That Barlow was very angry over his failure to compel Oscar to purchase his outfit and supplies of him at the prices he set upon them was evident from the manner in which he ground his teeth and shook his fists in the air as he strode rapidly along.
He walked the whole length of the principal street, and finally turned toward a dilapidated Kaffir kraal, in the open door of which sat a young man, smoking a dingy pipe and watching a span of oxen that were feeding close at hand.
This was the "friend" of whose varied accomplishments as a hunter the cattle-dealer had spoken in terms so flattering; but if Oscar could have seen him he would have thought twice before consenting to take him as a companion on a long and perilous journey.
His appearance was against him. His face bore the traces of recent dissipation, and there was a swaggering, rowdyish air about him that would not have suited Oscar at all.
Close beside the kraal was the wagon that Barlow had tried so hard to force upon our hero, and a most disreputable affair it was. It had been newly painted, to conceal some of the numerous injuries it had received during the long years it had been in service; the dissel-boom and both the axle-trees were strengthened with strips of raw-hide; the canvas tent was torn and patched in a dozen places, and the chests and water-butts looked as though they were about to fall to pieces.
The oxen feeding close by, and which were a part of "the best outfit to be had in the colony," were a fit team for such a wagon as this, for they were in strict keeping with it.
A more forlorn and vicious-looking lot of brutes it would have been hard to find anywhere. The whole concern was not worth half the money Barlow had demanded for the wagon alone.
"Well, Thomas," said the cattle-dealer assoon as he came within speaking distance of his friend, "that little game is blocked."
Thomas uttered a rough exclamation and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. He looked disappointed as well as angry.
It was plain that these two worthies had hoped to make something handsome out of Oscar.
"Yes," continued Barlow, "it's blocked. I had thought to rope him in very easy, but he's much too knowing."
"I didn't expect any of the time that you could do anything with him," growled Thomas. "They say that those fellows from the other side the pond are awful sharp, and cut their eye-teeth early."
"And aren't we sharp, too, I'd like to know?" demanded Barlow. "He hasn't got out of the colony yet. I told him that I had seen more than one traveller break down before he got over the town hill, and we must see to it that he breaks down, too. Understand?"
"I think I do," answered Thomas, with a grin.
Thrusting his hand into the inside pocket of his coat, he took out a well-worn wallet and produced from it something that looked like a watch-spring.
"The teeth are pretty small, but they have cut through a heap of iron," said he, drawing the spring out to its full length.
"If you can give them a chance to cut into the Yankee's trek-tow it will be the best job they ever did for us," said Barlow. "If he buys his oxen and wagons of the farmers, and his supplies at Maritzburg, his outfit will be a splendid one, and breaking him down will be as good as finding a new diamond field. We're going to see fun in a few days. There's another chap in town—a colonel of something or other—who has been taken in hand by Harris and the rest of the boys. They have sold him a wagon and a span of oxen at a good price, and contracted to furnish him with supplies here in Durban. They have hired the right kind of men for him, and when he tries to climb the town hill he'll find himself in a fix. Won't they bleed him, though! I might have made a few poundsout of him," added the cattle-dealer, with a long-drawn sigh, "but I didn't bother with him, for I was sure I could manage this Yankee boy to suit me. No matter; he isn't out of our reach yet, and we'll make him open his eyes."
Meanwhile Oscar, all unconscious of the plans that were being laid against him, returned to Mr. Morgan's office, and reported the result of his interview with the cattle-dealer.
"Wouldn't it be a good plan for you to say a word to the colonel?" he asked, after he had told where and when he first met that gentleman. "You are a countryman of his, and might have some influence with him."
"I'll not go near him. He's a snob. His men will smash his wagon if they can't discourage him in any other way, and then desert him. You see if they don't. Now we will go to lunch, and after that we will ride out into the country to see a man who will sell you a wagon worth your money. He will sell you a span of oxen, too, but I would not advise you to buy of him,—and neither willhe,—for you can do much better in Maritzburg."
When Oscar went to bed that night he was the owner of a ponderous Cape wagon, entirely new, and two salted horses, all of which had cost him £310.
He had taken a cordial leave of the editor, after thanking him for his advice and for the interest he had taken in the affairs of one who was an entire stranger to him, and at daylight the next morning seated himself in a post-cart and was driven rapidly toward Maritzburg.
He had also bargained with the farmer of whom he purchased his wagon and horses to haul his goods up from Port Natal.
With Mr. Morgan's aid he had secured a small pack of mongrel dogs, deerhounds, greyhounds, pointers, and curs, which was to be brought up with the wagon.
While on the way to Maritzburg Oscar saw something that made him think of his double-barrel, that was stowed away in his trunk under the seat. It was a flock of white-necked ravens. They sat on the trees by the roadside, and showed no signs of alarm as thepost-cart dashed by so close to them that the driver could have touched them with his whip if he had made the attempt.
Oscar looked closely at them, noting the attitude of their bodies and the position in which their heads were held, so that he would know how to set up his specimens after he had shot them.
No sooner had Oscar reached his destination than he was surrounded by a new gang of cattle-dealers, who, having learned that he was going up the country, insisted on selling him an outfit.
But the boy dismissed them in the most unceremonious manner, and lost no time in hunting up Judge Donahue and Mr. McElroy.
These gentlemen received him with the greatest courtesy, and were untiring in their efforts to assist him. They superintended the buying of his provisions, hired for him men who they knew could be trusted, and selected a span of oxen which looked very unlike the one Barlow wanted to sell him.
His driver and fore-loper were Hottentots;his "boss"—who was also the interpreter and man-of-all-work—was a Kaffir, who spoke English well enough to make himself understood; and his cook was an Irishman, with a rich brogue and an inexhaustible fund of humor.
The Hottentots and Kaffir were engaged to go with Oscar wherever he went, and to return with him to Maritzburg; while the Irishman was to go no further than Leichtberg, in the Transvaal, where he expected to find relatives.
Paddy O'Brian was a genuine son of the Old Sod. He wore velveteen knee-breeches, long stockings, and hob-nail shoes, and carried all his worldly possessions tied up in a handkerchief, which, when travelling, he slung over his shoulder, on the end of a blackthorn stick that he had used in more than one faction fight.
