Chapter Thirty Three.The Escape.Swiftly and silently the leopards were harnessed to the chariots. Then each amazon took the reins, and, with her particular friend beside her, drove through the gates and into the almost deserted streets.It was two hours past midnight now, and the citizens, with the exception of the guards and the male revellers, were long since asleep.A lovely night for a drive, for young people particularly. Only the roaring of the confined beasts, with the calling of the frogs in the papyrus reeds, could be heard. Serene and mellow the moon looked down from a cloudless sky upon the restful city, the empty wharfs and stairs, and the fringe-lined lake, where also slept their god-ships, the crocodiles. It was a splendid country for women, cats, crocodiles, serpents, and other sacred and venerated things, but not so favourable to men. Our adventurers were leaving it gladly.At the outer gate they had a little trouble, as Pylea had expected.The commandress chanced to be one of the ladies who had decided to compete in the lists on the morrow. She had fixed her discriminating eyes upon Cocoeni, and when roused up by a subordinate, regarded the exodus with gloomy suspicion.The order, however, was so definite, and the signet-ring beyond dispute; yet she wanted some particulars.“It is the written command of Queen Isori, that these strangers pass through without delay. They go to offer sacrifice to their gods in the desert before the contest,” added Pylea, with a dig of her heel at Ned, who crouched behind.“Yes, dauntless captain,” said Ned. “Your gods are not our gods, nor your customs ours.”“Are these the sacrifices you take with you?” asked the stately amazon, pointing to the packages.“Yes,” answered Ned, brazenly, “our offerings are all there.”“It is strange, for I was with the queen before supper, and she said nothing of this. Let me send a messenger to her.”“By no means. See, it is written here that she is not to be disturbed this night on pain of death. She is weary with her journey, and wishes to prepare also against the morning.”“Humph! it is my duty; pass on.”Ned waited with Pylea to see the other chariots go through. As they did so, the native amazon looked at each one keenly.“Stop!” she cried, as Cocoeni was passing; “this is the man I have chosen to fight with. Step forth and let me look at you.”“Get out and satisfy the captain, Cocoeni,” said Ned. “Show your muscles, and be quick about it.”Cocoeni rose, nothing loth, and stalked up to the side of the amazon. She turned him round, feeling his biceps critically, as an intending purchaser might examine a horse. Standing side by side, their heads were on a level, a splendid pair as to height and breadth of shoulders. But the woman had seen more than thirty summers, whereas Cocoeni was her junior by many years.“You are a fine fellow, yet I think I can throw you,” she said, while her black eyes sparkled with admiration. “Will you try once with me now?”“Shall I, baas?”“Yes,” answered Ned. “Get her on the other side of the gate, over by the green bank, while we all pass through. Then, don’t waste any time, grip her quick and pitch her into the lake, if you can. It will create a diversion.”He gave these instructions, in English; then, turning to the warlike dame, he said mildly in her language—“The lord Cocoeni will take up your offer, brave lady; but as I have no desire to see either of you hurt on the hard stones, and so spoil our sport when the day comes, I fix upon yonder soft sward as the ground. One throw only.”“So let it be.”The dame retired for a moment to prepare herself and do up her hair. She had been standing up to now in her night costume.While she was absent, Pylea whispered something to one of her band. The girl nodded, and, turning her chariot, darted back the way they came.“Where is she going?” asked Ned.“To keep watch in the shadows,” whispered Pylea. “This woman is my aunt, therefore I know her well. She will send a messenger to the palace while she delays us, and that messenger must be stopped.”“Oh! Cannot we make a bolt for it while she is inside?”“Two hundred bows would be bent if we did so. One bow will be quite sufficient,” answered Pylea, calmly.She was a plucky girl, quick and prompt in her actions, and had proved a first-rate chum all through to Ned and his friends, but she had no weak sentimentalism about her. She could remove a human impediment with the some utter indifference that country ladies kill pullets. As a friend, however, she was sans reproche. Ned felt that the present occasion was one in which he must not be too fastidious, yet he shuddered to think of the luckless messenger.As the last of the chariots, except that one which had turned back, passed beneath the lintel of the archway, Ned saw a white-robed, bald-headed little man steal out of a side-window, and glide rapidly across the moonlight to the shadow side of the road. As he did so, Pylea again touched Ned with her foot.