape of meat or drink has passed my lips, and my poor horse hasfared little better in the way of drink, though the karroo-bush hasfurnished him with food enough to keep his bones together. So now, youhave my biography in brief, and if you be a man possessed of any powersof sympathy, you will know what to do."
The young Dutchman held out his huge hand, which Considine grasped andshook warmly.
"Come," he said, while a slight smile played on his bronzed countenance;"I have nothing here to give you, but if you will come with me to yonkoppie you shall have both meat and drink."
The koppie to which he referred was a scarce discernible knoll on thehorizon.
Hans Marais seemed to be a man of few words, for he turned and gallopedaway, without for some time uttering another syllable to his companion.As for Considine, the thought of once more feasting on any sort of meatand drink was so fascinating, in his then ravenous condition, that hecared for nought else, and followed his guide in silence.
Soon the herbage on the plain became more luxuriant, and in half an hourthe two horsemen found themselves riding among scattered groups ofmimosa bushes, the thorns of which were from three to five inches long,while their sweet fragrance scented the whole atmosphere.
On reaching the ridge of one of the undulations of the plain, HansMarais drew rein and gazed intently towards the distant horizon. At thesame time Considine's horse pricked up its ears, pawed the ground, andexhibited unwonted signs of a desire to advance.
"Hallo, Rob!" exclaimed its master, "what's wrong with you?"
"Your horse has been gifted by his Maker with a power," said Hans,"which has been denied to man. He scents water. But before he shalltaste it he must help me to procure fresh meat. Do you see the boks onthat koppie?"
"Do you mean those white specks like ostrich eggs on the hillock to theright of the big bush?"
"The same. These are springboks. Ride away down by that hollow tillyou get somewhat in their rear, and then drive them in the direction ofthat clump of bushes on our left, just under the sun."
Without waiting for a reply Hans rode off at a gallop, and Considineproc
eeded to obey orders.
A few minutes sufficed to bring him close to the springboks, whichbeautiful antelopes no sooner observed him than, after one brief gaze ofsurprise, they bounded away in the direction of the bushes indicated byHans,--conscious apparently of their superior fleetness, for they seemedin no great haste, but leaped about as if half in play, one and anothertaking an occasional spring of six feet or more into the air. As theypassed the bushes towards which Considine drove them, a white puff wasseen to burst from them, and the huge roer of Hans Marais sent forth itsbellowing report. It seemed as if the entire flock of boks had receivedan electric shock, so high did they spring into the air. Then theydashed off at full speed, leaving one of their number dead upon theplain.
When Considine came up he found that Hans had already disembowelled thespringbok, and was in the act of fastening the carcase on his horsebehind the saddle. Remounting immediately, the hunter galloped towardsa mound, on the top of which the bushes formed a dense brake. Skirtingthis till he reached the other side, he pulled up, exclaiming--
"There, you'll find good water in the hollow; go drink, while I preparesupper on the koppie."
Considine went off at once. Indeed, he could not have done otherwise,for his impatient horse took the bit in its mouth and galloped towards asmall pool of water, which was so yellow with mud that it resembled thinpea-soup.
Thirsty though he was, the youth could not help smiling at his newfriend's idea of "good" water, but he was not in a condition to befastidious. Jumping out of the saddle, he lay down on his breast,dipped his lips into the muddy liquid, and drank with as much enjoymentas if the beverage had been nectar--or Bass. Rob Roy also stood, in astate of perfect bliss, in the middle of the pool, sucking the water inwith unwearied vigour. It seemed as if man and horse had laid a wageras to who should drink most. At last, the point of utmost capacity inboth was reached, and they retired with a sigh of contentment, Rob Royto browse on the plain, and his master to betake himself to theencampment on the knoll, where Hans Marais quickly supplied him withglorious steaks of springbok venison.
"Isn't it an enjoyable thing to eat when one is hungry, eh?" saidConsidine, after half an hour's silent devotion to the duty inhand.--"Why, where got you that?"
He referred to an ostrich egg which his companion had taken from asaddle-bag, and in one end of which he was busy boring a hole.
"Found it in the sand just before I found you," said Hans. "Did youever eat one?"
"No, never."
"Well then, you shall do so now, and I'll show you how the niggers heremake an omelet."
He planted the huge egg in the hot ashes as he spoke, and kept stirringits contents with a piece of stick until sufficiently cooked.
"Not bad,--eh?"
"Glorious!" exclaimed Considine, smacking his lips.
Both youths continued to smack their lips over the egg until it wasfinished, after which Charlie pronounced it not only a glorious but asatisfying morsel. This was doubtless true, for an ostrich egg isconsidered equal to twenty-four hen's eggs.