He had never seen any animal more to be dreaded than a pugnacious billy-goat, and had never handled a gun, but he had for several months officiated as cook in the family of Judge Donahue, who recommended him as an honest, painstaking man, and one who wouldnot let a hungry sportsman starve while waiting for his dinner.
He excited Oscar's mirth every hour in the day, especially when he addressed him as "me lord."
Although Paddy had kissed the blarney stone, there was no blarney about this. He thought that every man who came to Africa to hunt must of necessity be an English nobleman, for he did not believe that anybody else had money to spend in that way.
The offer of ten pounds for the faithful performance of his duties as cook almost took his breath away.
While Oscar was engaged in making ready for his departure two interesting incidents happened.
The first was the arrival of Barlow and his man Thomas, both of whom lived in Maritzburg. They came seated in their rattletrap of a wagon, and drawn by their span of crow-bait oxen, which acted all the time as if they were on the lookout for an excuse to become "rusty."
The driver's arms must have ached, for hewas compelled to belabor them continually in order to keep them in motion.
Barlow and his man were not long in finding out how things were going, and when they saw Oscar's outfit, which was fully as expensive and as complete in all its details as any they had ever seen before, they became all the more determined that they would compel him to sell out, so that they could purchase it for a mere tithe of its value.
But they did not know how wary and resolute a boy they had to deal with.
Acting upon Judge Donahue's advice, Oscar put his oxen and horses into the pound every night, and taking Paddy O'Brian into his confidence, ordered him to sleep in the wagon.
Paddy, being always ready for a row, willingly complied, and it would have given him the greatest pleasure to break the head of anybody who ventured to tamper with that vehicle or its cargo.
One thing that amused Oscar exceedingly was the perseverance exhibited by his landlord in trying to "pump" him and his servants; but he got no satisfaction.
Oscar would not talk about his private affairs, and his men could not, for they knew nothing about them.
In fact, no one knew much about him or his business except the few gentlemen to whom he had been introduced, and he was looked upon by "outsiders" as a very mysterious person.
The other interesting incident of which we have spoken was the arrival of Colonel Dunhaven, who came in grand style, riding a fine horse, and closely followed by his body-servant, who rode another equally as good.
He had fared better at the hands of the cattle-dealers, so far as the appearance of his outfit was concerned, than Oscar thought he would.
His cattle, although they were not to be compared to Oscar's slick Zulus, were in a tolerably fair condition.
His wagon was a very good one, and he had servants enough for half a dozen hunters; but his head man looked too much like Thomas to be trusted.
The colonel galloped up to the porch, threw his reins to Roberts, and went into the hotel.
When Oscar arose the next morning and looked down into the stable-yard he saw that it was empty. The colonel's wagon had gone on toward Howick, and the colonel himself was in the parlor eating an early breakfast, preparatory to following it on horseback.
A glance at his own wagon, which stood in front of the supply store, on the other side of the street, showed him that the cattle-dealers were out in full force, and that those he had seen loitering about the hotel ever since he arrived there had been joined by Harris and the rest of the "boys" who had supplied Colonel Dunhaven with his outfit.
The sight of them did not trouble him, however, for Paddy O'Brian was sittingon the dissel-boom, with his stick in his hand, and the dogs were lying under the wagon.
"That would be a bad crowd for those rascals to meddle with," thought Oscar as he put on his clothes. "Paddy looks as though he could handle two or three ordinary men, and I am certain that there are some dogs in that pack that would just as soon take hold of a fellow as to let him alone. Indeed, I am afraid of them myself. There he goes!" added the young hunter as the colonel and his servant rode away from the hotel steps, neither of them paying the least attention to the boisterous farewells that were shouted at them by the cattle-dealers across the street. "I shall expect to hear from him in the course of two or three days."
Oscar heard from the colonel in less than one day—that very afternoon, in fact. While he was seated in the parlor he heard a heavy step in the barroom, and Barlow's voice addressing the landlord.
"That's one smash-up," said the cattle-dealer in a tone of exultation. "Harris andthe rest of 'em worked it pretty slick on that English snob."
"What has happened?" inquired Mr. Dibbits.
"Trek-tow broke—that's all; and the colonel is up to the blacksmith shop getting it repaired, and swearing about the beastly hills we have here in Africa. I say, old fellow, we must break up that little Yankee in some way. He's got a splendid outfit, everything top-notch, and there's a pile of money in it if we can only make him sell out. Harris tried to bribe that Irishman of his to leave the wagon, but Paddy told him to hold his jaw and wouldn't stir a step."
Barlow went out, and Oscar laid down his pen and walked to the window. His wagon, fully loaded and ready for the start, had been backed under one of the sheds, and Paddy O'Brian sat at his ease on the dissel-boom, puffing at a short pipe, and blowing the smoke into the eyes and nostrils of the dogs whenever they showed a disposition to become too familiar. Oscar raised the window and called to him.
"Take off your caubeen, if that's what you call it in Irish," said he. "I've got something for you."
Paddy doffed his hat, and his employer tossed a couple of sovereigns into it.
"That isn't to be taken out of your wages, Paddy," Oscar explained. "It is a present from me. You may want to buy something for yourself or your sweetheart before we start. Judge Donahue tells me you have a sweetheart."
"Long life to your honor!" cried the Irishman as soon as he had recovered from his surprise.
"That is to reward you for being faithful to your trust," continued Oscar. "You see you didn't lose anything by refusing to take the bribe Harris offered you this morning."
Paddy began to understand the matter now. He backed away from the window, and, looking through the gateway, saw the man who had tried to bribe him passing along the street.
"There he is overbeyont. Say the worrud, your honor, an' I'll go an' bate him."
"No, no!" said Oscar quickly. "That would never do. The way for you to beat him is to keep a close watch over the wagon. Don't allow a stranger to go near it."
"Bedad, I won't, then," said Paddy.
He went back to the shed, and Oscar closed the window, but stood looking through it, watching the motions of his faithful servitor.
The latter took the money out of his hat, jingled it in his closed hands, and finally put it carefully away in his pocket. Then he jumped up and executed a wild Irish war-dance, at the same time whirling his stick viciously in the air and uttering suppressed whoops.