“My aunt will be a widow sooner than she intended,” she whispered. “There goes my uncle to meet his death.”Almost immediately afterwards the amazonian aunt came out of the guard-house door, clad in light chain armour, and with only a scarf tied tightly round her waist. She was barefooted, so that she might not slip easy. She looked a formidable figure as she strode over to where Cocoeni was waiting for her. A crowd of the guard was gathered round, leaving the gate open and unprotected.“Wait one instant,” said Pylea. “Ah, here they come.”The young amazon who had been sent back, drove her chariot and her Kaffir passenger almost noiselessly. She nodded slightly as she drew up, and murmured softly—“He lies in the shadow, thirty yards distant. I removed the arrow from his heart as we passed him.”“Good,” answered Pylea; then together they passed through the gate and drew up at the other side.Pylea, having ordered her followers to drive on out of arrow-shot, remained behind with Ned and Cocoeni’s driver to watch the contest.The combatants stood face to face watching each other keenly, and looking out for a chance to spring in. The newly made widow was a wily old bird, and up to every feint. She was in no haste to close, as she wished to linger the game. Several times she pretended to be about to take the leap, always to draw back.“Quick, Cocoeni; trust to your strength and finish it,” cried Ned, who was chaffing at the delay.“All right, baas.”Cocoeni walked slowly towards the amazon, who now began to retreat, but towards the edge of the water. Seeing this, she suddenly sprang to one side and attempted to pass him.It was a fatal move; for Cocoeni, quick as lightning, leapt upon her, and gripped her sideways, slipping both arms under hers as she twisted round.There was no question of chivalry or gentle treatment now. The woman felt, as those muscular long arms closed round her, as if she was in the embrace of a python. It was such a hug as she had never before received. Her ribs felt cracking, and her lungs compressed so that she could not breathe or use her arms. She was taken at a disadvantage and completely at his mercy.Cocoeni had his back towards the lake, which was three yards distant. With a hoarse, savage laugh, he imprinted a loud kiss on the open mouth so close to him, and the next instant sent her flying over his head three feet clear of the bank. With a shrill cry and a loud splash, she disappeared into the water.“There, baas, she will not forget the throw of Cocoeni,” he shouted, as he clambered into his chariot.Away they dashed at full speed—getting a parting glimpse of the drenched dame as she scrambled drippingly ashore; past the suburban villas and fields and out to the arid desert.“My aunt Culpatra will not be content with one messenger,” cried Pylea, as they rushed along. “We shall be pursued by the queen and her army. Fortunately, we have an hour’s start, and these animals are the best in Karnadama.”“But extra loaded,” answered Ned.“Yes; yet you can shoot with your guns further than they can with their arrows.”“I hope we shall not have to do this.”Twice before daybreak did Pylea and her companions stop their leopards to feed them with those little cakes. After the animals had eaten these they went on with renewed speed.“What is that you give them, Pylea?”“Something to keep them fresh. A little does them good and removes fatigue. Too much will kill them, yet they will run with unabated speed until they drop dead. I fear most of these will be dead when we reach the mountain, for we must not spare them this journey.”Day came and almost passed, without any signs of pursuit. The only stops they made were those when more of the cakes were given to the animals. Then they went on again at full speed, seemingly as fresh as ever.The sun was just dipping below the desert line when Ned saw a long low cloud appear. He did not need to call the attention of Pylea to ask its meaning. The pursuers were coming.All that night the leopards ran at their swiftest, being fed often. When morning broke the gold mountain was distinctly visible; but so also were their followers. A long line of moving dust rolled in the rear, spreading miles wide. Queen Isori had brought half her army with her, and they were driving lightly. She was resolved to stop the fugitives if she could.Onwards! The pursuers are gaining ground, but they are still as far off as the mountain, and it is stationary.The leopards are fed recklessly, and rush along madly as if they were free. With long bounds they cover yards of ground at a time. Their eyes blaze fearfully, and bloody froth flies from their gaping jaws. They want no driving now; they are possessed with the most savage fury.