CHAPTER NINETEEN.
DESCRIBES A SERIES OF EARLY RISINGS.
One fine morning early, high up among the krantzes and dark jungles of akloot or mountain gorge, which branched off from Glen Lynden, a noblespecimen of an African savage awoke from his night's repose andstretched himself.
He had spent the night among the lower branches of a mimosa-bush, theopening into which was so small that it was a wonder how his large bodycould have squeezed through it. Indeed, it would have been quiteimpossible for him to have gained the shelter of that dark retreat if hehad not possessed a lithe supple frame and four powerful legs furnishedwith tremendous claws.
We should have mentioned, perhaps, that our noble savage was amagnificent leopard--or Cape "tiger."
As he stretched himself he laid back his head, shut his eyes, andyawned, by which act he displayed a tremendous collection of canines andgrinders, with a pink throat of great capacity. The yawn ended in agasp, and then he raised his head and looked quietly about him, gentlypatting the ground with his tail, as a man might pat his bedclotheswhile considering what to do next. Not unlike man, he lay down at fulllength and tried to go to sleep again, but it would not do. He hadevidently had his full allowance, and therefore got up and stretchedhimself again in a standing position. In this act, bending his deepchest to the ground, he uttered a low _gurr_ of savage satisfaction,sank his claws into the soil, and gently tore a number of tough rootsinto shreds. Sundry little creatures of various kinds in theneighbourhood, hearing the _gurr_, presented their tails to the sky anddived into their little holes with incredible rapidity.
The leopard now shook off dull sloth, and, lashing his sides in apenitential manner with his tail, glided through the opening in themimosa-bush, bounded into the branches of a neighbouring tree, rannimbly out to the end of one of them, and leaping with a magnificentspring over a gully, alighted softly on the turf at the other side.Trotting calmly into an open space, he stopped to take a survey ofsurrounding nature.
Breakfast now naturally suggested itself. At least we may suppose sofrom a certain eager look which suddenly kindled in the leopard's eye,and a wrinkling of his nose as a bird flitted close over his head. Atthat moment a species of rabbit, or cony, chanced to hop round thecorner of a rock. The lightning-flash is not quicker than the springwith which the Cape-tiger traversed the twenty feet between himself andhis prey.
The result was very effectual as regarded the cony, but it was not muchto gurr about in the way of breakfast. It was a mere whet to theappetite, which increased the desire for more.
Advancing down the kloof with that stealthy gliding motion peculiar tothe feline race, the leopard soon came in sight of a fine bushbok, whosesleek sides drew from him an irrepressible snicker of delight. But thebushbok was not within spring-range. He was at the foot of a lowprecipice. Creeping to the top of this with great caution the leopardlooked over with a view to estimate distance. It was yet too far for aspring, so he turned at once to seek a better way of approach. In doingso he touched a small stone, which rolled over the krantz, bounded fromcrag to cliff, and, carrying several other stones larger than itselfalong with it, dashed itself at the very feet of the bushbok, whichwisely took to its heels and went off like the wind.
Sulky beyond all conception, the leopard continued to descend the kloofuntil he reached a narrow pass from which were visible, not far off, theabodes of men. Here he paused and couched in quiet contemplation.
Now there was another early waking on that fine morning, though notquite so early as the one just described. Master Junkie Brook, lying ina packing-box, which served as an extempore crib, in the cottage ofKenneth McTavish, opened his large round eyes and rubbed them. Gettingup, he observed that Mrs Scholtz was sound asleep, and quietly dressedhimself. He was a precocious child, and had learned to dress withoutassistance. The lesson was more easily learned than beings living incivilised lands might suppose, owing to the fact that he had only twogarments--a large leather jacket and a pair of leather trousers, onehuge button in front, and one behind, holding the latter securely to theformer. A pair of veltschoen and a fur cap completed a costume whichhad been manufactured by the joint efforts of his mother and sister andMrs Scholtz. The husband of the last, on seeing it for the first time,remarked that it "vas more like me garb of a man of dirty zan a boy ofdree." The garb had been made of such tough material that it seemedimpossible to wear it out, and of such an extremely easy fit thatalthough the child had now lived in it upwards of two years there werenot more than six patches on it anywhere.
How Junkie got to the Baviaans River may perhaps perplex the reader. Itis easily explained. Hans had invited all or any of the Brook family tovisit his father's farm on the karroo. Gertie catching a cold, or insome other way becoming feeble, wanted a change of air. Her father,recalling the invitation, and happening to know that Hans was inGrahamstown at the time, drove her over with Mrs Scholtz and Junkie tomake the thing proper, and offered a visit of all three. You may besure Hans did not refuse to take them to his home in his new cart.After spending some time there Mrs Scholtz took a fancy that she wouldlike to go with Hans on one of his frequent excursions to Glen Lynden,but she would not leave Junkie behind. Hans objected to Junkie atfirst, but finally gave in, and thus the little hero found his way tothe River of Baboons.