"The only thing that man needs now to make him supremely happy is a head to crack," thought Oscar as he went back to his writing. "I don't think it would be quite safe for anybody to make another attempt to bribe him."
Having completed and mailed his letters, Oscar went about his unfinished business, feeling perfectly satisfied that the care of his outfit had been committed to trusty hands.
Two or three times during the afternoon and evening he heard from Colonel Dunhaven through Judge Donahue, who told him that the man who knew so much about travelling in Africa that he would not ask advice of anybody was having an exceedingly hard time of it.
His oxen, after breaking the trek-tow faster than the blacksmith could mend it, had at last turned "rusty" and run the wagon into an ant-bear's hole, in which it was so hopelessly "stalled" that it would take an extra span of oxen to draw it out.
"But even if he finds anybody who is accommodating enough to haul him out on hard ground, he will not be any better off than he is now," added the judge. "His whole rigging has been sawed into, and if the town hill does not prove to be an obstacle he cannot get over, the Drackenberg will."
The next morning Oscar dressed himself in one of the moleskin suits he had purchased in England and packed his trunk, which was stowed away in the wagon.
He had ordered his driver to start for Howickat an early hour, and when he went downstairs he found everything in readiness for inspanning as soon as the oxen were brought from the pound.
His interpreter and the two Hottentots had gone after them. Paddy O'Brian occupied his usual seat on the dissel-boom, twirling his stick in one hand and holding fast to a saddled horse with the other. Oscar opened the window and Paddy got upon his feet.
"Good-morning to your honor!" he exclaimed. "An' can I go now, I dunno?"
"Yes, go on," answered Oscar. "But be sure and join the wagon when you hear it go by the house."
Paddy got into the saddle and rode off to pay his last visit to his sweetheart, and to present her with a few trifles he had purchased with the two sovereigns he had earned by his devotion to duty.
Barlow, who was always on the watch, saw him ride out of the gate, and, believing that the wagon was left unguarded, made all haste to send his man Thomas into the stable-yard to operate on the trek-tow with his saw. ButOscar, who was on the watch, detected him in the act, and defeated his plans, as we have already described.
While the boy stood at the window Colonel Dunhaven, utterly disgusted with his short experience of African life, came into the room, and after using some pretty strong language regarding the country and Oscar's business in it, began to talk of selling out and going home.
Our hero had a long conversation with him, and during its progress the colonel was amazed to learn that the humble American youth had brought with him letters from some of the best known men in England.
Thenhis icy reserve melted, and he was as affable as one could wish; but he did not succeed in working his way into Oscar's good graces. It was too late. The boy, as we have said, had seen quite enough of him.
"When I saw you with those cattle-dealers in Durban I knew that you were going to be cheated," said Oscar as he and the colonel seated themselves. "I tried to make you understand it, but you told me, in effect, thatit was none of my business. One of those men behind us tried to force a most inferior outfit on me, and threatened to prosecute me because I declined to be imposed upon. Did you examine your trek-tow to see if anybody had been fooling with it?"
"No," said the colonel in surprise.
"You ought to have done so. I know that you are a victim of treachery."
"I know that, also. Didn't I tell you that my servants had deserted me, and that my cattle and horses had been allowed to stray away?"
"The men from whom you purchased your outfit are responsible for all that. They intend to keep you here if they possibly can."
"And for what purpose, pray?" asked the colonel, still more astonished.
"They want to force you to sell your goods back to them for a good deal less than you gave for them. I know what I am talking about, for I have heard stories of their villainy told by a dozen different gentlemen who are acquainted with their way of doing business."
Just at that moment, as if to corroboratethese words, Barlow approached and laid his hand familiarly on the colonel's shoulder.
The surprised Englishman quickly brought his eyeglass to a focus and stared up at him as if he meant to annihilate him by his angry glances.
"Fellow!" he vociferated, promptly shaking off the cattle-dealer's hand.
"No offence, sir," said Barlow, who, having an eye to prospective profits, could not afford to make the colonel angry. "I heard you say something just now about selling out."
"And if I did speak of it what's that to you, I would like to know?" demanded the colonel angrily.
"It is just this much to me," answered Barlow in his free-and-easy way. "If you want to sell out I am the man you are looking for. I want a rig just like yours, and a wagon-load of supplies; and if you are open for a bargain I will make you an offer now, and pay you cash in hand."
"I decline to exchange any more words with you," said the colonel.
"Well, think it over, then, will you, and letme know what you decide to do. Remember, I want the first chance."
The Englishman made no reply. He turned his back to the cattle-dealer, and, taking off his eyeglass, thrust it into his pocket with a rather vicious movement.
"What did I tell you?" said Oscar when Barlow had gone back to his companions at the bar. "That man is probably working for the ones of whom you bought your outfit. They are all in league, and don't mean to let you get over the town hill if they can help it."
"I don't see how you have escaped their persecutions," said the colonel.
"I haven't escaped them altogether. I saw a man in the act of cutting into one of the links of my trek-tow just now, but when I went out to catch him the landlord, or some other friend of his, warned him, and he got safely off. He did the chain no damage, however, for I gave him no time. I bought a good outfit all through—and I'll warrant it didn't cost me as much money as you paid for yours—and after I got it I kept watch over it night and day."
"I don't know what to do," said the colonel, looking down at the floor in a brown study. "My wagon is in a terrible fix, but I don't like to give up."
"I wouldn't give up," said Oscar promptly. "If I were in your place, I should go back to the wagon. It must be watched every minute, and your man Roberts can't stand guard all day and all night too. He must be relieved, so that he can get some sleep. I shall be detained in town until one o'clock, probably, and then I shall go on after my wagon, and spend the rest of the night with it. To-morrow we will put our two teams together and see what they can do. What do you think of the proposition?"
The colonel thought it a good one, and was glad to accept it. Acting upon Oscar's suggestion, he ordered out his horse and rode away.
The boy watched him as long as he remained in sight, frequently saying to himself:
"I knew I would some day have a chance to get even with him, but I didn't think it would come so soon."
