Chapter Seventeen.A Record Ride.“Halt!” cried the leader, after they had ridden about a couple of miles at full speed.The company at once pulled in their well-trained horses and stood stock-still. They had quitted the track, and were now just behind the crest of a kopje, so that their pursuers could not be seen.“There, lads, change your prison togs for these more befitting rigs-out, and eat some of that tucker while we settle off a few of these accursed Kruger whelps. We have a ride before us which will beat Turpin’s ride to York—for distance, at least—before we can next draw rein.”His men had dismounted while he was speaking to our heroes, and ran back to the kopje’s crest. They were now resting on their stomachs and taking aim at the approaching Boers.As he spoke he pointed to a bundle which was fastened to each of their saddles.“Get into these as fast as you can slip, and put inside you what you find in the centre of each swag. We must be off again within the next five minutes.”Saying these words rapidly, he left them and the horses, and ran up to join his companions.Our heroes were out of their saddles, and had the bundles unrolled before he had run half a dozen feet. By the time he had taken his place on the kopje-top, they had got the riding pants and boots on, and were buttoning up. In half a moment more they were bracing on their waist-belts and bandoliers, etc., ready for the journey.Then they opened the saddle-bags and commenced devouring some biltong and biscuit, washing this down with modest sips of cold tea which they found in their water-bottles. Their teeth were sharp and their appetites keen with long fasting, therefore they made the welcome viands disappear as rapidly as they had dressed.Meantime those on the mound-top were busy. The Boers had galloped up with somewhat rash confidence, thinking that they had unarmed men to cope with. Those in hiding reserved their fire until the Boers were within a hundred yards. Then they fired unanimously, and emptied six saddles.There were only seven burghers left, and they drew rein in sudden consternation.Bang! went the second volley, and only one warder was left upright. Without waiting for his quietus, he wheeled about with the utmost promptitude, and raced back to the tronk as fast as his horse could carry him.They let him go, satisfied with the slaughter they had committed, and, rising, they ran back to their horses and mounted in hot haste.“It is saddle and spurs now, boys, until we get over the border. This morning’s work will raise the Transvaal. Forward!”No more was said, but at their utmost speed they set off, and dashed over the country as if doing a race.Mile after mile they sped without slackening rein for an instant. The moon went down by the west, and the stars grew dim. When the day broke they were at least twenty miles from Nylstroom, and in the midst of a wild and lonely scrub.They had reached a fording-place on one of the tributaries of the Limpopo river, and were approaching a native kraal.Here they saw a crowd of natives, and with them four horsemen, with a number of spare horses.“You see we have made preparations for you youngsters; at every twenty miles we have relays waiting right on to Palla station. There we shall find a sufficient force to back us up if there is any fighting to be done.”The natives, who, although under Boer control, hated them furiously, had beer and roasted meat ready for the new-comers. Galloping up, they flung themselves off their exhausted beasts and rapidly transferred their saddles and bridles to the fresh horses. The fagged steeds were turned out to grass.Five minutes only they stayed at this kraal, and while devouring their meat and drink standing, they told the men who had been waiting about their last encounter.“We must get through before the news can spread, and avoid, if possible, any more encounters; so here goes to beat the record.”Together they all dashed on at the same speed as before. That morning our heroes had their first glimpse of some of the wild game of Africa. They saw in the distance a herd of quagga, and shortly afterwards sighted some giraffes fleeting away much more rapidly than they were doing.It was a beautiful and varied country they were passing so rapidly through. But they were too deeply engrossed in the effort to get out of it to pay much attention to what they might otherwise have noted.In another couple of hours they were joined by a fresh company of four, and again mounted.By midday they had dashed across the border-line, having covered over a hundred and thirty miles in less than nine hours.It was the longest and fastest ride at one stretch which Ned and his chums had ever taken, and by this time they were almost bent double with fatigue.But they were safe from Kruger and his myrmidons. Clear out of the country, to which they vowed only to return with those who would terminate this vile oppression miscalled a republic.It was their last stage. A few more miles, and they would be at the Palla Road railway stations, where they could wait for the up-train to Bulawayo.They slackened pace now that they were so near the end of their desperate race. As they cantered along, they took out the remainder of their provender and emptied their water-bags; then, considerably refreshed, they began to converse.There had been no leisure to see much of each other during this record ride.Of the country our heroes could recall a flashing panorama of mountains, kopjes, and veldt. They had passed through the half-cleared portions of dark kloof, where tall trees were shooting above dense undergrowth. They had skirted mealie-fields and Kaffir kraals. They had crossed half-dried streams, with tangles of reeds lining the banks. They had startled quaggas, gnus, giraffes, and other tempting-looking game, and forced them to use their limbs over the wolds as the horses rushed along.They had seen snakes spring aside from their horses’ hoofs, and natives who cheered them on their course with friendly cries; all through that line the Kaffirs knew who they were, and why they were speeding so swiftly from the country of the Boers. These natives, who waved their arms like signal-posts, were scouts who would have warned them had there been danger in front. They had seen with instantaneous glances all that they wanted to see, and were fortunately saved from the sight of their deadly enemies.But, until now, our heroes had hardly looked at the men who were risking their lives to help them over the border. Now, however, that they were outside Kruger’s jurisdiction, they ventured to examine their brave rescuers.Twenty-six men, fully armed, rode beside them. They were all tall and stalwart fellows, with the exception of the leader, who appeared short beside these six-footers. They were also all bearded like middle-aged Boers, and costumed like burghers when on field-duty.Dust-covered as they were, and swarthy with sunburn, it was difficult to gauge their years. Judging from their faces and beards, they might have been any age from forty to fifty-five.From their movements, however, and figures, they ought to have been much younger men.“Well, boys,” said the leader, “you have had a bad time of it lately; but I think your Transvaal troubles are about over—for the present, at least.”He had kindly brown eyes, and an open fearless look about him that greatly took with our heroes. Also, in spite of his late exertions, he did not appear to be the least bit fatigued.“Thanks to you, sir, and these gentlemen, we have achieved what would have been impossible otherwise,” answered Ned.“Yes; I own that Kruger’s country is not easy to get out of, when the owners want to keep you. One thing this ride has done, I fear—closed a good road in or out for any future trekker. By Jove! there will be a nice kick-up over this affair, and no mistake. You’ll have to make yourselves scarce for a while.”“But surely we are quite safe in Rhodesia?” asked Ned.“Well, that remains to be seen. Kruger will make a mountain out of this ant-hill. Cables will be sent to the Home Government, demanding their prisoners to be arrested and returned to them, and large indemnities for the potted burghers.”“And what will the British Government do?”“Sacrifice you, without a pause, to pacify the old man of Pretoria, and us also, if we can be traced.”“Then we have got you into a bad fix, I fear,” said Ned, regretfully.“Oh, don’t concern yourselves about us; we are ready with our alibis,” answered the leader, with a merry laugh. “These gentlemen have been on the sick list in Bulawayo hospital for the past three weeks, while I have been looking after the health of my friend and chief, Cecil Rhodes.”“I say, Jim,” said one of the others, “do you consider it safe for us to take the up-train to Bulawayo?”“Perfectly safe. There will be a special waiting for us at Palla, and we will hang on till after sundown before we board her. A wire up to headquarters will prepare them for our arrival, then you boys can sneak back to your nurses, while we make our way to Salisbury. We shall have to disguise you for that journey, but my friends will be done with their beards by that time, so one of these each will do for you.”At last our heroes understood what had been puzzling them as peculiar about their rescuers. They had disguised themselves for this expedition.Who could the leader be, who was at that time supposed to be looking after the health of the great empire-maker? They looked at him again more closely, and then light broke upon them.Dr Jameson, of course! The hero next to Rhodes most worth following and worshipping in Africa.He saw from their expressions that they had recognised him.“Yes, boys; I am Dr Jim. But no one outside this company must know it. Your friend Philip Martin wrote to me the fix you were in, so we thought we might as well have a little outing and help you away. Now we must finish our task and make you disappear altogether from the ken of man. That, however, we can discuss with our chief when we see him.”Words failed our heroes; they could only gaze at this dauntless paladin with speechless admiration.After a time Clarence ventured to ask about his father.“Oh, he is all right! He was advised to clear out as soon as you were sentenced, as he could be of more use to you outside the Transvaal than in it. He has sold his property and transferred his shares in the mine, and moved his banking account to Cape Town. He is there also, and stands the expenses of this so far successful private raid. By the way, he writes to tell us you wish to do a little exploring.”“Yes,” replied Ned; “that was our intention when we left England, but I don’t know how we can do it now.”“It will be the very best thing you can possibly do, while the hue-and-cry is out for you. I think we shall be able to fix that for you at Salisbury. Meantime, as we are within three miles from Palla station, and it will not be dark for a couple more hours yet, we had better take a stretch here and breathe our horses.”They dismounted, and while their horses were left to feed as best they could on the veldt, they flung themselves down to have a much-needed rest. Pipes were filled and lighted, then most of them lay on their backs and smoked enjoyably while they looked at the deep blue space overhead.No one spoke, they were too tired for that; possibly each one had plenty to think about as they lay there.They had accomplished their purpose and wiped out a few of the general enemy. They had also taken time by the forelock, and had not much fear of being stopped on the railway, no matter what telegraphic messages were sent on before them. Kruger had his spies in Rhodesia as he had elsewhere, but these agents were known, and could be kept back by those who were working this affair.Dr Jim had the most to think about, for after Bulawayo was reached he had a long distance to ride before he could drop his disguise and feel safe. Our heroes also would run most risks.But they had a fearless and keen-brained man to guide them and think for them; they felt they had not much to fear.The sky was rapidly changing from deep orange to ruddy violet when Dr Jim roused himself, and said—“I say, Lawson, you had better ride in advance, and get things ready for us. We’ll be after you in half an hour.”One of the Boer-like men rose lazily and walked over to his horse; then mounting, he cantered easily off into the dusk.Half an hour later, the ebon sky was clustered with stars; then the company got up and resumed their journey.When they reached Palla they found the station clear of all except the railway officials, and the engine ready for starting.Their horses were put into a couple of boxes behind them. Together they entered the comfortable saloon, where a good supper was waiting for them. While they were enjoying this, the train was running along smoothly at about forty miles per hour, and all their troubles over for the present. They made no stops, but glided on smoothly through the night.When they woke the train was slackening speed, and the bright morning sun once more lit up the level veldt and glistened on the zinc roofs of Bulawayo.They had arrived at the present termination of the Chartered Company’s latest and most gigantic enterprise.
“Halt!” cried the leader, after they had ridden about a couple of miles at full speed.