When dressed--which was soon done, as he omitted washing--Junkie beganto consider what he had best do. Mischief, of course, but of what sort?That was the question.
His room was on the ground floor, and had a lattice window which openedlike a door into the back premises. He pushed the window and found thatit opened. What a chance! Mrs Scholtz was still asleep, and snoring.Absence without leave was his chief delight. In two minutes he was deepin the jungle, panting. Knowing from long and bitter experience that hewould be pursued by the inveterate Mrs Scholtz, the urchin ran up thekloof, bent on placing the greatest possible space between him and hisnatural enemy in the shortest possible time. In this way he was notlong of drawing near to the leopard's point of observation.
No doubt that keen-sighted animal would quickly have observed the child,if its attention had not at the moment been attracted by other andequally mischievous game. A troop of baboons came down the kloof topilfer the white man's fruit and vegetables. They had evidently risenlate for breakfast, and were in a hurry to reach their breakfast parlourbefore the white man should awake. There were a dozen or so of females,several huge males, and quite a crowd of children of various ages,besides one or two infants clinging to their mothers' waists.
It was pitiful to see the sad anxious faces of these infants. Perhapsthey knew their parents' errand and disapproved of it. More probablythey felt their own weakness of frame, and dreaded the shocks sustainedwhen their heedless mothers bounded from rock or stump like balls ofindia-rubber. They were extremely careless mothers. Even Junkie, as hestood paralysed with terror and surprise, could not avoid seeing that.The troop was led by a great blue-faced old-man baboon with a remarkablysaturnine expression. On reaching the top of the rock which the leopardhad just vacated, the old man called a halt. The others came tumblingawkwardly towards him on all-fours, with the exception of several of theyoungsters, who loitered behind to play. One of these, a very small badlittle boy-baboon, deliberately turned aside to explore on his ownaccount. He came down near to the foot of the rock where the leopardhad concealed himself. Catching sight of his glaring enemy, the bad boyuttered a terrified squawk. Instantly all the males, headed by the oldman, rushed to the rescue. Powerful though he was, the leopard wascowardly at heart. A large troop of baboons had some time ago mademince-meat of his own grandmother. Remembering this, he sloped under abank, glided round a corner of the cliff, bounded over a bush, andsought refuge in a thicket.
It was at this moment, while in the act of bounding, that he caughtsight of Junkie, but being confused at the moment, and ashamed of havingbeen twice foiled, he slunk away with his tail between his legs andconcealed himsel
f among the branches of an old gnarled and favouritetree.
The bad boy-baboon was the only one who had seen the leopard; the oldmales therefore had to content themselves with a few fierce looks roundin all directions, and several defiant roars. Born and bred in themidst of alarms, however, they were soon composed enough to resume theirdescent on the white man's stores--to the great relief of the petrifiedJunkie, of whom in their alarm they took no notice, regarding him,possibly, as a badly executed statue of a baboon.
Junkie quickly recovered himself, and, seeing the baboons descend thekloof, thought it safer, as well as more in accord with his originalplans, to ascend.
Gladly, hopefully, did the leopard observe his decision and watch hisprogress. To him the tide of fortune seemed to have taken a favourableturn, for Junkie, in the innocence of his heart, made straight for thegnarled tree.
But one of the many slips so often quoted with reference to cups andlips was at this time impending over the unfortunate leopard.
There was yet one other early riser that morning--namely Booby theBushman. In pursuance of his calling, that ill-used and misguided sonof the soil arose about daybreak with much of his native soil stickingto his person, and, with a few other desperadoes like himself, made adescent on Glen Lynden--not, by any means, the first that his fraternityhad made. Not so bloodthirsty as the leopard, quite as mischievous asJunkie, and much more cunning than the baboons, Booby chanced to arriveat the gorge already mentioned just at the time when Junkie wasapproaching it. There was, if you will, somewhat of a coincidence herein regard to time, but there was no coincidence in the fact of suchcharacters selecting the same route, because whoever passed up or downthat kloof must needs go by the gorge.
Slowly Junkie picked his way up the ragged path towards the gnarledtree. The leopard, scarcely believing in his good luck, licked hislips. Rapidly the Bushman and his men descended the same path.