"Hurrouch! Look out there! Bedad I'll break the head of yez!"
This was the way in which Oscar Preston was welcomed when he dismounted in front of his wagon, about three o'clock in the morning, and put his foot upon the dissel-boom, preparatory to climbing in and taking possession of the swinging cot that was slung up under the arches which supported the canvas tent.
He had passed a very pleasant evening in the company of the gentlemen he had invited to enjoy his hospitality at Mr. Dibbit's hotel. The dinner was excellent, for the worthy landlord knew how to serve those who had the money to pay for his attentions, and after full justice had been done to it, and he had taken leave of his friends, each of whom gave himsome additional advice in regard to the route to be pursued, and the manner in which he ought to conduct himself in certain emergencies, Oscar mounted his horse, which, for want of a better name, he had christened "Little Gray," and rode toward Howick.
About a mile beyond the blacksmith shop he discovered a wagon on the veldt, or open field, which he judged to be Colonel Dunhaven's. It was lying almost on its side, and there were no living things to be seen about it, no oxen or horses, or even a dog to challenge him.
His own camp, which he reached after he had ridden about ten miles further on, presented a more cheerful appearance. The huge wagon was right side up, and there was a fire burning brightly beside it.
His oxen, fastened two and two in their yokes, were lying at their ease, "chewing the cud of contentment"; the horse Paddy O'Brian had ridden away from the hotel in the morning was tied to one of the hind wheels of the wagon, and the dogs were curled up under it.
Awakened by the sound of his horse's feet, they came out in a body and welcomed him vociferously.
Having quieted them, Oscar dismounted, and while he was taking the saddle off Little Gray and tying him beside his mate he heard a rustling in the wagon and a voice muttering:
"Hould aisy there, ye blackgarrud!"
Oscar laughed silently, and told himself that he had not the slightest reason to fear that his property would be interfered with so long as Paddy O'Brian had anything to do with it. He walked around the wagon to warm his hands at the fire (it was cold, and the heavy overcoat he wore was not at all uncomfortable), and saw his native servants sleeping there, covered up, head and ears, with their skin cloaks.
"I am all right so far," thought Oscar as he looked about him with a pleased expression on his face, and thought of the trials that had been so graphically described to him. "Thanks to my good friends, I have escaped every annoyance. I am almost sorry I offered to assist the colonel, for I shall lose muchvaluable time by it. I know he never would have offered to help me if I had been in trouble. How he would have stared at me through that eyeglass of his if he had seen me hopelessly stalled and my oxen rusty, while his own team was moving smoothly along the hard road! But that's the way I am going to get even with him."
Having thoroughly warmed himself at the fire, Oscar turned toward the wagon; but no sooner had he laid his hand upon the fore-chest than Paddy O'Brian's blackthorn stick whirled through the air and struck the lid with a sounding whack.
Fortunately he missed his aim in the dark, but the unexpected attack startled Oscar, who jumped back with an angry exclamation.
"If I hurted yez I beg yer pardon," said Paddy in a sympathetic tone. "But kape away from that wagon, for I'm the best little man in Afriky."
During his long intercourse with the honest but combative Irishman Oscar could discover but one fault in him, and that was, it tookhim forever to wake up. Oscar could spring from his cot, rifle in hand, at any hour of the night, and the moment he landed on his feet all his senses came to him, and he knew just what he was about, but Paddy never found his wits until he had done something he ought not to have done.
He gave a ludicrous example of this one night, and came very near sealing his death warrant by it. What it was shall be told in its proper place.
"If you think you are going to get a fight out of me you are mistaken," said Oscar.
Paddy, who was wide awake now, was profuse in his apologies.
"It's all right," said his employer; "but in future don't be quite so free with that stick of yours. Be sure you are striking at the right man."
Oscar slept soundly in his comfortable bed, and at daylight was awakened by his cook, who called him to breakfast. He ate alone, sitting in a camp-chair beside a cheerful fire which Paddy O'Brian had kindled for his especial benefit, and as he sipped his coffeeand looked around at his possessions he felt like a young monarch.
This was his first taste of African life. In this way he was to live for long months to come.
Breakfast over, Oscar began to bestir himself and to issue some rapid orders, which were as rapidly obeyed. A saddle was put on Little Gray, the oxen were fastened to the trek-tow and started back toward Colonel Dunhaven's disabled wagon, led by the fore-loper and followed by the driver and interpreter, the latter being armed with a jambok, which is a long, pliable whip made of rhinoceros-hide.
After seeing them well under way Oscar gave his cook some minute instructions regarding the duties that were to occupy his attention during his absence, and then mounted his horse and set out at a gallop.
When he came within sight of the colonel's wagon he did not see anybody about it. Greatly surprised at this, he rode up, and, drawing aside the fly, looked into the tent, fully expecting to find it deserted; but therewas the colonel, fast asleep in his swinging cot, and Roberts snoring on the fore-chest.
"You are a pretty pair, I must say," thought the boy, whose first impulse was to go back to his own wagon, leaving the colonel to get out of his predicament as best he could. "I have come ten miles on purpose to help you, only to find you both fast asleep. Look here!" he shouted. "This will never do. You ought to have been at work on this wagon at the first peep of day."
"Aw!" said the colonel, raising himself on his elbow and rubbing his eyes, while Roberts rolled off the fore-chest with alacrity. "Is that you, Mr. Preston?"
"Yes, it is I; and I have caught you both in bed," replied Oscar in no very amiable tones. "If you want any of my help look alive. Where is your jack-screw?"
"Jack-screw?" repeated the colonel languidly, sinking back on his pillow and putting his hands under his head. "Really I don't think we have such an article in the outfit! Have we, Roberts?"
"No, sir," replied the latter promptly.
Oscar could hardly believe his ears. One of the most necessary implements—one that is used in African travel as often as a spade or a pick—had been left behind. The colonel might as well have come away from Maritzburg without his "battery."
"Harris said we didn't need any," added Roberts.
"That wasn't the only falsehood he told you," said Oscar in disgust. "How do you suppose you are going to get that wheel out of there?"
"I don't know, I am sure, unless we pull it out with the oxen," drawled the colonel.