The company at once pulled in their well-trained horses and stood stock-still. They had quitted the track, and were now just behind the crest of a kopje, so that their pursuers could not be seen.
“There, lads, change your prison togs for these more befitting rigs-out, and eat some of that tucker while we settle off a few of these accursed Kruger whelps. We have a ride before us which will beat Turpin’s ride to York—for distance, at least—before we can next draw rein.”
His men had dismounted while he was speaking to our heroes, and ran back to the kopje’s crest. They were now resting on their stomachs and taking aim at the approaching Boers.
As he spoke he pointed to a bundle which was fastened to each of their saddles.
“Get into these as fast as you can slip, and put inside you what you find in the centre of each swag. We must be off again within the next five minutes.”
Saying these words rapidly, he left them and the horses, and ran up to join his companions.
Our heroes were out of their saddles, and had the bundles unrolled before he had run half a dozen feet. By the time he had taken his place on the kopje-top, they had got the riding pants and boots on, and were buttoning up. In half a moment more they were bracing on their waist-belts and bandoliers, etc., ready for the journey.
Then they opened the saddle-bags and commenced devouring some biltong and biscuit, washing this down with modest sips of cold tea which they found in their water-bottles. Their teeth were sharp and their appetites keen with long fasting, therefore they made the welcome viands disappear as rapidly as they had dressed.
Meantime those on the mound-top were busy. The Boers had galloped up with somewhat rash confidence, thinking that they had unarmed men to cope with. Those in hiding reserved their fire until the Boers were within a hundred yards. Then they fired unanimously, and emptied six saddles.
There were only seven burghers left, and they drew rein in sudden consternation.
Bang! went the second volley, and only one warder was left upright. Without waiting for his quietus, he wheeled about with the utmost promptitude, and raced back to the tronk as fast as his horse could carry him.
They let him go, satisfied with the slaughter they had committed, and, rising, they ran back to their horses and mounted in hot haste.
“It is saddle and spurs now, boys, until we get over the border. This morning’s work will raise the Transvaal. Forward!”
No more was said, but at their utmost speed they set off, and dashed over the country as if doing a race.
Mile after mile they sped without slackening rein for an instant. The moon went down by the west, and the stars grew dim. When the day broke they were at least twenty miles from Nylstroom, and in the midst of a wild and lonely scrub.
They had reached a fording-place on one of the tributaries of the Limpopo river, and were approaching a native kraal.
Here they saw a crowd of natives, and with them four horsemen, with a number of spare horses.
“You see we have made preparations for you youngsters; at every twenty miles we have relays waiting right on to Palla station. There we shall find a sufficient force to back us up if there is any fighting to be done.”
The natives, who, although under Boer control, hated them furiously, had beer and roasted meat ready for the new-comers. Galloping up, they flung themselves off their exhausted beasts and rapidly transferred their saddles and bridles to the fresh horses. The fagged steeds were turned out to grass.
Five minutes only they stayed at this kraal, and while devouring their meat and drink standing, they told the men who had been waiting about their last encounter.
“We must get through before the news can spread, and avoid, if possible, any more encounters; so here goes to beat the record.”
Together they all dashed on at the same speed as before. That morning our heroes had their first glimpse of some of the wild game of Africa. They saw in the distance a herd of quagga, and shortly afterwards sighted some giraffes fleeting away much more rapidly than they were doing.
It was a beautiful and varied country they were passing so rapidly through. But they were too deeply engrossed in the effort to get out of it to pay much attention to what they might otherwise have noted.
In another couple of hours they were joined by a fresh company of four, and again mounted.
By midday they had dashed across the border-line, having covered over a hundred and thirty miles in less than nine hours.
It was the longest and fastest ride at one stretch which Ned and his chums had ever taken, and by this time they were almost bent double with fatigue.
But they were safe from Kruger and his myrmidons. Clear out of the country, to which they vowed only to return with those who would terminate this vile oppression miscalled a republic.
It was their last stage. A few more miles, and they would be at the Palla Road railway stations, where they could wait for the up-train to Bulawayo.
They slackened pace now that they were so near the end of their desperate race. As they cantered along, they took out the remainder of their provender and emptied their water-bags; then, considerably refreshed, they began to converse.
There had been no leisure to see much of each other during this record ride.
Of the country our heroes could recall a flashing panorama of mountains, kopjes, and veldt. They had passed through the half-cleared portions of dark kloof, where tall trees were shooting above dense undergrowth. They had skirted mealie-fields and Kaffir kraals. They had crossed half-dried streams, with tangles of reeds lining the banks. They had startled quaggas, gnus, giraffes, and other tempting-looking game, and forced them to use their limbs over the wolds as the horses rushed along.
They had seen snakes spring aside from their horses’ hoofs, and natives who cheered them on their course with friendly cries; all through that line the Kaffirs knew who they were, and why they were speeding so swiftly from the country of the Boers. These natives, who waved their arms like signal-posts, were scouts who would have warned them had there been danger in front. They had seen with instantaneous glances all that they wanted to see, and were fortunately saved from the sight of their deadly enemies.
But, until now, our heroes had hardly looked at the men who were risking their lives to help them over the border. Now, however, that they were outside Kruger’s jurisdiction, they ventured to examine their brave rescuers.
Twenty-six men, fully armed, rode beside them. They were all tall and stalwart fellows, with the exception of the leader, who appeared short beside these six-footers. They were also all bearded like middle-aged Boers, and costumed like burghers when on field-duty.
Dust-covered as they were, and swarthy with sunburn, it was difficult to gauge their years. Judging from their faces and beards, they might have been any age from forty to fifty-five.
From their movements, however, and figures, they ought to have been much younger men.
“Well, boys,” said the leader, “you have had a bad time of it lately; but I think your Transvaal troubles are about over—for the present, at least.”
He had kindly brown eyes, and an open fearless look about him that greatly took with our heroes. Also, in spite of his late exertions, he did not appear to be the least bit fatigued.
“Thanks to you, sir, and these gentlemen, we have achieved what would have been impossible otherwise,” answered Ned.
“Yes; I own that Kruger’s country is not easy to get out of, when the owners want to keep you. One thing this ride has done, I fear—closed a good road in or out for any future trekker. By Jove! there will be a nice kick-up over this affair, and no mistake. You’ll have to make yourselves scarce for a while.”
“But surely we are quite safe in Rhodesia?” asked Ned.
“Well, that remains to be seen. Kruger will make a mountain out of this ant-hill. Cables will be sent to the Home Government, demanding their prisoners to be arrested and returned to them, and large indemnities for the potted burghers.”
“And what will the British Government do?”
“Sacrifice you, without a pause, to pacify the old man of Pretoria, and us also, if we can be traced.”
“Then we have got you into a bad fix, I fear,” said Ned, regretfully.
“Oh, don’t concern yourselves about us; we are ready with our alibis,” answered the leader, with a merry laugh. “These gentlemen have been on the sick list in Bulawayo hospital for the past three weeks, while I have been looking after the health of my friend and chief, Cecil Rhodes.”
“I say, Jim,” said one of the others, “do you consider it safe for us to take the up-train to Bulawayo?”
“Perfectly safe. There will be a special waiting for us at Palla, and we will hang on till after sundown before we board her. A wire up to headquarters will prepare them for our arrival, then you boys can sneak back to your nurses, while we make our way to Salisbury. We shall have to disguise you for that journey, but my friends will be done with their beards by that time, so one of these each will do for you.”
At last our heroes understood what had been puzzling them as peculiar about their rescuers. They had disguised themselves for this expedition.
Who could the leader be, who was at that time supposed to be looking after the health of the great empire-maker? They looked at him again more closely, and then light broke upon them.
Dr Jameson, of course! The hero next to Rhodes most worth following and worshipping in Africa.
He saw from their expressions that they had recognised him.
“Yes, boys; I am Dr Jim. But no one outside this company must know it. Your friend Philip Martin wrote to me the fix you were in, so we thought we might as well have a little outing and help you away. Now we must finish our task and make you disappear altogether from the ken of man. That, however, we can discuss with our chief when we see him.”
Words failed our heroes; they could only gaze at this dauntless paladin with speechless admiration.
After a time Clarence ventured to ask about his father.
“Oh, he is all right! He was advised to clear out as soon as you were sentenced, as he could be of more use to you outside the Transvaal than in it. He has sold his property and transferred his shares in the mine, and moved his banking account to Cape Town. He is there also, and stands the expenses of this so far successful private raid. By the way, he writes to tell us you wish to do a little exploring.”
“Yes,” replied Ned; “that was our intention when we left England, but I don’t know how we can do it now.”
“It will be the very best thing you can possibly do, while the hue-and-cry is out for you. I think we shall be able to fix that for you at Salisbury. Meantime, as we are within three miles from Palla station, and it will not be dark for a couple more hours yet, we had better take a stretch here and breathe our horses.”
They dismounted, and while their horses were left to feed as best they could on the veldt, they flung themselves down to have a much-needed rest. Pipes were filled and lighted, then most of them lay on their backs and smoked enjoyably while they looked at the deep blue space overhead.
No one spoke, they were too tired for that; possibly each one had plenty to think about as they lay there.
They had accomplished their purpose and wiped out a few of the general enemy. They had also taken time by the forelock, and had not much fear of being stopped on the railway, no matter what telegraphic messages were sent on before them. Kruger had his spies in Rhodesia as he had elsewhere, but these agents were known, and could be kept back by those who were working this affair.
Dr Jim had the most to think about, for after Bulawayo was reached he had a long distance to ride before he could drop his disguise and feel safe. Our heroes also would run most risks.
But they had a fearless and keen-brained man to guide them and think for them; they felt they had not much to fear.
The sky was rapidly changing from deep orange to ruddy violet when Dr Jim roused himself, and said—
“I say, Lawson, you had better ride in advance, and get things ready for us. We’ll be after you in half an hour.”
One of the Boer-like men rose lazily and walked over to his horse; then mounting, he cantered easily off into the dusk.
Half an hour later, the ebon sky was clustered with stars; then the company got up and resumed their journey.
When they reached Palla they found the station clear of all except the railway officials, and the engine ready for starting.
Their horses were put into a couple of boxes behind them. Together they entered the comfortable saloon, where a good supper was waiting for them. While they were enjoying this, the train was running along smoothly at about forty miles per hour, and all their troubles over for the present. They made no stops, but glided on smoothly through the night.
When they woke the train was slackening speed, and the bright morning sun once more lit up the level veldt and glistened on the zinc roofs of Bulawayo.
They had arrived at the present termination of the Chartered Company’s latest and most gigantic enterprise.