Returning to the springbok steaks, the half-starved youth continued hisrepast, while Hans Marais, having finished, extended his huge framebeside the camp-fire, leaned upon his saddle, and smoked his pipe inbenignant contemplation of his companion.
"This is pleasant!" said Charlie, pausing, with a sigh, and looking up.
"Ja, it is pleasant," replied Hans.
"Ja!" repeated Charlie, quoting the Dutch "Yes" of the other; "are you aDutchman?"
"I am; at least I am a Cape colonist descended from Dutchmen. Why areyou surprised?"
"Because," replied his companion, while he prepared another steak overthe embers, "you speak English so well that I could not have known it.How came you to learn the language so perfectly?"
"My father, being wiser than some of his friends and neighbours," saidHans, "sent me to Capetown to be educated. I suppose that is thereason. We dwelt in the western part of the colony then, and I was theeldest of the family. When a number of us Dutchmen left that part ofthe country--being disgusted with the Government,--and came up here, mybrothers and sister had to be taken from school. This was a pity, foreducation taught me to know that education is an inestimable blessing--the want of it a heavy misfortune."
"True," remarked Considine. But being still too busy with the steaks topursue the subject he merely added--"Does your father live near this?"
"About seven hours' ride, which, as I daresay you know, is forty-twomiles. You shall go home with me to-morrow."
"How many are there of you?" asked Considine, looking at the youngDutchman over a bone. "Excuse my being so impolite," he added, "butd'you know, one feels horribly like a tiger after a two days' fast."
"Don't stand on ceremony," said the other, with a laugh. "When you aresatisfied we can converse. There are fifteen of us: father, mother,sister, and eleven boys besides myself. I'll tell you about them allafter supper; meanwhile I'll go fetch the horses, for there are lionsabout, as I daresay you know, and some of them are nearly as ravenous asyourself."
Hans rose, put his pipe in the band of his broad-brimmed hat, andsauntered heavily out of the thicket.
In a few minutes he returned, leading the horses, and then busiedhimself in surrounding the camp with an almost impenetrable wall ofmimosa-thorn branches, the spikes of which were so tremendous that itseemed as if nothing smaller than an elephant could force its waythrough. This done, he sat down and quietly refilled his pipe, whileConsidine, having at last finished his meal, drew the embers of the firetogether, disposed his limbs comfortably on the ground, lay back on hissaddle, and prepared to enjoy a contemplative gaze at the cheering blazeand an interrogative conversation with his new friend.
"Do you smoke?" asked Hans.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because it makes me sick, and I don't like it."
Hans looked surprised. This was a new idea to him, and he sat for sometime pondering it; indeed, we may say with truth that he "smoked it" Ina few minutes he looked earnestly at the youth, and asked why he came tothe Cape.
"To make my fortune," answered Considine.
"Fortunes are not easily made at the Cape," was the grave reply. "Myfather has been making his fortune for the last quarter of a century,and it's not made yet.--Why did you choose the Cape?"
"I didn't choose it."
"No?" said the Dutchman, with a look of surprise.
"No," responded the Englishman; "my coming here was not a matter ofchoice: it was necessity. Come, I will make a confidant of you andrelate my history. Don't be alarmed, I won't keep you up all night withprosy details. My life, as you may see, has not yet been a long one,and until this year it has been comparatively uneventful."
He paused a few moments as if to recall the past, while his companion,picking his pipe with a mimosa thorn, settled himself to listen.
"Father, mother, brothers, and sisters I have none," began Considine ashe whittled a stick--a pastime, by the way, which is erroneouslysupposed to be an exclusively American privilege. "Neither have Igrandfathers, grandmothers, aunts, nephews, nieces, or anything else ofthe sort. They all died either before or soon after I was born. Myonly living relation is an uncle, who was my guardian. He is asea-captain, and a good man, but tough. I bear him no ill-will. Iwould not speak disrespectfully of him; but he is tough, and, I inclineto think, no better than he should be. Infancy and boyhood withsqualling and schooling I pass over. My uncle ordered me to study forthe medical profession, and I obeyed. Wishing to see a little of theworld before finishing my course, I sailed in a vessel bound forAustralia. We touched at Table Bay in passing. Obtaining leave, I wentashore at Capetown. The ship also went ashore--without leave--incompany with six other ships, during a terrific gale which sprang up inthe night. Our vessel became a total wreck. The crew were saved, butmy effects went with the cargo to the bottom. Fortunately, however, Ihad carried ashore with me the little cash I possessed."