"There are not oxen enough in the country to pull it out, and neither was there a trek-tow ever made that would stand the strain," answered the boy, who was almost ready to boil over when he saw how indifferent the person most interested in the matter of extricating the wagon seemed to be. "Neither have you any oxen—at least I don't see any," he continued, looking all around the field.
"Why, didn't you bring any with you?"asked the colonel, raising himself on his elbow again.
He looked interested now, and there was something in the tone of his voice, and in the expression of his face, that provoked Oscar, who knew then, as well as though the colonel had explained it to him, that his offer of assistance had been taken in a very broad sense.
The colonel expected that Oscar would draw his wagon out on firm ground, and that he himself would have no trouble about it. He expected to pay, and to pay liberally, for the service, but he wanted nothing to do with the work.
While it was being done he would sit by in a camp-chair and smoke his pipe and look on, while Roberts held an umbrella over his head.
But Oscar did not intend to waste any of the committee's time in working for money. He had simply offered to assist the colonel, but he did not expect that all the responsibility would be shifted upon his own shoulders.
"My oxen are coming," replied Oscar, "butit will be an hour or more before they will get here. By that time the dew will be off the grass, and they must be turned loose to graze. Why didn't you bring your oxen up yesterday?"
"My dear fellow, didn't I tell you that my servants have all deserted me?" answered the colonel.
"Then, why didn't you go in search of them yourself?"
"Because I don't choose to do work that others are paid to do for me."
"You'll have to act as your own servant if you get anything done," said Oscar. "Suppose you send Roberts down to the blacksmith shop after a jack-screw."
This proposition fairly staggered Roberts, who looked first at Oscar and then at his own spotless livery.
"What harm is there in it?" demanded the boy sharply. "You'll have to do worse things than that before you get back. You had better put your pride in your pocket while you stay in this country, for if you think you are going to keep those clotheslooking as nice as they do now you will be disappointed."
"Why can't you send one of your own men?" asked Roberts.
"Because they are not here, and when they arrive they will have to herd the cattle to keep them from straying away. I didn't agree to boss this job—I only offered to help; and seeing that you are not going to do anything about it, I will bid you good-day."
"Stop! stop!" cried the colonel in an imperious tone. "Set your price, and go to work and get the wagon out the best way you can."
"I can't get it out with one team and only three men to do the work. You ought to have had your oxen and servants here bright and early."
"How in the world was I to get them when I didn't know where they were?"
"You ought to have found out where they were. But I have wasted time enough. Good-day."
Oscar turned his horse's head toward his own camp, and rode rapidly until he had met and sent back the oxen.
After that he allowed his horse to settle down into a walk; and as he rode along he thought over the events of the morning, and wondered how much the outside world would have known about Africa if all Englishmen had been like Colonel Dunhaven.
Oscar had not been able to "get even" with him, after all, but he had shown his good will.
As soon as the oxen reached the wagon they were turned loose to graze. By the time they had eaten their fill it was too hot to travel, and so Oscar took to his wagon and wrote up his diary.
At three o'clock in the afternoon he gave the order to inspan, and shortly after sunset went into camp within sight of the town of Howick.
We wish we could say that from this time forward Oscar prosecuted his journey without any mishap, but such was not the case. Accidents of all kinds were of almost daily occurrence, and that was no more than one could expect in a country in which the roads are left to take care of themselves, and are passable only for the strongest of wagons, drawn by teams the most powerful.
Before the foot of the Drackenberg Mountains was reached Oscar had fashioned three new dissel-booms with his own hands, and the trek-tow had been repaired more than once. But there was something of which he no longer stood in fear, and that was treachery. His men were all capable, honest, and willing, and never shirked their share of the work.
Before attempting the ascent of the dreadedDrackenberg Oscar off-loaded and had his wagon thoroughly overhauled by a blacksmith.
He afterward told himself that it was well he did so, for he found the pass to be the worst place he ever got into. His own oxen alone never could have pulled his heavy wagon up that steep incline.
But, as good luck would have it, he came up with a couple of Dutch farmers, who had spent two days in camp at the foot of the mountains, smoking their pipes, and looking first at the pass and then at their wagons, and trying to make up their minds whether or not they could reach the top with two teams to each vehicle.
It was three o'clock in the afternoon when Oscar found them. He immediately out-spanned a little distance away, and, in company with his interpreter, went over to invite the Boers to drink coffee with him; but, to his surprise, the men flatly refused to have anything to do with him.
"What's the matter with them, Thompson?" asked Oscar.
"They say they don't like Englishmen, and won't drink coffee with them," answered the interpreter.
"But I am not an Englishman," said Oscar. "Ask them if they ever heard of America. I don't suppose they ever did," he added to himself.
In this the boy was happily mistaken. The Boers could not understand all he said (it turned out afterward that they were by no means as ignorant of the English language as they pretended to be), but they caught the word "America," and straightway began to exhibit a lively interest in our hero—that is, as lively an interest as men of their temperament could exhibit in anything.
They took their pipes out of their mouths and looked at him, while something that was doubtless intended for a smile overspread their faces.
When the boy walked up and offered them his hand they took it and shook it cordially.
"Now, Thompson, ask them again if they will come over and have some coffee," said Oscar.
The men did not refuse this time. A Boer is very fond of coffee, and although there are few of them who will spend any of their own money for it, they are quite willing to drink it when it is provided at the expense of somebody else.
Oscar's guests emptied their cups almost as fast as Paddy O'Brian could fill them, and poured the hot liquid down their throats in a way that made that worthy individual open his eyes.
"Now, Thompson," said Oscar when the huge coffee-pot had been drained of its last drop, "tell them that if they will help me pull my wagon over the Drackenberg I will help them pull theirs over."
This was a very plain and simple proposition, and it seemed as though anybody ought to have understood it; but it was evident that the Boers did not.
When Big Thompson repeated his employer's words to them in Dutch they arose from their seats, went a little way from the wagon, and held a long and earnest consultation.
Then they came back, and, through theinterpreter, asked that the proposal might be repeated. This they did so many times that Oscar began to be provoked, and to wonder at their stupidity.