Chapter Eighteen.The Ride to Salisbury.There was no chance of letters getting in before them, while as for telegraphic messages, it was too early yet for such to be delivered.As they rolled into the station they saw no one about, except the station-master and one sleepy porter.The town had not yet woken up, as they could see from the lack of wood smoke issuing from any of the chimneys.Three of the men denuded themselves of their beards, which our heroes put on, transforming themselves into middle-aged men in a twinkling. They left three young fellows, with their handkerchiefs wrapped round the lower portions of their faces, so that no one could recognise them. These precautions were needful, even in loyal Bulawayo, for there were Boer agents here as well as elsewhere.The horses were detrained, and led off by their owners to the stables of the Palace Hotel, where faithful grooms were waiting to receive them. After delivering over their steeds, each man went by different directions back to the hospital. As far as they were concerned the ruse had been entirely successful. As for the special train, it took on a fresh supply of fuel and water, and dashed off down the line again.When the townsmen of Bulawayo would get up and resume business for the day, there was no one to tell them that a special train had arrived and departed.“So far, so good,” said Dr Jim, as he sent off his wire to Salisbury. “Now, boys, let us get on. We shall find relays all the road up, and, although we need not make tracks quite so quickly, for the first fifty miles we mustn’t let the grass grow under us.”They had filled their water-flasks, and laid in provisions while on the train, so that now they did not wait to look at this rising city. They put spurs to their steeds and dashed away impetuously towards Gwalo.At Imbembesi they had breakfast, having ridden through a lonely, undulating, and woody country. The landlord of the small inn there was prepared for them, and did not keep them waiting. After enjoying a good wash and substantial feed, they mounted fresh horses and went on at an easy gallop.At Shangain they changed again, and kept on until Gwalo was reached. Here they rested for a couple of hours, while the doctor received and answered some telegrams which were waiting.“As I expected,” he said. “The hue and cry is out, but there is no one to stop us about these parts. We must keep on all night, though, as time with me is everything.” As they rode out of Gwalo he said, “This is a most interesting locality from an antiquarian point of view: all round are ancient mine-workings. Some day, when you can spare the time, you must come back and examine these remains of past races.”They changed horses twice during the night, resting and eating at each place, so that when morning dawned they had reached Fort Charter, two hundred and fifteen miles from Bulawayo, and had only sixty-five miles more to traverse. At Fort Charter they had a bath, breakfast, and three hours’ rest.They rode easy for the rest of that day, and arrived at the Hamyani River Hotel about sundown. They were only twelve miles now from their destination. They were not at all fatigued, although they had been for thirty-six hours almost constantly on their saddles. Their horses were also quite fresh.Yet their leader, for reasons of his own, did not wish to reach Salisbury until after midnight. They had, therefore, supper here, and afterwards lay down and had a few hours’ sleep. At half-past eleven they once more took the road, greatly the better for that short repose and brush-up afterwards.Their ride had been absolutely without human incident for the past two days, except for those people at the hotels. They had encountered neither horseman nor waggon. At the inns their coming had been provided for, so that they escaped any outside curious eyes.Dr Jim was in a most contented mood now that he had escaped observation. It did not matter greatly after this if they chanced to pass or meet any one, since they were so near to the end. He had rescued three young Englishmen from the remorseless clutches of his enemy, and punished some of that enemy’s satellites.“You are in great favour with the chief,” he said. “I don’t know if he would have permitted me to leave his side at this time for any one else. But when he heard your sentences he swore a mighty oath that you should not taste the cat, even if he had to go himself and pull you out.”“We also made a vow that we should not be flogged,” said Ned, quietly.“You are plucky young fellows, and have stood this journey gamely. If you look after number one, and do your duty, there is a future before you. Cecil Rhodes, once he takes a fancy, sticks to it through thick and thin.”“We shall try to deserve his good opinion, and yours also, doctor.”“Be true to your country, faithful to your friends, and never shirk your duty, and you are safe to keep the good opinions you have already gained. Here we are at our destination.”As he spoke he turned into a gate that was held open by a young Kaffir boy, and walked his horse up an avenue of blue gums, that looked inky, with their pendulous leaves, in the light of the late moon. The bush spiders were yet busy spinning their silky traps for the unwary, early morning fly, and the dew lay heavily upon those gleaming meshes. They were entering by the back road to the spacious Salisbury abode of the ex-premier of South Africa.On each side of them as they rode slowly along were the numerous outhouses and stables, all substantially built of limestone, and slated. The gum trees, which had been planted within the past three years, were already thirty and forty feet in height, and gave out a pleasant aroma.In front of them they could see a wide-spreading building, surrounded by three tiers of verandahs, and terminated with picturesque pinnacles. It was like a large hydropathic rather than a private residence.A solemn stillness lay over this building, plunged as it was in darkness, and rising out of the shrubbery and fruit trees which had been planted and forced up regardless of expense. Solemnly and darkly this combined mass of building and foliage, with the delicate filigree tracings of palm trees and other exotics, rose against the declining moon. There was not a light to be seen in any of the windows.But in a corner of the garden was a small single-storeyed building, like a summer-house, and here in the two windows facing them gleamed a ruddy glow of lamplight.“The master is still up, Pete?” observed Dr Jim, as they dismounted and gave their horses to the Kaffir boy.“Yes, Baas. He is waiting for you.”“Then, we must not keep him waiting. Come, lads, and report yourselves.”He opened a little side gate, and strode through the shrubbery towards the lighted windows, with our heroes at his heels.For the second time they were about to behold this colossus of Africa—the man who never turned upon a friend, or took refuge behind an excuse; the man who considered his vast possessions as only trust-money for the good of his country; the most powerful and striking personality of the nineteenth century. Our heroes did not tremble as they had done when entering the abode of the ignoble enemy at Pretoria. There were no policemen here to guard this potent life. He was hedged round by admiration and affection. Nor had he any dread of the assassin’s bullet, for he was a man absolutely fearless. Yet they approached with timid expectation for all that.Dr Jim tapped at the door, and a strong clear voice bade them enter. Next moment they were inside a small room plainly furnished with a table, a few chairs, and a small camp bed. They were in the favourite sanctum and bedroom of the modern Napoleon. He had been busy writing before they came, for the table was littered with papers. But at their entrance, he sprang up quickly, and, taking two strides, held out his shapely hand and clasped that of Dr Jim with a firm fervent grasp.“Welcome back, old fellow, and you also, young gentlemen; let me congratulate you on your escape.”He pushed the spirit-decanter and a box of cigars over to Dr Jim, who helped himself. Then he looked at our heroes with a genial smile.“You have been already adding a line to our history, and making yourselves famous in Africa,” he said. “I have here my orders to look out for you, and hand you back to prison. Ah, there is a fine to do over this affair. Thirteen valuable burghers gone under, I believe.”“Twelve I am answerable for,” answered Dr Jim, calmly.“The thirteenth was killed by one of the Kaffirs who escaped with us,” said Ned.He had been wondering how they had got on, and now enquired if any of them had been captured.“Not yet. Nor do I expect they will be. I suppose you made arrangements about their safety, Jim?”“Yes,” replied the doctor. “They will be passed on to their own people by the friendly Kaffirs, while if any care to come up here, the railway authorities have orders to forward them without delay.”Our heroes rejoiced to hear this news, for their Kaffir friends had lain heavy on their minds since they had parted from them.“Then, by this time they are into British territory, for these fellows know their way about much better than either the Boers or we do. We shall have them up here in a few days. Now, I suppose, you are ready for your breakfast, and bed afterwards?”Our heroes were ready for their beds at least, although they declined the offer of any more refreshments.“Right you are.”Cecil Rhodes pressed an electric knob at his side, and in another moment the Kaffir boy Pete appeared.“Show these young gentlemen to their bedrooms, Pete, and afterwards go to your own lair. I shall not require you any more this morning.”He nodded to our heroes as he resumed his seat at the table.“We shall have a chat after you have rested. Don’t hurry up before noon. Breakfast will be sent up to your bedrooms. Now, Jim, old fellow, you can do without sleep, I know, and there are three hours’ hard work before us here to get over ere I can let you go.”Dr Jim drew a chair up to the table, and prepared to listen to instructions.“I guess it is no sinecure that post of Dr Jim’s,” said Ned to his chums as they left the little house and walked after Pete towards the big one.“When does your master sleep, Pete?”“Never, I think,” answered the boy. “He is always working and wide awake. When sun rises he will be off to the veldt for a long ride with Baas Jim, then all the day they will be working again. Sometimes he lie down on that little bed for half an hour after lunch, or he have a nap in his chair after dinner, but that is all he takes of sleep.”When they got inside, the boy set on the electric light in the hall and staircase to show them up to their rooms. There he left them, as they desired him, to manage for themselves.Three nights before they had been slaves, with only a caked earth floor to lie upon. They were now the occupants of a sumptuous bedroom each, with every comfort and appliance that unlimited wealth could procure.Full of heartfelt gratitude, they knelt and poured out their thanks to the God who had protected them and liberated them from the house of bondage. Neither did they forget to blend the names of those who had been the instruments in His hands of their deliverance. Lastly, they prayed that He might watch over and guard the dark-skinned brothers who had escaped with them.After this grateful offering they crept into the comfortable beds, and very soon forgot all the troubles of the past.
There was no chance of letters getting in before them, while as for telegraphic messages, it was too early yet for such to be delivered.
As they rolled into the station they saw no one about, except the station-master and one sleepy porter.
The town had not yet woken up, as they could see from the lack of wood smoke issuing from any of the chimneys.
Three of the men denuded themselves of their beards, which our heroes put on, transforming themselves into middle-aged men in a twinkling. They left three young fellows, with their handkerchiefs wrapped round the lower portions of their faces, so that no one could recognise them. These precautions were needful, even in loyal Bulawayo, for there were Boer agents here as well as elsewhere.
The horses were detrained, and led off by their owners to the stables of the Palace Hotel, where faithful grooms were waiting to receive them. After delivering over their steeds, each man went by different directions back to the hospital. As far as they were concerned the ruse had been entirely successful. As for the special train, it took on a fresh supply of fuel and water, and dashed off down the line again.
When the townsmen of Bulawayo would get up and resume business for the day, there was no one to tell them that a special train had arrived and departed.
“So far, so good,” said Dr Jim, as he sent off his wire to Salisbury. “Now, boys, let us get on. We shall find relays all the road up, and, although we need not make tracks quite so quickly, for the first fifty miles we mustn’t let the grass grow under us.”
They had filled their water-flasks, and laid in provisions while on the train, so that now they did not wait to look at this rising city. They put spurs to their steeds and dashed away impetuously towards Gwalo.
