CHAPTER XIII.A SURLY BOER.
The “settlement” that Mack was so anxious to reach proved to be no settlement at all, as the boys understood the meaning of the word. It was simply a collection of a dozen or more families who were scattered over an immense country, the nearest neighbors living three days’ journey from each other. They arrived at the first farmhouse one bright afternoon, and the sight of the cattle feeding about it delighted Mack, who declared that he would not inspan again until he had traded for a dozen or fifteen of the best of them; but the reception they met from the farmer himself, made the boys a little doubtful on that point. They had seen enough of the Boers by this time to learn something of their customs. One of these customs was, that every traveller must be cordially greetedat the door, presented to each member of the family in turn, and invited to dinner; and this farmer was the first one who neglected this ceremony. When the wagon drew up in front of the house he stood in the door with his long pipe in his hand, but he made no move to welcome them, although Mack greeted him as an old acquaintance.
“Well, Mynheer Schrader,” exclaimed the driver, as he jumped off his wagon, “I am glad to see you again. Where shall I outspan, and where shall the oxen be driven to graze?”
“There is a fountain five miles further on,” replied the Boer in broken English.
“But I intend to stop here,” replied Mack. “You have some fine cattle, and I have the best stock of goods ever brought out by a trader—ribbons, and tea and coffee for the women, cloth to make clothes for the children, and perhaps something for Mynheer himself. Where shall I offload?”
“I want nothing,” growled the Boer.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” insisted Mack.“It’s my business to show goods. That’s what I am hired for.”
Mack looked around to select a place for the camp, and discovering a little grove at a short distance from the house, he drove the wagon there and proceeded to outspan, just as he would have done if the Boer had given him the most cordial welcome. As soon as the oxen were freed from their yokes one of the Kaffirs drove them away to graze, and Mack proceeded to make a display of his goods.
“Are you going to unload?” asked Walter. “That Boer says he doesn’t want anything.”
“Oh, he don’t know whether he does or not,” replied Mack. “That’s what they all say at first, only they generally say it in a more friendly manner. Wait till the women see what I have to show them, and perhaps he will change his mind.”
“He’s a surly old rascal,” said Eugene.
“That’s true,” answered Mack. “I don’t much like the way he welcomed us. We must make a friend of him if we can, for he’s a field cornet.”
“What’s that?”
“A sort of magistrate. He’s a big man here, and the other farmers will be likely to do just as he does. If he treats us well and trades with us, the others will do the same; but if he holds off and acts sulky, we might as well pack up and go on to the Griquas, for we shall get no cattle.”
“What do you suppose makes him act so?” asked Bob. “The others have all seemed glad to see us.”
“Oh, he knows that we want ivory as well as cattle, and he is afraid we’ll sell guns and powder to the natives. He may take it into his stupid head to tell us that we mustn’t go any farther.”
“What will we do in that case?”
“Pay no attention to him. He can’t raise men enough in the settlement to turn us back—our twelve men would make a pretty good show drawn up in line—and before he can send off for help, we’ll be miles in the Griqua country, where he dare not follow us. I don’t much like that move either.”
“What move?” asked Archie.
Mack bobbed his head toward the house by way of reply. The boys looked and saw a young Boer, who they afterward learned was the son of the owner of the farm, sitting on his horse listening to some instructions from his father. The old man was excited, if one might judge by the way he paced back and forth in front of his house and swung his arms about his head. When he had finished his speech the young Boer rode off posthaste.
“I don’t like that move,” repeated Mack. “I don’t know whether the old chap wants help, or whether he is sending word to the other farmers that they mustn’t trade with us. It is one or the other. If he doesn’t change his tactics pretty soon, I’ll put all the things back in the wagon and to-morrow we’ll trek again.”
While Mack was unloading his goods and spreading them out on the ground so that they could be inspected by the Boer and his family, if they should choose to look at them, the boys busied themselvesin unsaddling the horses, pitching the tents, and making other preparations for the night. They stopped to look at the retreating figure of the young Boer occasionally, and told one another that his mission, whatever it was, must be one of importance, for he kept his horse on the run as long as he remained in sight. Presently a party of negroes, some on foot and others on horseback, rode into camp. The boys, who had by this time learned to look upon these visits as petty annoyances that could not be escaped (the natives were great beggars and thieves), did not take a second look at these newcomers, until they heard Mack say that they were Zulus and Griquas. He knew the members of all the tribes and could tell them as far as he could see them, just as Dick and Bob could tell a Sioux Indian or a Comanche.