He afterward learned that this way of doing business was characteristic of the Dutch farmers. They never would accept any offer until they had consulted with some of their friends, and it was impossible to hurry them.
Oscar's guests, although they were anxious to get over the mountains, were fully half an hour in making up their minds whether or not they would accept the proposition that had been made them; but they did accept it at last, and after the bargain had been ratified by another pot of coffee, liberally sweetened, they went back to their camp, and Oscar proceeded at once to inspan. Half an hour afterward his wagon moved off, drawn by thirty-six oxen, and began the toilsome ascent.
It was ten hours' hard work to reach the summit. Strong and willing as most of the oxen were, they could not draw the heavy vehicle more than fifty feet without stoppingto take breath, and then it was necessary that the wheels should be blocked with large stones, the brakes not being powerful enough to hold them.
While Oscar was toiling up the pass behind one of the wheels, carrying in his arms a stone weighing between twenty and thirty pounds, one of the Boers, similarly provided, following close behind the other, he often thought of Colonel Dunhaven, and wondered what the man who had been ready to give up in despair because his wagon had been "stalled" on level ground would have thought of such work as this.
There was danger in it, too, as Oscar learned before he had gone a great way, for whenever they reached a particularly bad portion of the road, where the rocks arose on one side and a gulf yawned on the other, the Boer, who had by this time found out that he could talk a little English, was sure to remark that a wagon had gone over there only a short time before.
If Oscar's had gone over it would have taken a good many cattle with it unless thetrek-tow broke; but, fortunately, no accident happened.
The skilful drivers—there were two of them besides Oscar's—accomplished the ascent in safety, and at last the summit of the pass was reached.
There a breathing spell was taken and more coffee drank, after which the Boers unhitched their oxen, leaving Oscar to take care of himself.
In two hours more his wagon was standing in the edge of a grassy plain, and Oscar was sleeping soundly in his cot, while Paddy O'Brian nodded over his pipe, and the Hottentots toiled back over the mountain to assist the Boers.
About noon Oscar awoke, feeling perfectly refreshed, and, drawing aside the fly of his tent, took a look at the dreaded Drackenberg by daylight.
It had been a bugbear to him from the start, and he had repeatedly been warned that, unless he were possessed of an unusual amount of pluck and determination, his journey would end when he reached it.
But it had been passed in safety, thanks to the friendly Boers, and it was a relief to him to know that he need not bother his head about it again, for a year at least.
Two days afterward Oscar reached Harrismith, and after outspanning below the town he climbed the hill and made inquiries for Mr. Hutchinson, to whom he had letters of introduction.
That gentleman said he was glad to see him, gave him a large package of letters and papers which Mr. Donahue had forwarded by post-cart, and invited him to dinner.
Oscar looked first at his letters and then at his clothes—which were beginning to show signs of wear—and wondered how he could decline the invitation.
"Never mind your clothes," said Mr. Hutchinson—a jolly old gentleman who reminded Oscar of his friend Captain Sterling. "We don't expect hunters to look as though they had just come out of some lady's bandbox."
"I am greatly obliged to you, sir," replied Oscar; "but when I tell you that these arethe first letters I have received from home since leaving Maritzburg I know you will not press the matter."
"Oh, oh—of course! Then say to-morrow—to-morrow evening at six, sharp."
Oscar accepted this invitation, and, picking up his package, hurried down the hill.
"Dinner at six," thought he as he quickened his pace almost to a run. "These English cling to their old-time customs wherever they go. I wouldn't delay the reading of these letters for the sake of all the dinners that were ever served up."
The wagon seemed to be a long way off; but Oscar reached it at last, and throwing himself upon his cot, tore open the package, and began sorting out its contents.
He found there several letters from his mother; others from Sam Hynes, Leon Parker, Captain Sterling, and Mr. Donahue.
The letters were long and full of news, and Oscar became so deeply interested in reading them that he did not know that Paddy O'Brian had twice called him to dinner.
"I don't want anything to eat," said hewhen Paddy had at last succeeded in attracting his attention by thumping the fore-chest with his stick. "I have something better on hand."
Oscar had not gone very far into his third letter before he felt as homesick as Leon Parker did when he found himself, friendless and alone, in the fort at Julesburg. A lump rose up in his throat, a mist gathered before his eyes, and, throwing down the letter, he sprang off his cot and rushed out of the wagon. It seemed to him that he would suffocate if he stayed in there a moment longer.
"Paddy," he exclaimed, "put the saddle on Little Gray!"
"And don't ye want any dinner at all at all?" asked the cook.
"No, I don't. Hurry up!"
Paddy made all haste to obey, and then stood and looked wonderingly after his employer, who, as soon as he was fairly seated on Little Gray's back, set off over the plain as if all the lions in Africa were close at his heels.
"I wish that wagon and its contents were at the bottom of the sea, and that I were safe in Eaton again," said Oscar to himself as he flew over the plain. "If I had gone through with my expedition and was on my way to the coast it would be bad enough; but as it is I don't wonder that Leon Parker had to take his bed. The doctors say that people have died of homesickness before now, and I believe it."
For a few minutes Oscar was certainly in a very bad way; but the fresh air and Little Gray's easy, rapid motion seemed to have a soothing effect on him, and after he had ridden a mile or more at a headlong gallop he turned about and went back to the wagon.
He knew that he must do something to keep up his spirits, and for want of somethingbetter he seated himself on the dissel-boom and talked to Paddy O'Brian.
It was the best thing he could have done. Paddy was as witty as any of his race, and after Oscar had enjoyed a few hearty laughs he climbed into the wagon and finished the reading of his letters. Then he set to work to answer them.
He was busy until long after midnight, writing by the light of a lantern that stood on the fore-chest, and he did not complete his task until three o'clock the next afternoon.
Then he took out of his trunk one of the extra suits of moleskin which he had not yet worn, and after making his toilet with a great deal of care, picked up his letters and climbed the hill to Harrismith to keep his appointment with Mr. Hutchinson.
That gentleman, who was acquainted with almost everybody in the country, gave him a letter to a friend who lived about a hundred and fifty miles distant, and before the dew was off the grass the next morning Oscar had left Harrismith a long way behind him.