At Imbembesi they had breakfast, having ridden through a lonely, undulating, and woody country. The landlord of the small inn there was prepared for them, and did not keep them waiting. After enjoying a good wash and substantial feed, they mounted fresh horses and went on at an easy gallop.
At Shangain they changed again, and kept on until Gwalo was reached. Here they rested for a couple of hours, while the doctor received and answered some telegrams which were waiting.
“As I expected,” he said. “The hue and cry is out, but there is no one to stop us about these parts. We must keep on all night, though, as time with me is everything.” As they rode out of Gwalo he said, “This is a most interesting locality from an antiquarian point of view: all round are ancient mine-workings. Some day, when you can spare the time, you must come back and examine these remains of past races.”
They changed horses twice during the night, resting and eating at each place, so that when morning dawned they had reached Fort Charter, two hundred and fifteen miles from Bulawayo, and had only sixty-five miles more to traverse. At Fort Charter they had a bath, breakfast, and three hours’ rest.
They rode easy for the rest of that day, and arrived at the Hamyani River Hotel about sundown. They were only twelve miles now from their destination. They were not at all fatigued, although they had been for thirty-six hours almost constantly on their saddles. Their horses were also quite fresh.
Yet their leader, for reasons of his own, did not wish to reach Salisbury until after midnight. They had, therefore, supper here, and afterwards lay down and had a few hours’ sleep. At half-past eleven they once more took the road, greatly the better for that short repose and brush-up afterwards.
Their ride had been absolutely without human incident for the past two days, except for those people at the hotels. They had encountered neither horseman nor waggon. At the inns their coming had been provided for, so that they escaped any outside curious eyes.
Dr Jim was in a most contented mood now that he had escaped observation. It did not matter greatly after this if they chanced to pass or meet any one, since they were so near to the end. He had rescued three young Englishmen from the remorseless clutches of his enemy, and punished some of that enemy’s satellites.
“You are in great favour with the chief,” he said. “I don’t know if he would have permitted me to leave his side at this time for any one else. But when he heard your sentences he swore a mighty oath that you should not taste the cat, even if he had to go himself and pull you out.”
“We also made a vow that we should not be flogged,” said Ned, quietly.
“You are plucky young fellows, and have stood this journey gamely. If you look after number one, and do your duty, there is a future before you. Cecil Rhodes, once he takes a fancy, sticks to it through thick and thin.”
“We shall try to deserve his good opinion, and yours also, doctor.”
“Be true to your country, faithful to your friends, and never shirk your duty, and you are safe to keep the good opinions you have already gained. Here we are at our destination.”
As he spoke he turned into a gate that was held open by a young Kaffir boy, and walked his horse up an avenue of blue gums, that looked inky, with their pendulous leaves, in the light of the late moon. The bush spiders were yet busy spinning their silky traps for the unwary, early morning fly, and the dew lay heavily upon those gleaming meshes. They were entering by the back road to the spacious Salisbury abode of the ex-premier of South Africa.
On each side of them as they rode slowly along were the numerous outhouses and stables, all substantially built of limestone, and slated. The gum trees, which had been planted within the past three years, were already thirty and forty feet in height, and gave out a pleasant aroma.
In front of them they could see a wide-spreading building, surrounded by three tiers of verandahs, and terminated with picturesque pinnacles. It was like a large hydropathic rather than a private residence.
A solemn stillness lay over this building, plunged as it was in darkness, and rising out of the shrubbery and fruit trees which had been planted and forced up regardless of expense. Solemnly and darkly this combined mass of building and foliage, with the delicate filigree tracings of palm trees and other exotics, rose against the declining moon. There was not a light to be seen in any of the windows.
But in a corner of the garden was a small single-storeyed building, like a summer-house, and here in the two windows facing them gleamed a ruddy glow of lamplight.
“The master is still up, Pete?” observed Dr Jim, as they dismounted and gave their horses to the Kaffir boy.
“Yes, Baas. He is waiting for you.”
“Then, we must not keep him waiting. Come, lads, and report yourselves.”
He opened a little side gate, and strode through the shrubbery towards the lighted windows, with our heroes at his heels.
For the second time they were about to behold this colossus of Africa—the man who never turned upon a friend, or took refuge behind an excuse; the man who considered his vast possessions as only trust-money for the good of his country; the most powerful and striking personality of the nineteenth century. Our heroes did not tremble as they had done when entering the abode of the ignoble enemy at Pretoria. There were no policemen here to guard this potent life. He was hedged round by admiration and affection. Nor had he any dread of the assassin’s bullet, for he was a man absolutely fearless. Yet they approached with timid expectation for all that.
Dr Jim tapped at the door, and a strong clear voice bade them enter. Next moment they were inside a small room plainly furnished with a table, a few chairs, and a small camp bed. They were in the favourite sanctum and bedroom of the modern Napoleon. He had been busy writing before they came, for the table was littered with papers. But at their entrance, he sprang up quickly, and, taking two strides, held out his shapely hand and clasped that of Dr Jim with a firm fervent grasp.
“Welcome back, old fellow, and you also, young gentlemen; let me congratulate you on your escape.”
He pushed the spirit-decanter and a box of cigars over to Dr Jim, who helped himself. Then he looked at our heroes with a genial smile.
“You have been already adding a line to our history, and making yourselves famous in Africa,” he said. “I have here my orders to look out for you, and hand you back to prison. Ah, there is a fine to do over this affair. Thirteen valuable burghers gone under, I believe.”
“Twelve I am answerable for,” answered Dr Jim, calmly.
“The thirteenth was killed by one of the Kaffirs who escaped with us,” said Ned.
He had been wondering how they had got on, and now enquired if any of them had been captured.
“Not yet. Nor do I expect they will be. I suppose you made arrangements about their safety, Jim?”
“Yes,” replied the doctor. “They will be passed on to their own people by the friendly Kaffirs, while if any care to come up here, the railway authorities have orders to forward them without delay.”
Our heroes rejoiced to hear this news, for their Kaffir friends had lain heavy on their minds since they had parted from them.
“Then, by this time they are into British territory, for these fellows know their way about much better than either the Boers or we do. We shall have them up here in a few days. Now, I suppose, you are ready for your breakfast, and bed afterwards?”
Our heroes were ready for their beds at least, although they declined the offer of any more refreshments.
“Right you are.”
Cecil Rhodes pressed an electric knob at his side, and in another moment the Kaffir boy Pete appeared.
“Show these young gentlemen to their bedrooms, Pete, and afterwards go to your own lair. I shall not require you any more this morning.”
He nodded to our heroes as he resumed his seat at the table.
“We shall have a chat after you have rested. Don’t hurry up before noon. Breakfast will be sent up to your bedrooms. Now, Jim, old fellow, you can do without sleep, I know, and there are three hours’ hard work before us here to get over ere I can let you go.”
Dr Jim drew a chair up to the table, and prepared to listen to instructions.
“I guess it is no sinecure that post of Dr Jim’s,” said Ned to his chums as they left the little house and walked after Pete towards the big one.
“When does your master sleep, Pete?”
“Never, I think,” answered the boy. “He is always working and wide awake. When sun rises he will be off to the veldt for a long ride with Baas Jim, then all the day they will be working again. Sometimes he lie down on that little bed for half an hour after lunch, or he have a nap in his chair after dinner, but that is all he takes of sleep.”
When they got inside, the boy set on the electric light in the hall and staircase to show them up to their rooms. There he left them, as they desired him, to manage for themselves.
Three nights before they had been slaves, with only a caked earth floor to lie upon. They were now the occupants of a sumptuous bedroom each, with every comfort and appliance that unlimited wealth could procure.
Full of heartfelt gratitude, they knelt and poured out their thanks to the God who had protected them and liberated them from the house of bondage. Neither did they forget to blend the names of those who had been the instruments in His hands of their deliverance. Lastly, they prayed that He might watch over and guard the dark-skinned brothers who had escaped with them.
After this grateful offering they crept into the comfortable beds, and very soon forgot all the troubles of the past.