They rode on horses--stolen horses, of course. The leopard heard theclatter of hoofs and looked back. Junkie drew nearer to the gnarledtree; the leopard looked forward. Never was savage beast morethoroughly perplexed. Anxiety glared in his eyes; exasperation grinnedin his teeth; indecision quivered in the muscles of his tail. Just atthat moment Booby caught sight of his spotted skin. Had the leopardbeen less perturbed he would have been too wise to allow his carcass toappear. A poisoned arrow instantly quivered in his flank. It actedlike a spur; with an angry growl and a clear bound of no one knows howmany feet, he re-entered the jungle and fled to the mountains.
Petrified again, Junkie remained motionless till the Bushmen robbersrode up. Booby knew that his leopard was safe, for a poisoned arrow issure to kill in time, so he did not care to hasten after it just then,but preferred to continue his approach to the white man's habitations.Great, then, was his amazement when he all but rode over Junkie.
Amazement was quickly succeeded by alarm. His knowledge of the whiteman's ways and habits told him at once the state of affairs. Theappearance of Junkie in the company of "tigers" and baboons, was, heknew well, a mere juvenile indiscretion. He also knew that parentalinstincts among white men were keen, and thence concluded that discoveryand pursuit would be immediate. His own plans were therefore not onlydefeated, but his own safety much endangered, as his presence was sureto be discovered by his tracks. "Let's be off instanter," was thesubstance of Booby's communication to his brethren. The brethrenagreed, but Booby had lived among white men, and although his ownparticular master was a scoundrel, there were those of his household--especially among the females--who had taught him something of Christianpity. He could not leave the child to the tender mercies of wildbeasts. He did not dare to convey him back to the cottage of KennethMcTavish. What was he to do? Delay might be death! In thesecircumstances he seized the horrified Junkie by the arm, swung him onthe pommel of his saddle, and galloped away up the kloof and over themountains into the deepest recesses of Kafirland.
When Mrs Scholtz awoke that morning, rubbed her eyes, looked up anddiscovered that Junkie's crib was empty, she sprang from her bed,perceived the open lattice, and gave vent to an awful scream. Inbarbarous times and regions a shriek is never uttered in vain. TheMcTavish household was instantly in the room, some of them indeshabille--some armed--all alarmed.
"Oh my!--oh me!" cried Mrs Scholtz, leaping back into bed withunfeminine haste, "he's gone!"
"Who's gone?" asked McTavish.
"Junkie!"
"What! where? when? how? why?" said Mrs McTavish, Jessie, and others.
Mrs Scholtz gasped and pointed to the lattice; at the same time shegrasped her garments as a broad hint to the men. They took it hastily.
"Come, boys, search about, and one of you saddle up. Go, call GrootWillem," was the master's prompt order as he turned and left the room.
Six Hottentots, a Bushman, and a Bechuana boy obeyed, but those whosearched sought in vain. Yet not altogether in vain--they foundJunkie's "spoor," and traced it into the jungle. While two followed it,the others returned and "saddled up" the horses. Groot Willem chancedto be on a visit to the Highlanders at the time.
"What a pity," he said, coming out of his room and stretching himself(it was quite an impressive sight to see such a giant stretch himself!)"that the hunters are off. They might have helped us."
The giant spoke with good-humoured sarcasm, believing that the urchinwould assuredly be found somewhere about the premises, and he referredto the departure of an exploring and hunting party under George Rennie,which had left Glen Lynden the previous day for the interior.
But when Groot Willem with his companions had ridden a considerable wayup the kloof, and found Junkie's spoor mingling with that of baboons, hebecame earnest. When he came to the gnarled tree and discovered that itwas joined by that of horses and Cape tigers, he became alarmed.
A diligent examination was made. Drops of blood were found on theground. The leopard itself was ultimately discovered stone dead in athicket with the poisoned arrow in its side, the horse-spoor wasfollowed up a long way, and then it was pretty clearly seen that thechild had been carried off by marauders of some sort.
Of course a thorough search was made and pursuit was immediatelyinstituted. Groot Willem and McTavish pushed on promptly to follow thespoor, while men were sent back to the glen for a supply of ammunition,etcetera, in case of a prolonged search becoming necessary.
The search was ably planned and vigorously carried out; but all in vain.Junkie had departed _that_ life as thoroughly as if he had never been,and Mrs Scholtz remained at Glen Lynden the very personification ofdespair.
We shall now turn to the exploring party which had left the BaviaansRiver on the previous day.
About this time the rumours of war among the natives of the vast andalmost unknown interior of the land had become unusually alarming. Awandering and warlike horde named the Fetcani had been, for some timepast, driving all the other tribes before them, and were said at last tobe approaching the Winterberg frontier of the colony. In order toascertain what foundation there was for these reports, as well as toexplore the land, the party under Rennie was sent out. Among those whoformed this party were Charlie Considine, Hans Marais, Sandy Black andhis satellite Jerry Goldboy, Andrew Rivers, Diederik and ChristianMuller, and the tall black-bearded hunter Lucas Van Dyk, besidesSlinger, Dikkop, and other Hottentots and Bushmen.