Up to this time the young hunter hadsecured but a very few specimens, and they were mostly birds.
He had not taken a rifle out of its holster but once, and that was to shoot a baboon he saw frisking about in a rocky ravine through which the wagon passed, and whose skin was now stowed away in one of his chests.
He was getting into a game country, and almost every day he saw small herds of spring-bucks and wilde-beests feeding in plain view.
The temptation to stop and try a shot at them was strong, but he resisted it, for the reason that he thought it would be a waste of time.
He did not know how to hunt African game, and his object was to reach the home of Mr. Lawrence, a gentleman to whom he had been given letters of introduction, and whom he hoped to induce to act as his instructor.
Mr. Lawrence was a prosperous farmer as well as an enthusiastic sportsman. He had been in Africa long enough to know how to bag all the different kinds of game with which the country abounded, and he was engaged in his favorite recreation, riding to the hounds,when Oscar met him. It came about in this way:
When on the march the young hunter always rode quite half a mile in advance of the wagon, and one morning he had the good fortune to come within easy shooting distance of the largest herd of spring-bucks he had ever seen.
The little animals crossed the track not more than a hundred yards in advance of him, and Oscar had a fair view of them. They ran at the top of their speed, bounding along like so many rubber balls, and clearing from twelve to fifteen feet at a jump without the least apparent effort.
When they reached the wagon-track they sailed over it as easily as if they had been furnished with wings, and then trotted along with their noses close to the ground, as if they felt in a very sportive mood.
Being unarmed, Oscar could do nothing but sit in his saddle and look at them, reproaching himself the while for not bringing a rifle with him.
If he had had one of his double-barrels inhis hands he could have secured a couple of specimens and some fresh steaks for dinner without the least difficulty.
When the afternoon march began he rode out with an Express rifle on his shoulder, but he waited in vain for another herd of spring-bucks to cross the track. There were plenty of them in sight, but they took care to keep out of range.
The dogs, as usual, went off hunting on their own hook, but instead of driving the game in his direction they drove it farther away, and finally disappeared among the hills.
"Such a chance as I had this morning doesn't happen more than once in a fellow's lifetime," thought Oscar regretfully. "However, I have learned something by it. I know now how to set up a spring-buck if I ever get one, and have been convinced that in this country a hunter had better keep a rifle by him all the time."
Oscar went off into a revery, which lasted nearly an hour, and from which he was finally aroused by the baying of a hound. He didnot pay much attention to it at first, but when he found that there was more than one hound giving tongue, and that their music was growing louder every moment, he straightened up and began to look about him.
All at once a large, dark-brown animal appeared over the brow of a hill about a quarter of a mile to his right, and came toward him with the speed of the wind.
In an instant Oscar dropped to the ground, and looking over his horse's back, watched the movements of the game. He had scarcely taken up his position before a number of dogs came into view. They did not run in a compact body, as hounds usually do, but were spread out in a sort of skirmish order so as to cover each flank of their quarry. Oscar was quick to notice this, and he could not help congratulating himself on the intelligence displayed by his pack of mongrels.
"I had no idea they had so much sense," said he to himself. "The game, whatever it is, can't turn either way without running the risk of being caught. Its only chance is to keep straight ahead and outrun the dogs; butwhether or not it can do that is a question. I never saw them move so swiftly before."
Oscar drew his head further down behind the saddle as he cocked both barrels of his rifle and waited with a beating heart for a chance to shoot.
Just then the game, discovering an enemy in front, swerved from its course, presenting a full broadside, and giving the excited young hunter the first fair view of a wilde-beest (the gnu of the naturalist) he had ever had.
This movement sealed its fate. As quick as thought Oscar sprang around the head of his horse, which stood motionless in his tracks, raised his rifle to his shoulder, and holding far enough in advance of the gnu to make allowance for distance and motion, pressed the trigger.
The first shot was a clean miss, but the second bullet told loudly, and when the smoke cleared away Oscar had the satisfaction of seeing the gnu lying on the ground all in a heap.
"There's something for Yarmouth!" he shouted. "That was the best shot I ever made."
Oscar at once ran forward to secure his prize and to prevent the dogs when they came up from spoiling its skin. He was greatly delighted, as well he might be, for he had secured a splendid specimen.
He straightened it out and looked at it, lost in admiration. It was a little more than four feet in height at the shoulders, and its mane and tail looked so much like those of a horse that, had it not been for its horns and hoofs, it might have been taken for rather a long-legged Shetland pony.
"It is a beautiful specimen," said Oscar aloud as he walked slowly around the animal, so that he could view it from all sides.
"It certainly is, but I should like to know what business you have shooting my game?" said a voice near him.
Oscar looked up in the greatest surprise and saw a horseman standing within twenty feet of him. Where he came from so suddenly was a mystery.
"That's my wilde-beest," continued the stranger. "I have been following him for more than an hour. Turn him over and youwill see the mark of my bullet in his flank."
Oscar acted like a boy who had just been awakened out of a sound sleep. He rubbed his eyes to make sure that he was not dreaming, and then he saw that the dogs which had gathered about him, and whose speed and style of hunting he had so much admired, were not his own.
They were magnificent Scotch deer-hounds, and looked about as much like the members of his own pack as Oscar looked like the grinning little Hottentot who sat on his horse a short distance behind the man whose sudden and unexpected appearance had so startled and surprised him.
"How came you here?" asked Oscar as soon as he could speak.
He straightened up and took a good look at the hunter, and this is what he saw: A thick-set, broad-shouldered man, a gentleman on the face of him, dressed in a suit of white duck, cut in regular Boer style. His short jacket was open in front, showing the broad belt he wore about his waist and in which he carried his ammunition—at least Oscar thought so, for he saw a large powder-horn sticking out of one of his pockets. He wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head, and as much of his face as could be seen over his whiskers was as brown as sole-leather.
He carried a heavy double-barrelled rifle across the horn of his saddle, and rode a magnificent horse, whose glossy breast was fleckedwith foam, showing that he had been ridden long and rapidly.
Close behind the stranger, on another horse that looked equally as good, sat his Hottentot after-rider, who also carried a heavy rifle in his hands.