Chapter Nineteen.They start on their Adventures.“Well, boys, at last we are having our desires and realising our wildest dreams.”Ned was the speaker, and Fred and Clarence the recipients of his sentiments. Six weeks had gone by since the night they first slept at Salisbury, and now they were encamped in the heart of unknown Africa.Cecil Rhodes, their benefactor, had taken up their idea of exploring, and as he never did things by half or in a dilatory fashion, he had fitted them with every requisite on a princely scale. As it was dangerous, even with all his great influence, to keep them within the limits of civilisation, he packed them off promptly and secretly to the kraal of a native ally, and there they remained perdu until their carriers and luggage were sent to them.They were young and lacking in experience, but, as Rhodes said, so was Joseph Thomson when he led his first expedition across Africa, and what the son of a Scottish borderman could accomplish, so ought these plucky and well-educated young Englishmen. They had all the rudiments of science needful for their purpose, and experience would teach them the rest.He therefore drew out a careful chart for them to follow, gave them full instructions how to treat with the natives, and, what was of most service, sent with them a full complement of tried native hunters, guides, interpreters, and carriers. They had not a boy that was not faithful and trustworthy. Each of them knew the man who had sent them, and could depend upon being well rewarded on their return.Amongst their servants, to their great delight, were Cocoeni and six of their fellow-prisoners. The rest had decided to return to their own people, but these, having nowhere else to go, volunteered gladly to join the expedition.Cocoeni had some adventures to tell them of their perils by the way. Fortunately, however, they had all got clear of the Transvaal without disaster.Their outfit was thoroughly complete to the smallest detail. A dozen of properly salted horses accompanied them, while they had eighty carriers to bear their luggage. A good waterproof tent was amongst the items, with medicines, beads, and bales of showy cotton to pay their way along.As for arms and ammunition, they had every weapon that was wanted for the largest game, as well as for smaller kinds. They were also amply provided with the best and latest improvements in rifles and revolvers, and sufficient ammunition to last them for a couple of years.Ned, of course, took the leadership, and his orders from headquarters were most liberal. He was given a wide track of yet unexplored country to traverse, with full licence to use his own discretion.“Keep a diary,” said Rhodes. “And jot down anything that interests you specially. Watch carefully the lands you pass through, and their condition and possibilities, and make the best maps you can of rivers, mountains, and plains. Above all, look carefully after your own health and that of your boys, and avoid as much as possible swampy and malarious ground.”For all the rest they were to do as they liked. Hunt, enjoy themselves, make friends as much as possible with the chiefs, and avoid anything like aggression.“Go, and stay away for at least six months, and when you return, bring a good report of yourselves. And may the Lord watch over you.”These were the final words of their commander, who, with his lieutenant, Dr Jim, had come to see them make the start.It gave them great confidence to have this great man as their friend and backer. They knew that he had smoothed many difficulties out of their path, and also that he would not be idle in their behalf during their absence. Kruger would not have it quite all his own way with Cecil Rhodes at their back.What a difference had those six months of freedom and responsibility made upon them! They were master men now in all respects excepting years. With this large following to look after and provide for, what remained of their boyhood, which the prison had not shown, now had left them for ever. Cecil Rhodes knew what he was about when he sent them off on their own account to face the dangers and trials of exploration.“If they come back, as I firmly believe they will, we shall have three worthy successors to Selous. These boys have brains and good pluck, and their prison experience will be all to their advantage. I am pleased with them, and have every confidence in their fitness for the task.”So Cecil Rhodes said, as he waved his riding-whip to them for the last time, and returned to his own heavy and multifold duties.Filled with fortitude and high hopes, our heroes departed, leading their company of followers into the tropical forest. They were on the outlook for adventures, and from the first day they were not disappointed.Every hour brought some fresh excitement, and opened new wonders to their eyes. They were passing through a land perfectly crammed with animal life, so that there was no fear of going supperless to sleep, so far at least.Our heroes had been wonderfully particular in keeping their diaries for the first week or two. A good deal oppressed with the importance of their mission, and fresh to the work of note-taking, they cudgelled their brains to find far-fetched and varied expressions, so as to give their efforts literary style. Their models in style were those ponderous and laboured essays which generally find favour with dictation masters, where a word repeated is considered bad form. The result was that their descriptions were of the grand, verbose, and vague order, rather than the terse and realistic. Striving to produce effect and variety of language, they at times forgot the main object, which was to make themselves intelligible, and present the route vividly in few words. Redundancy is the failing of juvenile literature. Brevity the soul of experience as well as wit, and simplicity the gift only of poets and matured masters.They went along, more often thinking of what they should write, than watching for material by the way. They pulled out their pocket-books when any particularly erudite words or expressions occurred to them, and jotted these down with supreme satisfaction, to drag them in somehow in the day’s log. At nights, while sitting at their camp fires, they compared these high-falutin notes, and mutually congratulated each other over these jaw-crackers. It was a sweet joy to read them over aloud, and roll them round their tongues. They were most generous to each other in imparting their critical advice, and sharing their choice expressions, while, as they had all been educated in the same school, the three logs, rolled into one, was written down by Ned, and after great deliberation and corrections, was laid aside as the final copy.This was composed and written, as they fondly imagined, for the printers. They were mighty particular, therefore, over it, so that it would read smoothly and roundly, and when done, they compared it with other travellers’ works that they had read, with happy conceit. Herodotus and Mungo Parke, they admitted modestly, had done as well, perhaps. Joseph Thomson also was pretty fair with his wise and moral reflections; but as for those other slovenly writers like Stanley, Selous, and such-like, they thought their amalgamated journal would keep them at a respectful distance.This juvenile mutual admiration and camp log rolling was a great solace to them for the first week or so. The journal interfered a good deal with sport and real business, of course. Thinking of it made them miss many a fine chance and good shot, and several times ran them into real danger; but it consoled them all the same, while the novelty lasted, for those other unavoidable mischances.Their carriers did not object, as it gave them many opportunities for resting, which they would not have had otherwise.But Cocoeni and the hunters protested often and vehemently against this waste of time and opportunities. The hunters, who had started full of faith in their young masters, lost a good deal of their enthusiasm and respect, and might have turned heel altogether in disgust, if Cocoeni had not flagged up their weakening interest. Cocoeni was, however, their right-hand man and staunch supporter. He was an enthusiast in deeds of daring and destruction, and equally ready to wash his spear in wild beast or hostile man. If he grunted impatiently when he saw the note-book produced instead of the gun, he always did his best to excuse the weakness and explain the mistake away to his sable brethren.“Bah! this is nothing,” he would say, when he saw the carefully tracked animal bound away unscathed, all on account of those note-books. “Don’t be afraid. This is only the beginning. By-and-by you will see our masters wake up and do great deeds. By-and-by they will not write. We have been together before, and I know them to be men.”A timely accident, for which Cocoeni was to blame, either with intent or through carelessness, terminated this fit of cocoethes scribendi for the rest of that expedition, at least, and woke them up to sterner duties.Cocoeni, whom they trusted with their most valuable effects, was one day carrying the small valise which contained their entire stock of writing-material. They were crossing a mountain torrent, which rushed tumultuously through a chasm and over a series of cataracts, when his foot slipped, and in an instant the precious packet was swept out of his grasp and whirled out of sight.The caravan was instantly stopped and a wild search ordered, in which Cocoeni willingly took the lead.But, alas! all that was found of the contents of the valise were a couple of closely written sheets. These Cocoeni brought back in a smudged and soapy condition after many hours’ absence. As for the broken valise and its pulpy contents, he said he had seen a greedy crocodile bolt these without compunction at one gulp, and straightway disappear into a dark pool as if he had taken enough.Our heroes spent a doleful night, looking at their crammed note-books and those two hardly legible sheets of paper, all that remained of their painful and laboured efforts.They had plenty of pencils, but not one blank scrap of paper to use them on. The wail of Ramma rang in their hearts, and for a time they were disconsolate.Then Ned plucked up his courage and cheered his chums.“We’ll just have to do a bit of memory practice after this, boys, and put down all we have seen when we get back to civilisation.”“Let us keep these two sheets carefully as a specimen of what we are capable of. I fancy they will rather impress our great chief when he reads them.”Comforted with this reflection, they packed their note-books and the manuscript carefully inside their medicine-chest, and devoted their future days to adventures, and their evenings to criticism on the faulty writings of other travellers. This cheered and elevated their minds greatly, until the time came when note-books and style were completely swallowed up by action as their valise had been by the saurian.When Cecil Rhodes read those two rescued pages he laid back in his chair and wept. When asked by Dr Jim the cause of his emotion, he replied that it was out of pity for that poor crocodile. Even the most loathsome of reptiles deserved commiseration for such a dire fate.We quote a few extracts from the precious manuscript which affected this most reticent of men so visibly. A little will be sufficient to prove how thoroughly in earnest our heroes were.“July 28.—The palaeolithic region over which we are passing possesses fertile streaks of fluviatile deposits that are most encouraging to future agriculturists. This superincumbent alluvium is most effusive on the depressed basins or water-sheds. Here also the tsetse fly is indigenous and multitudinous. Three of our horses have succumbed to the virulence of these pestiferous and dipterous insects.“Memo.—The tsetse is similar in appearance and magnitude to the ordinary house epidemic.“July 29.—After traversing for the past lunar month over more or less elevated plateaux, with intermissions of gorges and kloofs, we have commenced our descent into a deep depression, or valley. Before us extends an umbrageous and interminable wilderness. Precipitous cliffs bar our progress to the right and left, which have been gradually approaching each other until we are enclosed in a circumscribed upland chasm. We must either retrace our steps or enter this lower level. We have decided to proceed downwards. Hitherto we have been on friendly terms with the inhabitants. They have welcomed our presence and imparted to us all the information at their command. They have also accepted our presents with the most affable liberality.“The country over which we have passed has been generally adequately populated, with distinct communities and agglomerations of huts of considerable magnitude. It is well watered by rivers and tributaries, and each village has its own fructiferous plantation, also fields of maize, manioc, and other granuliferous produce. The Carnivora fissipedia is well represented in these upland regions, likewise the ungulated order. We have encountered several lions and leopards, and demolished a pair of the first and one of the latter species.”(One of these first-named Carnivora fissipedia had nearly demolished Ned while he was making his notes for this elaborate extract, only that Cocoeni came to his rescue just in the nick of time. Ned, however, did not think this narrow escape worth making a note about. It was merely a personal item, he said, which could not possibly interest the great public that he was striving so hard and conscientiously to instruct.)“We have been dining on buffalo-steak and elephant heart tonight, having bagged one of each species this afternoon in a reedy swamp through which we passed. The pecora was a tough customer to deal with, as we failed to kill him at the first volley, but eventually he was subdued. The tusks of the proboscidean weighed over a hundred pounds. We have inhumed this ivory until our return. Tomorrow we vertigate the forest.”
“Well, boys, at last we are having our desires and realising our wildest dreams.”
Ned was the speaker, and Fred and Clarence the recipients of his sentiments. Six weeks had gone by since the night they first slept at Salisbury, and now they were encamped in the heart of unknown Africa.
Cecil Rhodes, their benefactor, had taken up their idea of exploring, and as he never did things by half or in a dilatory fashion, he had fitted them with every requisite on a princely scale. As it was dangerous, even with all his great influence, to keep them within the limits of civilisation, he packed them off promptly and secretly to the kraal of a native ally, and there they remained perdu until their carriers and luggage were sent to them.
They were young and lacking in experience, but, as Rhodes said, so was Joseph Thomson when he led his first expedition across Africa, and what the son of a Scottish borderman could accomplish, so ought these plucky and well-educated young Englishmen. They had all the rudiments of science needful for their purpose, and experience would teach them the rest.
He therefore drew out a careful chart for them to follow, gave them full instructions how to treat with the natives, and, what was of most service, sent with them a full complement of tried native hunters, guides, interpreters, and carriers. They had not a boy that was not faithful and trustworthy. Each of them knew the man who had sent them, and could depend upon being well rewarded on their return.
Amongst their servants, to their great delight, were Cocoeni and six of their fellow-prisoners. The rest had decided to return to their own people, but these, having nowhere else to go, volunteered gladly to join the expedition.
Cocoeni had some adventures to tell them of their perils by the way. Fortunately, however, they had all got clear of the Transvaal without disaster.
Their outfit was thoroughly complete to the smallest detail. A dozen of properly salted horses accompanied them, while they had eighty carriers to bear their luggage. A good waterproof tent was amongst the items, with medicines, beads, and bales of showy cotton to pay their way along.
As for arms and ammunition, they had every weapon that was wanted for the largest game, as well as for smaller kinds. They were also amply provided with the best and latest improvements in rifles and revolvers, and sufficient ammunition to last them for a couple of years.
Ned, of course, took the leadership, and his orders from headquarters were most liberal. He was given a wide track of yet unexplored country to traverse, with full licence to use his own discretion.
“Keep a diary,” said Rhodes. “And jot down anything that interests you specially. Watch carefully the lands you pass through, and their condition and possibilities, and make the best maps you can of rivers, mountains, and plains. Above all, look carefully after your own health and that of your boys, and avoid as much as possible swampy and malarious ground.”