“Griquas!” repeated George. “There’ll be a row here now, I suppose.”
“Who’ll raise it?” asked Mack.
“Why, that Boer over there,” said Frank. “I should think the natives would have better sensethan to go prowling about through an enemy’s country.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” returned Mack. “They haven’t come to blows yet. They are only threatening each other.”
As the boys expected to see a good deal of the Griquas before their journey was ended, they looked at their visitors with a good deal of interest. Unlike the majority of the natives they had thus far seen, these were dressed as well as a good many of the Boers with whom they had come in contact, only their clothes were made of leather, and instead of hats they wore gaudy handkerchiefs tied around their heads, after the fashion of some of the negroes in our Southern States. They rode sorry-looking beasts, and each of them carried a cheap smooth-bore rifle on his shoulder, and an immense powderhorn under his arm. They were a ruffianly looking set, and the boys thought that the efforts of the missionaries, who had lived among them so many years, had not amounted to much. They had been taught to wear clothing and to use firearms, andthat was as far as the white man’s influence had had any effect on them. Their companions, the Zulus, were a still harder lot. They looked and acted like genuine savages. They were on foot, and their weapons consisted principally of spears and war-clubs.
“They’re the lads that own the ivory,” said Mack. “If you should go to their country you’d see elephants by the drove, and have no trouble at all in filling this wagon with their teeth.”
“Well, why can we not go there?” asked Eugene. “If the Boers will not trade with us—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go to the Zulu country for all the money the wagon could hold,” interrupted Mack, quickly. “There is no water in the desert, and the wild bushmen are thicker than blackberries.”
“And they shoot poisoned arrows,” said Walter.
“That’s what’s the matter,” exclaimed Mack. “I’d sooner face a bullet than one of those arrows.”
“Mack!” shouted Uncle Dick, from his place under the fly of the tent where he was lying at his ease, with his hands under his head, and his big meerschaum in his mouth, “ask this fellow what he wants. I’ve forgotten all my Dutch.”
Uncle Dick was surrounded by his visitors, one of whom was holding his gun in one hand and making motions around the lock with the other, as if he were trying to explain something about it. When Mack inquired into the matter the Griquas at once gathered about him, and for a few minutes an animated discussion was carried on. The conversation was principally by signs, as it seemed to the boys, for they could not understand how any one could make sense out of words which sounded almost exactly like the grunting of pigs.
“His gun is out of order, sir, and he wants somebody to fix it,” said Mack. “The notch is worn smooth, and the hammer won’t stay back.”
“Well, tell him that I don’t keep a travelling gun-shop,” replied the old sailor.
“Let me see it,” said Frank, extending his handfor the gun, which the native promptly surrendered to him.
“Look out there, my boy,” exclaimed Uncle Dick, “or my first customer will be one of my own party.”
“Now I’ll tell you what’s a fact. What do you mean by that?” asked Perk.
“I mean that if you break that gun among you in trying to fix it, you will have to buy a new one of me to replace it.”
“Why the weapon is useless now,” said Frank, bending back the hammer, which instantly fell down upon the tube when he released it. “Even if I should break it, it couldn’t be in any worse condition than it is now.”
“No matter. You’ve got a rogue to deal with, and he wouldn’t ask any better fun than to make you give him a new gun for his wornout piece.”
“But I wouldn’t do it,” said Frank.
“Then in two or three days we should have a band of Griqua warriors down here to ask what’s the reason,” returned Uncle Dick.
“Whew!” whistled Frank. “If that’s the kind of scrape I am likely to get into by being accommodating, I’ll go no further. Here Mr.—Mr.—”
“Jones,” suggested Archie.
“Here, Jones, take your old gun. I can’t do anything with it.”
He handed the weapon to the owner as he spoke, but to his great surprise the native backed away, put his hands behind his back and refused to receive it. He shook his head vehemently and gabbled loudly in Dutch, at the same time appealing to his companions, who nodded their approval.