The hunter's face wore a good-natured smile, and there was a merry twinkle in his eye. He evidently enjoyed Oscar's surprise.
"Who are you?" continued the boy.
"Seeing that you have had the impudence to bag my game, I think that is a proper question for me to ask," was the reply.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Oscar, who had by this time fully recovered himself. "I supposed this gnu had been started by my own dogs. I didn't know that there was another white person within two days' journey of this place."
"Gnu!" repeated the stranger. "I haven't heard that word before in years. You are not English?"
"No, sir. I am an American."
"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed the hunter, now astonished in his turn. "And what in theworld are you doing out here, so far from home, may I ask?"
"I came here to procure specimens of natural history for a university museum," answered Oscar.
He expected that the hunter would be surprised, and he certainly was. Everybody was surprised when the boy told what his business was. Probably no one of his years had ever been engaged in such an undertaking before.
"Youdid!" exclaimed the horseman.
"Yes, sir,Idid," replied Oscar, who thought his new acquaintance looked a little incredulous. "And I have the papers to prove it."
"Where are your companions?"
"They are with the wagon. If you will ride on with me until I outspan I shall be glad to have you drink coffee with me. Of course this is your game, you having had the first shot at it, but, if you will permit me, I will put it into my wagon and save you the trouble of carrying it."
The horseman made no reply. The wagon came up just then, and while Paddy O'Brianand the Kaffir were putting the wilde-beest into it the strange hunter looked all around, as if he were searching for something or somebody he could not find. When the wagon moved on again Oscar mounted his horse and rode on ahead, in company with his new acquaintance.
"Where did you say your companions were?" the latter asked at length.
"These are all I have," answered Oscar—"a driver, fore-loper, interpreter, and cook."
The stranger was greatly amazed.
"Do you mean to tell me that you are the owner of this wagon and the leader of this expedition?" said he.
"I do, sir."
"And you, a mere lad, who has hardly got out of pinafores, have come out here all by yourself to—— It beats everything I ever heard of!"
"I have got on very well so far, sir, although I have taken but very few specimens. You see, I don't know how to hunt the game one finds here, but Idoknow right where I can go to get instructions. Do you know agentleman living somewhere in this country of the name of Lawrence?"
"I have a slight acquaintance with him."
Oscar looked at the stranger. There was something in the tone of his voice and in the expression of his face which told him that he was at that moment in the company of the man he wanted to see.
Hastily excusing himself, he rode back to the wagon, climbed into it, and took from one of the pockets a package of letters, with which he galloped back to his companion's side.
"Mr. Lawrence," said he, "my name is Oscar Preston, and there are letters of introduction to you which some of your friends were kind enough to give me."
The gentleman took the letters and read them as he rode along. When he had made himself master of their contents he turned in his saddle and shook the young hunter's hand.
"I am glad to see you, and I give you a hearty welcome," said he.
Then he issued some hasty orders in Dutch to his after-rider, who wheeled his horse and hastened back to the wagon.
"My house is only ten miles away," continued Mr. Lawrence, "and I have sent word to your driver not to outspan until he gets there. I confess that I am very greatly surprised at your—your—I was going to say foolhardiness; but no one can be called foolhardy who goes coolly and deliberately about a thing after he has counted well the cost, so I will say your courage and perseverance. I supposed, of course, that you had some person of years and experience with you to superintend matters. Young man, you have already done wonders, and if you keep on as you have begun there is no telling what you may not accomplish before you pass along this track again on your way to the coast. There is plenty of game about here belonging to the orderRuminantia. I suppose you know what I mean by that?"
"Certainly, sir. You mean animals that chew the cud."
"Exactly. You can see for yourself that there are plenty of them, and you must stay with me as my guest until you learn how to hunt them. It will give me great pleasure toassist you in any way I can. You will find that I am something of a naturalist as well as a hunter. Of theCarnivora——"
"They are the flesh-eaters," said Oscar when his companion paused and looked at him.
"Well, we don't have many of them here, and you will have to take your chances with them when you find them, for it is little that I can tell you about them."
Oscar was soon on the best of terms with his new friend, who chatted away as familiarly as though he had known the boy all his life.
In about three hours they reached Mr. Lawrence's house; and if we were to say that Oscar was surprised at the sight of it we should but feebly express his feelings.
Here, in the midst of a wilderness more than fifty miles from any neighbor, the English gentleman had created a perfect little paradise.
The road led through an extensive orchard of orange, apple, plum, peach, and walnut trees, and after that came a vineyard that was fairly purple with grapes.
At the lower end of the lawn, which must have contained a hundred acres, was a large pond sheltered by weeping-willows and covered with ducks and geese.
The house was in perfect keeping with its surroundings. It was a large, roomy structure, well built, and furnished in a style which made Oscar wonder.
The first room into which he was conducted was the library—think of a library in the heart of Africa!—and there he remained until Mr. Lawrence brought in his wife and children, who greeted the visitor in the most cordial manner.
This was the first taste of civilized life that Oscar had had along the route outside of the towns he passed, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
It seemed like old times to find himself seated at a farmer's table once more, and to have educated and refined people to talk to. But when he went to bed his trouble began. His couch was too soft and he could not sleep.
After rolling and tossing for half the nighthe spread one of the quilts on the floor, and in five minutes more was in dreamland.
Oscar spent a month under Mr. Lawrence's hospitable roof, and during that time he received all the instructions he needed. What they were it is not necessary to tell here, for we shall learn something about them when we find him alone on the plain, dependent on his own resources and surrounded by wild beasts which disturbed his camp every night, and often did something worse.
He made some improvements in his new friend's stuffed specimens, gave him lessons in taxidermy, and Mr. Lawrence, in return, presented him with two of his fine Scotch deer-hounds.
One of these went back to Eaton with him and took the place of Bugle, who died of old age during his master's absence, and the other—well, Oscar did not keep him a great while, and we shall soon tell how he lost him.
One bright morning Oscar, with many regrets, took leave of his kind host and his family and resumed his journey. The oxen, invigorated by their long rest, walked off inthe most lively manner with the heavy wagon, which had been thoroughly overhauled by Mr. Lawrence's blacksmith.