For all the rest they were to do as they liked. Hunt, enjoy themselves, make friends as much as possible with the chiefs, and avoid anything like aggression.
“Go, and stay away for at least six months, and when you return, bring a good report of yourselves. And may the Lord watch over you.”
These were the final words of their commander, who, with his lieutenant, Dr Jim, had come to see them make the start.
It gave them great confidence to have this great man as their friend and backer. They knew that he had smoothed many difficulties out of their path, and also that he would not be idle in their behalf during their absence. Kruger would not have it quite all his own way with Cecil Rhodes at their back.
What a difference had those six months of freedom and responsibility made upon them! They were master men now in all respects excepting years. With this large following to look after and provide for, what remained of their boyhood, which the prison had not shown, now had left them for ever. Cecil Rhodes knew what he was about when he sent them off on their own account to face the dangers and trials of exploration.
“If they come back, as I firmly believe they will, we shall have three worthy successors to Selous. These boys have brains and good pluck, and their prison experience will be all to their advantage. I am pleased with them, and have every confidence in their fitness for the task.”
So Cecil Rhodes said, as he waved his riding-whip to them for the last time, and returned to his own heavy and multifold duties.
Filled with fortitude and high hopes, our heroes departed, leading their company of followers into the tropical forest. They were on the outlook for adventures, and from the first day they were not disappointed.
Every hour brought some fresh excitement, and opened new wonders to their eyes. They were passing through a land perfectly crammed with animal life, so that there was no fear of going supperless to sleep, so far at least.
Our heroes had been wonderfully particular in keeping their diaries for the first week or two. A good deal oppressed with the importance of their mission, and fresh to the work of note-taking, they cudgelled their brains to find far-fetched and varied expressions, so as to give their efforts literary style. Their models in style were those ponderous and laboured essays which generally find favour with dictation masters, where a word repeated is considered bad form. The result was that their descriptions were of the grand, verbose, and vague order, rather than the terse and realistic. Striving to produce effect and variety of language, they at times forgot the main object, which was to make themselves intelligible, and present the route vividly in few words. Redundancy is the failing of juvenile literature. Brevity the soul of experience as well as wit, and simplicity the gift only of poets and matured masters.
They went along, more often thinking of what they should write, than watching for material by the way. They pulled out their pocket-books when any particularly erudite words or expressions occurred to them, and jotted these down with supreme satisfaction, to drag them in somehow in the day’s log. At nights, while sitting at their camp fires, they compared these high-falutin notes, and mutually congratulated each other over these jaw-crackers. It was a sweet joy to read them over aloud, and roll them round their tongues. They were most generous to each other in imparting their critical advice, and sharing their choice expressions, while, as they had all been educated in the same school, the three logs, rolled into one, was written down by Ned, and after great deliberation and corrections, was laid aside as the final copy.
This was composed and written, as they fondly imagined, for the printers. They were mighty particular, therefore, over it, so that it would read smoothly and roundly, and when done, they compared it with other travellers’ works that they had read, with happy conceit. Herodotus and Mungo Parke, they admitted modestly, had done as well, perhaps. Joseph Thomson also was pretty fair with his wise and moral reflections; but as for those other slovenly writers like Stanley, Selous, and such-like, they thought their amalgamated journal would keep them at a respectful distance.
This juvenile mutual admiration and camp log rolling was a great solace to them for the first week or so. The journal interfered a good deal with sport and real business, of course. Thinking of it made them miss many a fine chance and good shot, and several times ran them into real danger; but it consoled them all the same, while the novelty lasted, for those other unavoidable mischances.
Their carriers did not object, as it gave them many opportunities for resting, which they would not have had otherwise.
But Cocoeni and the hunters protested often and vehemently against this waste of time and opportunities. The hunters, who had started full of faith in their young masters, lost a good deal of their enthusiasm and respect, and might have turned heel altogether in disgust, if Cocoeni had not flagged up their weakening interest. Cocoeni was, however, their right-hand man and staunch supporter. He was an enthusiast in deeds of daring and destruction, and equally ready to wash his spear in wild beast or hostile man. If he grunted impatiently when he saw the note-book produced instead of the gun, he always did his best to excuse the weakness and explain the mistake away to his sable brethren.
“Bah! this is nothing,” he would say, when he saw the carefully tracked animal bound away unscathed, all on account of those note-books. “Don’t be afraid. This is only the beginning. By-and-by you will see our masters wake up and do great deeds. By-and-by they will not write. We have been together before, and I know them to be men.”
A timely accident, for which Cocoeni was to blame, either with intent or through carelessness, terminated this fit of cocoethes scribendi for the rest of that expedition, at least, and woke them up to sterner duties.
Cocoeni, whom they trusted with their most valuable effects, was one day carrying the small valise which contained their entire stock of writing-material. They were crossing a mountain torrent, which rushed tumultuously through a chasm and over a series of cataracts, when his foot slipped, and in an instant the precious packet was swept out of his grasp and whirled out of sight.
The caravan was instantly stopped and a wild search ordered, in which Cocoeni willingly took the lead.
But, alas! all that was found of the contents of the valise were a couple of closely written sheets. These Cocoeni brought back in a smudged and soapy condition after many hours’ absence. As for the broken valise and its pulpy contents, he said he had seen a greedy crocodile bolt these without compunction at one gulp, and straightway disappear into a dark pool as if he had taken enough.
Our heroes spent a doleful night, looking at their crammed note-books and those two hardly legible sheets of paper, all that remained of their painful and laboured efforts.
They had plenty of pencils, but not one blank scrap of paper to use them on. The wail of Ramma rang in their hearts, and for a time they were disconsolate.
Then Ned plucked up his courage and cheered his chums.
“We’ll just have to do a bit of memory practice after this, boys, and put down all we have seen when we get back to civilisation.”
“Let us keep these two sheets carefully as a specimen of what we are capable of. I fancy they will rather impress our great chief when he reads them.”
Comforted with this reflection, they packed their note-books and the manuscript carefully inside their medicine-chest, and devoted their future days to adventures, and their evenings to criticism on the faulty writings of other travellers. This cheered and elevated their minds greatly, until the time came when note-books and style were completely swallowed up by action as their valise had been by the saurian.
When Cecil Rhodes read those two rescued pages he laid back in his chair and wept. When asked by Dr Jim the cause of his emotion, he replied that it was out of pity for that poor crocodile. Even the most loathsome of reptiles deserved commiseration for such a dire fate.
We quote a few extracts from the precious manuscript which affected this most reticent of men so visibly. A little will be sufficient to prove how thoroughly in earnest our heroes were.
“July 28.—The palaeolithic region over which we are passing possesses fertile streaks of fluviatile deposits that are most encouraging to future agriculturists. This superincumbent alluvium is most effusive on the depressed basins or water-sheds. Here also the tsetse fly is indigenous and multitudinous. Three of our horses have succumbed to the virulence of these pestiferous and dipterous insects.
“Memo.—The tsetse is similar in appearance and magnitude to the ordinary house epidemic.
“July 29.—After traversing for the past lunar month over more or less elevated plateaux, with intermissions of gorges and kloofs, we have commenced our descent into a deep depression, or valley. Before us extends an umbrageous and interminable wilderness. Precipitous cliffs bar our progress to the right and left, which have been gradually approaching each other until we are enclosed in a circumscribed upland chasm. We must either retrace our steps or enter this lower level. We have decided to proceed downwards. Hitherto we have been on friendly terms with the inhabitants. They have welcomed our presence and imparted to us all the information at their command. They have also accepted our presents with the most affable liberality.
“The country over which we have passed has been generally adequately populated, with distinct communities and agglomerations of huts of considerable magnitude. It is well watered by rivers and tributaries, and each village has its own fructiferous plantation, also fields of maize, manioc, and other granuliferous produce. The Carnivora fissipedia is well represented in these upland regions, likewise the ungulated order. We have encountered several lions and leopards, and demolished a pair of the first and one of the latter species.”
(One of these first-named Carnivora fissipedia had nearly demolished Ned while he was making his notes for this elaborate extract, only that Cocoeni came to his rescue just in the nick of time. Ned, however, did not think this narrow escape worth making a note about. It was merely a personal item, he said, which could not possibly interest the great public that he was striving so hard and conscientiously to instruct.)
“We have been dining on buffalo-steak and elephant heart tonight, having bagged one of each species this afternoon in a reedy swamp through which we passed. The pecora was a tough customer to deal with, as we failed to kill him at the first volley, but eventually he was subdued. The tusks of the proboscidean weighed over a hundred pounds. We have inhumed this ivory until our return. Tomorrow we vertigate the forest.”