“What does he say, Mack?” asked Bob.
“He says that the Englishman must fix it, now that he has begun it.”
“I haven’t begun it, and I’m not an Englishman either,” exclaimed Frank.
“No matter. That’s what he and his friends say,” was Mack’s laughing response.
“Offer it to him again, and if he doesn’t take it knock him down with it,” suggested Eugene.
For a second or two it seemed as if Frank thought it would be a good plan to follow this advice. He was quite willing to undertake the task of repairing the weapon as an act of kindness, but his blood rose when he saw that an effort was being made to compel him to do so. The sight of the comical monkey-like face which the native turned upon him, however, was too much for his anger. It disappeared almost immediately, and breaking into a laugh Frank turned to the wagon to hunt up a file and screw-driver, followed by the Griquas, who watched all his movements with the keenest interest. Seating himself on the ground, he removed the lock, took out the tumbler, deepened the smoothly worn notch by a few passes of the file, and then put it back again just as it was before. The work was done in five minutes, and to show the native that it was well done, he took a cap from his own box, put it on the tube and pulled the trigger. The cap snapped, and the native with a grunt of satisfaction seized his gun and walked off, surrounded with his delighted friends.Frank put his hands into his pockets and stood looking after him. “You didn’t expect him to thank you, did you?” asked Uncle Dick.
“N-no, sir; but I didn’t expect him to grab the gun as though he thought I was going to steal it.”
“The next time you do a job of that kind throw in a kick, too,” said Eugene.
“The next time I won’t touch the gun in the first place,” replied Frank. “Hallo!”
He looked up just then and saw the surly farmer standing near the wagon enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Now and then the breeze would carry it away for an instant, and Frank could see that he was scowling fiercely.
“Ah! Mynheer Schrader,” exclaimed Mack, cheerfully, “you have come out at last to look at my fine goods. Why didn’t you bring the frau along?”
“I wants nothing,” growled the Boer.
“Now, Mynheer Schrader,” said Mack, in his most winning tones, “when you see all the fine goods I have brought out here on purpose to—”
The Scotchman was as persistent as a book agent, but he had met his match in the obstinate Boer, who declared that he didn’t want anything, and neither would he look at anything. Mack might as well put his fine goods back into his wagon, and go his way, for not an ox could he buy of him. A long and animated conversation followed. As it was carried on in Dutch, the boys could not, of course, understand a single word of it, but they could easily see that the farmer was angry, and that he was taking Mack to task for something. Whether he had any advantage of their man, the boys could not quite decide. They rather thought not; for when Mack became fairly aroused he talked as fast as the others did, and slapped his hands and shouted so loudly that he might have been heard for half a mile. The Griquas listened intently, and did not hesitate to put in a word, and sometimes a good many of them, whenever an opportunity was offered. The boys thought they were taking sides with their champion. Finally, the debate was ended by the Dutchman, who, withan exclamation of disgust, turned on his heel, and walked away, smoking furiously.
“Well, Mack, what is the upshot of the whole matter?” asked Uncle Dick, as the driver lifted his hat from his head, and wiped away the perspiration into which he had been thrown by his exertions. “Will he trade?”
“No, sir, and neither will any of his people. They want to discourage traders from coming out here, for they sell too much ammunition to the natives.”
“And what did our visitors have to say?” asked Uncle Dick. “I noticed that they chimed in now and then.”
“Yes, sir. They assured me that we would stand a better chance if we should go straight to their own country, and let the Boers alone; and the Zulus say that there is ivory enough in their principal village to fill our wagon. But I wouldn’t go after it if I could get it for nothing. The Boer gave you particular fits,” added Mack, turning to Frank.
“Me! What have I done?”
“You mended that gun for Mr. Jones,” replied Mack; whereupon the boys and Uncle Dick broke out into a hearty peal of laughter. The idea of giving a civilized name and title to a creature like that was supremely ridiculous.
“What business was that of the Boer’s?” asked Frank, as soon as the noise had subsided.
“Why, he contends that Jones couldn’t have fixed it himself, and so you went and did it, and gave the Griquas just one more gun to shoot Boers with. He says we can’t stay in his settlement after that.”