"
I found the Capetown people very kind. One of them took me by the handand offered me employment, but I preferred to proceed into the interiorwith a trader and work or shoot my way, in order to save my money. Notrader being about to start at that time, I was obliged to accept theoffer of a frontier farmer, who, for a small sum, agreed to allow me toaccompany his waggons, on condition that I should make myself generallyuseful. I grudged the cash, but closed with the offer, and next daystarted on our journey of six hundred miles--such being the distance wehad to go, according to my employer or comrade, Jan Smit."
"Who?" exclaimed Hans, with sudden energy.
"Jan Smit," repeated Considine. "Do you know him?"
"Ja--but go on," said Hans, with a nod and a smile.
"Well, I soon found that my Dutch comrade--"
"He's only half Dutch," interrupted Hans. "His mother was Dutch, buthis father is English."
"Well, Dutch or English, he is the most unmitigated scoundrel I evermet."
"Ja," muttered Hans, "he is."
"And I soon found that my trip of pleasure became a trip of torment. Itis true we shot plenty of game--lions among the rest--but in camp theman was so unbearable that disgust counterbalanced all the pleasure ofthe trip. I tried hard to get the better of him by good-humour andjollity, but he became so insolent at last that I could not stand it.Three days ago when I asked him how far we were from his farm, hegrowled that it wasn't far off now; whereupon I could not refrain fromsaying that I was glad to hear it, as we should soon have the pleasureof parting company. This put him in a rage. He kicked over the potcontaining part of our breakfast, and told me I might part company thenand there if I pleased. My temper does not easily go, but it went atlast. I jumped up, saddled my horse, mounted, and rode away. Of courseI lost myself immediately, and for two days have been trying to findmyself, without success, mourning over my fate and folly, and fastingfrom necessity. But for my opportune meeting with you, Mr Marais, itmight have gone hard with me and my poor horse, for the want of waterhad well-nigh floored us both."
"You'll never make your fortune by doctoring on the frontier," saidHans, after a few minutes' silence. "Nobody gets ill in this splendidclimate--besides, we couldn't afford to waste time in that way. Peoplehere usually live to a great age, and then go off without the assistanceof a doctor. What else can you turn your hand to?"
"Anything," replied Considine, with the overweening confidence of youth.
"Which means nothing, I suspect," said the Dutchman, "forJack-of-all-trades is proverbially master of none."
"It may be so," retorted the other, "nevertheless, without boasting, Imay venture to assert--because I can prove it--that I am able to maketables, chairs, chests, and such-like things, besides knowing somethingof the blacksmith's trade. In regard to doctoring, I am not entitled topractise for fees, not yet being full-fledged--only a third-yearstudent--but I may do a little in that way for love, you know. If youhave a leg, for instance, that wants amputating, I can manage it for youwith a good carving-knife and a cross-cut saw. Or, should a grindergive you annoyance, any sort of pincers, small enough to enter yourmouth, will enable me to relieve you."
At this Hans smiled and displayed a set of brilliant "grinders," whichdid not appear likely to give him annoyance for some time to come.
"Can you shoot?" asked Hans, laying his hand on his companion'sdouble-barrelled gun, which lay on the ground between them, and which,with its delicate proportions and percussion-locks, formed a strikingcontrast to the battered, heavy, flint-lock weapon of the Dutchman.
"Ay, to some extent, as the lions' skins in Jan Smit's waggon cantestify.--By the way," added Considine quickly, "you said that you knewSmit. Can you tell me where he lives? because I still owe him the halfof the money promised for permission to accompany him on this trip, andshould not like to remain his debtor."
"Ja, I know where he lives. He's a bad specimen of a Dutch farmer inevery respect, except as to size. He lives quite close to our farm--more's the pity!--and is one of those men who do their best to keep upbad feeling between the frontier-men and the Kafirs. The evil deeds ofmen such as he are represented in England, by designing or foolishpersons, as being characteristic of the whole class of frontier farmers,hence we are regarded as a savage set, while, in my humble opinion, weare no worse than the people of other colonies placed in similarcircumstances--perhaps better than some of them. Do you know anythingof our past history?"
"Not much," replied Considine, throwing away the remnant of the stick hehad been whittling, and commencing on another piece. "Of course I knowthat the Cape was first doubled by the Portuguese commander BartholomewDiaz in, I think, 1486, and after him by Vasco de Gama, and that theDutch formed the first settlement on it under Van Riebeek in 1652, butbeyond this my knowledge of Cape history and dates is hazy and confused.I know, however, that your forefathers mismanaged the country for abouta century and a half, after which it finally came into possession of theBritish in 1806."