Chapter Twenty.In the Forest.Our heroes were encamped within the “umbrageous wilderness,” as Ned had named it.A howling wilderness they discovered it to be, where constant vigilance had to be exercised, and thinkers-out of verbose phrases had no place.Each moment of the day and night they had to be on the qui vive, for it swarmed with hostile enemies, both human, inhuman, and climatical. It was lovely in its tropic luxuriance and lushness. They cut their path through a labyrinth of juicy greens and vegetable parasites which untravelled Europeans see only in the hothouses of their botanic gardens. Great trunks festooned with tendrils rose and spread over their heads hundreds of feet. They were able only at rare intervals to see the lower limbs, for all above was so interlaced and covered, that an everlasting twilight of green reigned even on the brightest day.Sometimes a slender shaft of sunlight penetrated to the canopy over them and illumined a patch of leaves, making them gleam like old stained glass, but that was all they saw of the sun. As for moon or stars, they were perpetually shut out from these secluded glens and avenues.Round, as above them, the same mystical shadow prevailed. They could see an intricacy of snaky rope work and leaves intermingling, the creepers crossing and recrossing in all directions as they drooped or sprung up from the dank undergrowth, or threw themselves from tree to tree in bewildering arches. Through these tough tendrils they were forced to cut their path.The compass was their only guide, and Ned carried it in his hand and kept his eyes upon it constantly while they were on the march.Under their feet they squashed through oozy slime and rank vegetation, or tripped over spreading roots. They skirted deadly looking pools, black, and suggestive of unknown horrors where the fluid was visible. This was, they knew, only visible when it had been disturbed by the monsters who made it their noisome lair. The other portions were covered with flowering reeds and treacherous emerald bright grasses.There were paths intersecting this malarious dankness, some worn by human feet, others trampled by the ravenous beasts with which the forest teemed.They passed well-made, fresh-cut, and straight paths at times, but they did not use these tempting ways, for they knew the traps which they led to, as well as they knew that murderous eyes were watching them from the closely woven thickets and impenetrable canopy that covered them.They crossed streams where the clear water ran noisily over sandy shallows or flowed smoothly beneath waving leaves. Sometimes the ground became elevated and rocky, then again it dipped into dark hollows that made them shudder at what lay below them. At times they had to surmount precipices and listen to cataracts thundering down unknown depths. At times they drew back with horror at the covered edges of inky chasms.At night the blackness was palpable, except when it was rent up by the most vivid lightning-flashes and appalling thunder-peals. Then they heard all round them the splitting of limbs and crashing of giant trees which had been struck, while the tornado shrieked high up and the rain poured down solidly.The atmosphere was as airless, moist, and sultry as that within a Turkish bath. Whether they walked or stood during the day they were always wet with perspiration and gasping for breath. At night cold exhalations rose from the slimy soil and chilled them to the marrow.It was the dry season, or none of them could have survived this march. Yet it is never dry in those forests.In the mornings the densest of fogs shrouded everything, and clung to them like a vast grey muffler. This entered their lungs and nearly choked them with its thickness and heavy effluvia. While it lay round nothing stirred. Nature seemed dead, animal and insect life asleep; a weird and ominous hush brooded over the scene like the sombre stillness of a grave. They were entombed and spell-bound with the universal and dim death-silence.When this vapour dispersed, the labyrinth would suddenly start into life and swarm with motion and sounds. Birds would shriek at the welcome light, baboons chatter and swing themselves aloft with merry and noisy antics; butterflies would flutter and gleam with gorgeous colours as they sported through the open spaces.Swarms of fierce mosquitoes and other venomous insects buzzed and flew about, stinging viciously. Ants dropped down their necks or rushed up their trousers in countless hordes and with maddening effect. These tormentors never left them alone day or night. Under the deadly bite of the tsetse fly their most seasoned horses fell one by one, and had to be left behind before they had gone very far. This, however, did not discourage them, and when they came to the rock climbing they felt they were better without these poor beasts.All night long the forest resounded with the roaring, trumpeting, and other strange cries of wild beasts, while round their fires they could see at times an outer circle of flaming phosphorescent eyes. During the day they could see sometimes what they took to be a stout tendril or limb detach itself from the tree and glide noiselessly out of their path. Sometimes also what they thought was a mud-covered log in their path would suddenly gape horribly at them, showing serrated rows of gleaming teeth inside the ugly long snout, while the seedy monster wallowed ponderously into the turbid bog.These were only a few of the countless perils which beset them every foot of their leafy journey. The reptile, animal, and insect world encompassed them with as deadly intent as the noxious vapours. But what they had to look out for and dread more than these were the human savages who infested and disputed the upper branches with the man-like apes.But our heroes were resolute, and held on undauntedly day after day. They kept to one course with the dogged perseverance of Englishmen, and their followers followed after them with blind confidence.The wild beasts and savages they scared with their gunpowder and bullets. The malaria they fought with their medicine-chest. The insect pests they endured with philosophy.They went along happy and fearlessly, for it was their nature to enjoy danger and exertion. Their youth, buoyant spirits, and cheerful confidence not only supported them, but inspired their followers with the same fortitude, while their pure constitutions, unimpaired by any excess, rendered them almost invulnerable to the insidious grip of the fever. In this their patrons had made no mistake. Where older men would have succumbed they passed on unscathed.“I tell you what, boys, I call this jolly fine experience, and I consider us lucky to have it,” cried Ned one night, as he carefully took a bead at one of a pair of glowing green eyes which were shining out of the darkness.He fired, and immediately a wild stampede took place from all sides with thunderous roarings, while a bulky body leapt into the firelight and rolled over, clawing the ground in its death-throes.He had made no false aim this time, but had brought down a well-developed leopard.“A pity we cannot take those skins with us. The people outside won’t believe in our stories when we have nothing to show on our return. But we cannot cart any more luggage. Never mind, we have something to boast about all the same, whether we are credited or not, when we get back.”“If we get back,” murmured Clarence, gloomily.Since his knock on the head by the Boers, Clarence had suffered now and again from depressed spirits. The organ of hope must have been damaged somehow on that occasion. At the present moment, however, he had a touch of malarial fever, which always makes one feel very morbid and despairing.“Hallo, Clarence!” cried Ned. “I see you require some more quinine. Never mind, old fellow, we shall soon be out of this swamp; then you will be all right.”No one paid any attention to the dead leopard as yet. They had grown used to incidents of this sort, therefore felt little excitement. However, seeing that it was a magnificent specimen, and appeared jet black as it lay stretched out, Cocoeni rose and went over to skin it. While he was so engaged, the others kept a close watch over him with their guns, ready to shoot any covetous molester. As they watched the thickets round, they could see dark forms gliding about. These were wolves and hyenas waiting to devour the carcase when Cocoeni was done with it.From all sides resounded the howlings, sharp cries, and vibrating roarings of hungry animals on the prowl. These never ceased all through the night.Neither did the everlasting and varied croaking of the frogs, that kept up an increasing chorus, running up and down the scale of notes, from the deep bass of the bull to the reed-like treble of the tender froglet. Through this orchestra sounded the irritating and brisk humming of the indefatigable mosquitoes. As Ned remarked merrily, “No one could feel lonely while this concert went on.”They had no stint of fresh meat, for as they camped mostly where they found a running stream, the beasts generally had their choice of the menagerie as they came down to drink. Sometimes they would pot a fine young elephant or a hippopotamus, while they could always rely upon some variety of the antelope family for their larder.Each morning and night Ned served out regularly to each man two grains of quinine. If any showed symptoms of fever, he repeated this mild dose every half-hour until they were better. Clarence had been under this treatment for the past two days.“How much longer do you think we shall be in this earthly paradise?” asked Fred, as he brought his Metford up to his shoulder, and took a careful aim to the left of where Cocoeni was kneeling.Ned waited until the bullet had sped on its deadly mission, then he answered—“Not many days now, I reckon, Fred. We have been gradually ascending for the last day and a half, as you may know from the more solid state of the soil under our feet. That stream also, which has kept with us, shows that it comes from high lands by its speed. I expect we shall have some climbing to do very soon; then we shall begin to see the sun and have a breath of clear air.”“Where are you going to, baas?” asked Cocoeni, who had finished his skinning, and now returned to his place by the blazing fire. He spread the hide on the ground, and flung himself upon it as he spoke.“Straight ahead, wherever that may take us to,” answered Ned. “We will keep a bee-line as much as possible until we discover something worth reporting. This course is out of the ordinary track, as any one can tell from the absence of humans; so that we are sure to find out something new.”“Plenty humans by-and-by, you bet, baas; more than you may care to meet.”“Still we shall go on, Cocoeni, as far as we can. We shall be friendly with them, and spare them all we can; but if we have to fight, then we must do so.”“That all right, baas. Go ahead, and we will follow, never fear.”Ned knew this without one of his men assuring him. There wasn’t one of them who would turn and leave him in the lurch. They were all picked fighters as well as hunters, whose glory and occupation had been battle from their boyhood, while their pastime was the chase. The oldest man amongst them was not yet twenty-eight, while the others ranged from eighteen upwards to that glorious period of manhood and strength. They were also all tall fellows, belonging to the Matabele and Basuto races, who were absolutely fearless and disdainful of death in any aspect. They were devoted friends of Rhodes, who had won their fealty by courage, and their devotion by kindness afterwards. None would have turned back if they could, but now retreat was impossible, even if any would have entertained such a thought. Each man carried his own share of the load. In this duty our heroes also took their equal part, for these men were men-at-arms, not henchmen.They had cleared an open space, and made a huge fire in the centre, round which all now lay, except those appointed to keep watch and attend to the fire.High above, the smoke roared and filtered through the canopy of leafage. For a dozen yards on either side the ruddy flames lit up the massy trunks, tendrils, and drooping leaves which hemmed them in, with the fringe of close undergrowth which gave solidity to the thickets.They were camped near the bank of a torrent that rushed with impetuous force over rocks, foaming and swirling over and round these impediments, and covering the deep pools with curds and bubbles. This was the most cheerful sound of the many that filled their ears, and it lulled them to sleep. They had come upon it the day before, and as it was in their course, they had kept as close to it as they could.By-and-by only the watchers were awake, among whom stood Fred, with his rifle ready for emergencies. He, with Ned, had enjoyed perfect health since the start; only Clarence gave them any uneasiness.He was lying now on three folds of skins stretched face upwards, with his mouth open, and very wan and sallow. Fred occasionally looked at him with tender anxiety. He also attended to giving him his medicine regularly. Doubtless he would be all right when they got out of this fever-infested valley. He was still able to keep up with them, although he had not carried anything for the past two days.While Fred was looking at his sleeping friend and listening to the forest outcry, all at once he was startled by the most furious bellowing and hoarse shrieking, accompanied by the crashing and tearing of some huge body bursting through the thicket.Instantly his rifle was at his shoulder, and the barrel pointed in the direction of the advancing turmoil.Nor had he many seconds to wait before he saw a buffalo, with a leopard on his neck, rushing at full speed along the open avenue which they had made in coming straight towards their camp.He fired instantly, as did also the other watchers, and before they could get in second shots, the infuriated beasts had thundered past them into the other side of the forest. The buffalo had swerved aside at sight of the fire, and passed just within a couple of feet of where Cocoeni lay stretched on his new skin. As the pair rushed past, Fred had a passing glimpse of the red blood glistening ruddily on the sides of the bull as it gushed out of his wounds.Fred calmly reloaded and stood once more at attention, for this was but one of many such incidents which might be expected before the morning fog rose and enveloped them.
Our heroes were encamped within the “umbrageous wilderness,” as Ned had named it.
A howling wilderness they discovered it to be, where constant vigilance had to be exercised, and thinkers-out of verbose phrases had no place.
Each moment of the day and night they had to be on the qui vive, for it swarmed with hostile enemies, both human, inhuman, and climatical. It was lovely in its tropic luxuriance and lushness. They cut their path through a labyrinth of juicy greens and vegetable parasites which untravelled Europeans see only in the hothouses of their botanic gardens. Great trunks festooned with tendrils rose and spread over their heads hundreds of feet. They were able only at rare intervals to see the lower limbs, for all above was so interlaced and covered, that an everlasting twilight of green reigned even on the brightest day.
Sometimes a slender shaft of sunlight penetrated to the canopy over them and illumined a patch of leaves, making them gleam like old stained glass, but that was all they saw of the sun. As for moon or stars, they were perpetually shut out from these secluded glens and avenues.