“We don’t want to stay in his settlement,” said Uncle Dick. “We’ll start through it early in the morning; and the goods that we can’t barter to the natives we’ll bring back with us, and try to sell to the Boers nearer the colony.”
This decision was acted upon. Mack had the travellers all astir at an early hour the next morning, and while the boys were busy striking the tents and packing them away in the wagon, thecook made coffee and the other servants went off to drive up the oxen. By the time breakfast was disposed of the inspanning was completed; and when Mack had taken a turn about the camp to make sure that nothing had been left behind, he mounted his box and set the oxen in motion. Uncle Dick rode on ahead in company with Frank, as he generally did; the rest of the boys and the trappers came behind to keep the loose cattle and horses in their places; and the extreme rear was brought up by the Griquas on their sorry-looking beasts. The Zulus had left camp the night before, after begging a little tea from Uncle Dick. The sight of the goods that had been displayed for the Boer’s benefit, made them open their eyes, and they were hastening to their own country to inform their chief that a trader was approaching. This was what Mack told the boys, and he knew it by what he had overheard of the conversation they had with the Griquas just before they left. But they needn’t think that they were going to get him to trek so far out of the world, he said. He wouldn’t crossthat desert and take his chances with the wild Bushmen for all the ivory there was in Africa.
When the wagon passed the farmhouse the Boer was standing in the door, pipe in hand. “Good morning and good-by to you, Mynheer Schrader,” exclaimed Mack, cheerfully. “I may see you again in a few weeks, and then I hope I shall find you in a better humor. Remember that I have the best stock of goods—”
“I wants nothing but that the lions may catch you while you are going through the veldt,” growled the Boer, in reply. “Ah! you’re going to a bad place, and there’ll be no traces left of you in the morning.”
“Never fear. I know more about that veldt and the lions that are in it than you do.”
The boys did not quite understand this, so after a little consultation among themselves, Featherweight rode up to the wagon to ask some information. He remained in conversation with Mack for ten minutes, and when he dropped back beside his companions again, his face was all aglow with excitement.“We may see something now, fellows,” he exclaimed. “That ‘veldt’ the Boer was talking about is a valley in the hills about a day’s journey from here, and the lions are so numerous there that it is known all over the country as ‘the lion veldt.’ Every traveller dreads it. No one pretends to go through there by night, and people have been killed in broad daylight.”
“Human natur’!” ejaculated Dick.
The rest of the party said nothing at once, but looked down at the horns of their saddles and thought about it. They had not yet caught a glimpse of the king of beasts on his native heath. They had heard his voice on several occasions, and that was enough for them, especially for the trappers, who, judging of the animal by the noise he was able to make, formed the opinion that he must be of immense size and something fearful to look at. To hear a tame lion roar in a menagerie, when they were standing in a crowd of spectators and the lion was penned up in an iron cage and deprived of all power for mischief, was one thing;and to hear that same tame lion’s uncle or cousin give tongue in the wilds of Africa on a dark and stormy night (Uncle Dick had often told them that when a lion made up his mind to do any particular damage he always chose a stormy night for it), when there were no iron bars to confine him, and nothing but the thin sides of their tent, and a frail breastwork of thorn-bushes, to keep him from dashing into their very midst, was another and a widely different thing. The boys had heard lions roar under all these circumstances, and George expressed the sentiments of the most of the party when he said:
“I have listened to several concerts since I have been in this country, and I don’t want to hear another.”
“You will probably hear another within a few hours,” returned Fred. “The next water we shall find on the route is in that valley, and there’s where we shall camp to-night.”
“Ain’t thar no trail that leads around it?” asked old Bob, nervously.
“Probably not, or some one would have found it before this time. All traders pass through there. Mack told me that about three years ago he watched the fountain, beside which we are going to camp next, all one night, and saw three different troops of lions come there to drink; but he was so badly frightened by the hubbub they made, that he dared not shoot at them. He told me that his shooting-hole is there yet and that I could use it to-night if I felt so disposed; but I declined.”
“I dare you to stay there with me to-night.”
The astonished boys looked up to see who the bold challenger was. It was Eugene Gaylord, who, finding that his companions were staring hard at him, dropped his reins, placed his hands on his hips and looked at each of them in turn. “Don’t all speak at once, because I don’t want too much company,” said he.