"This is what I call real enjoyment," said Considine, as he rode withHans, somewhat in advance of the cavalcade;--"splendid weather,magnificent scenery, lots of game big and little, good health andfreedom. What more could a man wish?"
"Ja," said Hans quietly; "you have reason to be thankful--yet there ismore to wish for."
"What more?" asked Considine.
"That the whole world were as happy as yourself," said Hans, lookingfull at his friend with a bland smile.
"And so I do wish that," returned Considine with enthusiasm.
"Do you?" asked Hans, with a look of surprise.
"Of course I do; wh
y do you doubt it?" asked his friend, with aperplexed look.
Hans did not reply, but continued to gaze at the mountain-range towardswhich the party was riding.
And, truly, it was a prospect which might well absorb the attention andadmiration of men less capable of being affected by the beauties ofnature than Hans Marais.
They were passing through a verdant glen at the foot of the mountains,the air of which was perfumed with wild flowers, and filled with thegarrulous music of paroquets and monkeys. In front lay the grand rangeof the Winterberg, with its coronet of rocks, its frowning steeps, itsgrassy slopes, and its skirts feathered over with straggling forest,--all bathed in the rich warm glow of an African sunset.
"You have not answered me, Hans," said Considine, after a pause. "Whydo you think I am indifferent to the world's happiness?"
"Because," replied the other, with an expression unusually serious onhis countenance, "I do not see that you make any effort--beyond beinggood-natured and amiable, which you cannot help--to make the worldbetter."
Considine looked at his friend with surprise, and replied, with alaugh--"Why, Hans, you are displaying a new phase of character. Yourremark is undoubtedly true--so true indeed that, although I object tothat commonplace retort,--`You're another,'--I cannot help pointing outthat it applies equally to yourself."
"It is just because it applies equably to myself that I make it,"rejoined Hans, with unaltered gravity. "You and I profess to beChristians, we both think that we are guided by Christian principles--and doubtless, to some extent, we are, but what have we done for thecause that we call `good,' that is good? I speak for myself at allevents--I have hitherto done nothing, absolutely nothing."
"My dear fellow," said Considine, with a sudden burst of candour, "Ibelieve you are right, and I plead guilty; but then what can we do? Weare not clergymen."
"Stephen Orpin is not a clergyman, yet see what _he_ does. It wasseeing what that man does, and how he lives, that first set mea-thinking on this subject. He attends to his ordinary calling quite aswell as any man of my acquaintance, and, I'll be bound, makes a goodthing of it, but any man with half an eye can see that he makes itsubservient to the great work of serving the Saviour, whom you and Iprofess to love. I have seen him suffer loss rather than work on theLord's day. More than once I've seen him gain discredit for hisso-called fanaticism. He is an earnest man, eagerly seeking an endwhich is _outside_ himself, therefore he is a happy man. To be eager inpursuit, is to be in a great degree happy, even when the pursuit is atrifling one; if it be a great and good one, the result must be greaterhappiness; if the pursuit has reference to things beyond this life, andultimate success is hoped for in the next, it seems to me that _lasting_as well as _highest_ happiness may thus be attained. Love of self,Charlie, is _not_ a bad motive, as some folk would falsely teach us.The Almighty put love of self within us. It is only when love of selfis a superlative affection that it is sinful, because idolatrous. Whenit is said that `love is the fulfilling of the law,' it is not love toGod merely that is meant, I think, but love to Him supremely, and to allcreated things as well, self included, because if you can conceive ofthis passion being our motive power, and fairly balanced in ourbreasts--God and all created beings and things occupying their rightrelative positions,--self, although dethroned, would not be ignored.Depend on it, Charlie, there is something wrong _here_."
The young Dutchman smote himself heavily on his broad chest, and lookedat his friend for a reply.
What that reply was we need not pause to say. These two young men eversince their first acquaintance had regarded each other with feelingsakin to those of David and Jonathan, but they had not up to this timeopened to each other those inner chambers of the soul, where the secretsprings of life keep working continually in the dark, whether we regardthem or not--working oftentimes harshly for want of the oil of humanintercourse and sympathy. The floodgates were now opened, and the twofriends began to discourse on things pertaining to the soul and theSaviour and the world to come, whereby they found that theirappreciation and enjoyment of the good things even of this life wasincreased considerably. Subsequently they discovered the explanation ofthis increased power of enjoyment, in that Word which throws light onall things, where it is written that "godliness is profitable for thelife that now is, as well as that which is to come."