Round, as above them, the same mystical shadow prevailed. They could see an intricacy of snaky rope work and leaves intermingling, the creepers crossing and recrossing in all directions as they drooped or sprung up from the dank undergrowth, or threw themselves from tree to tree in bewildering arches. Through these tough tendrils they were forced to cut their path.
The compass was their only guide, and Ned carried it in his hand and kept his eyes upon it constantly while they were on the march.
Under their feet they squashed through oozy slime and rank vegetation, or tripped over spreading roots. They skirted deadly looking pools, black, and suggestive of unknown horrors where the fluid was visible. This was, they knew, only visible when it had been disturbed by the monsters who made it their noisome lair. The other portions were covered with flowering reeds and treacherous emerald bright grasses.
There were paths intersecting this malarious dankness, some worn by human feet, others trampled by the ravenous beasts with which the forest teemed.
They passed well-made, fresh-cut, and straight paths at times, but they did not use these tempting ways, for they knew the traps which they led to, as well as they knew that murderous eyes were watching them from the closely woven thickets and impenetrable canopy that covered them.
They crossed streams where the clear water ran noisily over sandy shallows or flowed smoothly beneath waving leaves. Sometimes the ground became elevated and rocky, then again it dipped into dark hollows that made them shudder at what lay below them. At times they had to surmount precipices and listen to cataracts thundering down unknown depths. At times they drew back with horror at the covered edges of inky chasms.
At night the blackness was palpable, except when it was rent up by the most vivid lightning-flashes and appalling thunder-peals. Then they heard all round them the splitting of limbs and crashing of giant trees which had been struck, while the tornado shrieked high up and the rain poured down solidly.
The atmosphere was as airless, moist, and sultry as that within a Turkish bath. Whether they walked or stood during the day they were always wet with perspiration and gasping for breath. At night cold exhalations rose from the slimy soil and chilled them to the marrow.
It was the dry season, or none of them could have survived this march. Yet it is never dry in those forests.
In the mornings the densest of fogs shrouded everything, and clung to them like a vast grey muffler. This entered their lungs and nearly choked them with its thickness and heavy effluvia. While it lay round nothing stirred. Nature seemed dead, animal and insect life asleep; a weird and ominous hush brooded over the scene like the sombre stillness of a grave. They were entombed and spell-bound with the universal and dim death-silence.
When this vapour dispersed, the labyrinth would suddenly start into life and swarm with motion and sounds. Birds would shriek at the welcome light, baboons chatter and swing themselves aloft with merry and noisy antics; butterflies would flutter and gleam with gorgeous colours as they sported through the open spaces.
Swarms of fierce mosquitoes and other venomous insects buzzed and flew about, stinging viciously. Ants dropped down their necks or rushed up their trousers in countless hordes and with maddening effect. These tormentors never left them alone day or night. Under the deadly bite of the tsetse fly their most seasoned horses fell one by one, and had to be left behind before they had gone very far. This, however, did not discourage them, and when they came to the rock climbing they felt they were better without these poor beasts.
All night long the forest resounded with the roaring, trumpeting, and other strange cries of wild beasts, while round their fires they could see at times an outer circle of flaming phosphorescent eyes. During the day they could see sometimes what they took to be a stout tendril or limb detach itself from the tree and glide noiselessly out of their path. Sometimes also what they thought was a mud-covered log in their path would suddenly gape horribly at them, showing serrated rows of gleaming teeth inside the ugly long snout, while the seedy monster wallowed ponderously into the turbid bog.
These were only a few of the countless perils which beset them every foot of their leafy journey. The reptile, animal, and insect world encompassed them with as deadly intent as the noxious vapours. But what they had to look out for and dread more than these were the human savages who infested and disputed the upper branches with the man-like apes.
But our heroes were resolute, and held on undauntedly day after day. They kept to one course with the dogged perseverance of Englishmen, and their followers followed after them with blind confidence.
The wild beasts and savages they scared with their gunpowder and bullets. The malaria they fought with their medicine-chest. The insect pests they endured with philosophy.
They went along happy and fearlessly, for it was their nature to enjoy danger and exertion. Their youth, buoyant spirits, and cheerful confidence not only supported them, but inspired their followers with the same fortitude, while their pure constitutions, unimpaired by any excess, rendered them almost invulnerable to the insidious grip of the fever. In this their patrons had made no mistake. Where older men would have succumbed they passed on unscathed.
“I tell you what, boys, I call this jolly fine experience, and I consider us lucky to have it,” cried Ned one night, as he carefully took a bead at one of a pair of glowing green eyes which were shining out of the darkness.
He fired, and immediately a wild stampede took place from all sides with thunderous roarings, while a bulky body leapt into the firelight and rolled over, clawing the ground in its death-throes.
He had made no false aim this time, but had brought down a well-developed leopard.
“A pity we cannot take those skins with us. The people outside won’t believe in our stories when we have nothing to show on our return. But we cannot cart any more luggage. Never mind, we have something to boast about all the same, whether we are credited or not, when we get back.”
“If we get back,” murmured Clarence, gloomily.
Since his knock on the head by the Boers, Clarence had suffered now and again from depressed spirits. The organ of hope must have been damaged somehow on that occasion. At the present moment, however, he had a touch of malarial fever, which always makes one feel very morbid and despairing.
“Hallo, Clarence!” cried Ned. “I see you require some more quinine. Never mind, old fellow, we shall soon be out of this swamp; then you will be all right.”
No one paid any attention to the dead leopard as yet. They had grown used to incidents of this sort, therefore felt little excitement. However, seeing that it was a magnificent specimen, and appeared jet black as it lay stretched out, Cocoeni rose and went over to skin it. While he was so engaged, the others kept a close watch over him with their guns, ready to shoot any covetous molester. As they watched the thickets round, they could see dark forms gliding about. These were wolves and hyenas waiting to devour the carcase when Cocoeni was done with it.
From all sides resounded the howlings, sharp cries, and vibrating roarings of hungry animals on the prowl. These never ceased all through the night.
Neither did the everlasting and varied croaking of the frogs, that kept up an increasing chorus, running up and down the scale of notes, from the deep bass of the bull to the reed-like treble of the tender froglet. Through this orchestra sounded the irritating and brisk humming of the indefatigable mosquitoes. As Ned remarked merrily, “No one could feel lonely while this concert went on.”
They had no stint of fresh meat, for as they camped mostly where they found a running stream, the beasts generally had their choice of the menagerie as they came down to drink. Sometimes they would pot a fine young elephant or a hippopotamus, while they could always rely upon some variety of the antelope family for their larder.
Each morning and night Ned served out regularly to each man two grains of quinine. If any showed symptoms of fever, he repeated this mild dose every half-hour until they were better. Clarence had been under this treatment for the past two days.
“How much longer do you think we shall be in this earthly paradise?” asked Fred, as he brought his Metford up to his shoulder, and took a careful aim to the left of where Cocoeni was kneeling.
Ned waited until the bullet had sped on its deadly mission, then he answered—
“Not many days now, I reckon, Fred. We have been gradually ascending for the last day and a half, as you may know from the more solid state of the soil under our feet. That stream also, which has kept with us, shows that it comes from high lands by its speed. I expect we shall have some climbing to do very soon; then we shall begin to see the sun and have a breath of clear air.”
“Where are you going to, baas?” asked Cocoeni, who had finished his skinning, and now returned to his place by the blazing fire. He spread the hide on the ground, and flung himself upon it as he spoke.
“Straight ahead, wherever that may take us to,” answered Ned. “We will keep a bee-line as much as possible until we discover something worth reporting. This course is out of the ordinary track, as any one can tell from the absence of humans; so that we are sure to find out something new.”
“Plenty humans by-and-by, you bet, baas; more than you may care to meet.”
“Still we shall go on, Cocoeni, as far as we can. We shall be friendly with them, and spare them all we can; but if we have to fight, then we must do so.”
“That all right, baas. Go ahead, and we will follow, never fear.”
Ned knew this without one of his men assuring him. There wasn’t one of them who would turn and leave him in the lurch. They were all picked fighters as well as hunters, whose glory and occupation had been battle from their boyhood, while their pastime was the chase. The oldest man amongst them was not yet twenty-eight, while the others ranged from eighteen upwards to that glorious period of manhood and strength. They were also all tall fellows, belonging to the Matabele and Basuto races, who were absolutely fearless and disdainful of death in any aspect. They were devoted friends of Rhodes, who had won their fealty by courage, and their devotion by kindness afterwards. None would have turned back if they could, but now retreat was impossible, even if any would have entertained such a thought. Each man carried his own share of the load. In this duty our heroes also took their equal part, for these men were men-at-arms, not henchmen.
They had cleared an open space, and made a huge fire in the centre, round which all now lay, except those appointed to keep watch and attend to the fire.
High above, the smoke roared and filtered through the canopy of leafage. For a dozen yards on either side the ruddy flames lit up the massy trunks, tendrils, and drooping leaves which hemmed them in, with the fringe of close undergrowth which gave solidity to the thickets.
They were camped near the bank of a torrent that rushed with impetuous force over rocks, foaming and swirling over and round these impediments, and covering the deep pools with curds and bubbles. This was the most cheerful sound of the many that filled their ears, and it lulled them to sleep. They had come upon it the day before, and as it was in their course, they had kept as close to it as they could.
By-and-by only the watchers were awake, among whom stood Fred, with his rifle ready for emergencies. He, with Ned, had enjoyed perfect health since the start; only Clarence gave them any uneasiness.
He was lying now on three folds of skins stretched face upwards, with his mouth open, and very wan and sallow. Fred occasionally looked at him with tender anxiety. He also attended to giving him his medicine regularly. Doubtless he would be all right when they got out of this fever-infested valley. He was still able to keep up with them, although he had not carried anything for the past two days.
While Fred was looking at his sleeping friend and listening to the forest outcry, all at once he was startled by the most furious bellowing and hoarse shrieking, accompanied by the crashing and tearing of some huge body bursting through the thicket.
Instantly his rifle was at his shoulder, and the barrel pointed in the direction of the advancing turmoil.
Nor had he many seconds to wait before he saw a buffalo, with a leopard on his neck, rushing at full speed along the open avenue which they had made in coming straight towards their camp.
He fired instantly, as did also the other watchers, and before they could get in second shots, the infuriated beasts had thundered past them into the other side of the forest. The buffalo had swerved aside at sight of the fire, and passed just within a couple of feet of where Cocoeni lay stretched on his new skin. As the pair rushed past, Fred had a passing glimpse of the red blood glistening ruddily on the sides of the bull as it gushed out of his wounds.
Fred calmly reloaded and stood once more at attention, for this was but one of many such incidents which might be expected before the morning fog rose and enveloped them.