"Humph!" ejaculated Hans, while a shade of displeasure flitted for amoment across his broad visage. "'Tis a pity your reading had notextended farther, for then you would have learned that from 1806 thecolony has been mismanaged by _your_ countrymen, and the last fruit oftheir mismanagement has been a bloody war with the Kafirs, which hasonly just been concluded. Peace has been made only this year, and thefrontier is now at rest. But who will rebuild the burned homesteads ofthis desolated land? who will reimburse the ruined farmers? above all,who will restore the lost lives?"
The young Dutchman's eyes kindled, and his stern face flushed as hespoke, for although his own homestead had escaped the ruthless savage,friends and kindred had suffered deeply in the irruption referred to,which took place in 1819, and one or two of his intimate comrades hadfound early graves in the wild karroo.
Considine, sympathising with his companion's feelings, said, "I doubtnot that you have much to complain of, for there is no colony under thesun that escapes from the evil acts of occasional bad or incompetentGovernors. But pray do not extend your indignation to me or to mycountrymen at large, for few of us know the true merits of your case.And tell me, what was the origin of the war which has just ended?"
The young farmer's anger had passed away as quickly as it came. Lettinghis bulky frame sink back into the reclining position from which he hadpartially risen, he replied--
"Just the old story--self-will and stupidity. That domineering fellowLord Charles Somerset, intending to check the plundering of the colonyby Kafirs, chose to enter into treaties with Gaika as paramount chief ofKafirland, although Gaika himself told him plainly that he was notparamount chief. Of course the other chiefs were indignant, and refusedto recognise such treaties. They did more: they made war on Gaika, andbeat him, whereupon Somerset, instead of leaving the niggers to fighttheir own battles, must needs send a great commando of military andburghers to `restore' Gaika to his so-called supremacy. This was done.The chief T'slambi was driven from his villages, and no fewer than11,000 head of cattle were handed over to Gaika. While this was goingon at the eastern frontier, the Kafirs invaded the colony at otherpoints, drove in the small military posts, ravaged the whole land, andeven attacked the military headquarters at Grahamstown, where, however,they were defeated with great slaughter. After this a large force wassent to drive them out of their great stronghold, the Fish River bush.This was successfully accomplished, and then, at last, the right thingwas done. The Governor met the Kafir chiefs, when it was agreed thatthey should evacuate the country between the Great Fish River and theKeiskamma, and that the territory so evacuated should form _neutralground_. So matters stand at present, but I have no faith in Kafirs.It is their pride to lie, their business to make war, and their delightto plunder."
"But is it not the same with _all_ savages?" asked Considine.
"Doubtless it is, therefore _no_ savages ought to be trusted, ascivilised men are trusted, till they cease to be savages. We trust themtoo much. Time will show.--By the way, I hear t
hat a new move is aboutto be attempted. Rumour says that your Government is going to send outa strong party of emigrants to colonise the eastern frontier. Is thistrue?"
"It is," replied Considine; "I wonder that you have not heard all aboutit before now."
"Good reasons for that. For one thing, I have just returned from a longtrip into the north-western districts, and I have not been in the way ofhearing news for some time. Besides, we have no newspapers in thecolony. Everything comes to us by word of mouth, and that slowly. Tellme about this matter."
"There is little to tell," returned Considine, replenishing the firewith a thick branch, which sent up a magnificent display of sparks andscared away a hyena and two jackals that had been prowling round thecamp-fence. "The fact is that there is a great deal of distress inEngland just now, and a redundant population of idlers, owing to thecessation of continental wars. This seems to have put it into the headsof some people in power to encourage emigration to the eastern part ofthis colony. In the House of Commons 50,000 pounds have been voted inaid of the plan, and it seems that when the proposal was first madepublic, no fewer than 90,000 would-be emigrants applied for leave tocome out here. Of these I believe 4000 have been selected, andtwenty-three vessels chartered to convey them out. This is all I couldlearn before I left England, but I suppose we shall have more light onthe subject ere many months have gone by."
"A good plan," said the Dutchman, with a grim smile, "but I pity theemigrants!"
As Considine's head drooped at this point, and his eyes winked with thatowlish look which indicates the approach of irresistible sleep, HansMarais rose, and, spreading a large kaross or blanket of leopard skin onthe ground, invited his companion to lie down thereon. The youthwillingly complied, stretched himself beside the Dutchman, and almostinstantly fell sound asleep. Hans spread a lighter covering overhimself and his comrade, and, with his head on his saddle, lay for along time gazing tranquilly at the stars, which shone with an intensityof lustre peculiar to that region of the southern hemisphere, while theyelling cries of jackals and the funereal moaning of spotted hyenas,with an occasional distant roar from the king of beasts, formed anappropriate lullaby.