“They will reach the mountain. We dare feed them no longer; they are mad,” cried Pylea, looking only at the cliffs.Ned was looking behind. How rapidly the pursuers were gaining! Already he could distinguish individuals where before he had only seen a confused mass. Their arrows were gleaming in the bright sunbeams.At last! The chariot jolted suddenly and overturned, sending Ned and his bundle sprawling. Pylea had leaped lightly out and was helping him up.The leopards lay gasping their last breath. All along the line the others lay in the same condition. Some had fallen exhausted, others the amazons had slain with their arrows, to prevent the maddened beasts from dashing against the rocks.The drivers and passengers were running full speed for the archway, carrying their loads with them. From the desert came a hoarse roar like the sound of waves breaking on shingle.It was the army of Karnadama urging on their lions and leopards.“Quick!” panted Pylea, no longer calm.Ned got up and ran, as he had never done before, through the hall, and up the long stairway that led to freedom.“Run on for your lives, and look not back; we will follow,” cried Pylea, as she ranged her warriors in front of the stairs.Up they went, one after the other, as fast as they could scramble, those thousands of steps. Exhausted at last, they reached the chamber of the pythons.Here they sank down breathless to wait on Pylea and her regiment.Not a sound could be heard from below. Had the brave girls remained there to face their infuriated queen? For the second time in their lives our heroes felt themselves to be mean cowards. The first time had been when they killed the baby gorilla.“We can never leave these brave girls in the lurch like this, lads. We must return and save them, or die with them,” cried Ned, in sharp tones of agony.Gripping his revolver, and followed by his men, he rushed with frantic steps down the stairs.At the fourth landing he stopped suddenly. There before him leaned against the wall the friend of Cocoeni, with the blood dripping through her fingers as she pressed her hand against her side.“Come no further,” she gasped faintly. “I only am left alive.”“What!” cried Ned, starting back in dismay. “Are they all slain? Is Pylea also dead?”Cocoeni by this time had reached forward, and was holding the dying girl in his arms, the hot tears running down his cheeks.“All,” replied the girl. “I was sent forward to close the wall at the first stair. Before I reached it they were cut down. I saw Pylea fall even as I received this wound, but I had strength enough to close the stone door and creep up the stairs thus far.”Her head sank as she uttered the last words against the breast of Cocoeni.“Bring her up to the hall, Cocoeni,” said Ned, brokenly.Not a dry eye was amongst them.Cocoeni carried her up as gently as he could, but before they reached the sculptured hall, she was almost gone.As he laid her down, she opened her eyes and smiled wanly. Then she whispered so faintly that they had to bend close to hear the feeble accents.“They cannot open the door I closed, for hours. You have time to escape. Destroy the stairs at the top and you are safe.”Her military trained mind was still planning, even although the life-blood was nearly drained from her heart. Another long pause, and then she opened her lips and her eyes for the last time.“Cocoeni, you are only a man, after all, for you are weeping just as ours do when they are hurt. Kiss me, as you did two nights ago in the garden, for which I rebuked you then, but I am now as weak and foolish as you are.”Cocoeni pressed his warm lips to her cold ones. When he removed them her lips remained apart. She was dead.
Swiftly and silently the leopards were harnessed to the chariots. Then each amazon took the reins, and, with her particular friend beside her, drove through the gates and into the almost deserted streets.
It was two hours past midnight now, and the citizens, with the exception of the guards and the male revellers, were long since asleep.
A lovely night for a drive, for young people particularly. Only the roaring of the confined beasts, with the calling of the frogs in the papyrus reeds, could be heard. Serene and mellow the moon looked down from a cloudless sky upon the restful city, the empty wharfs and stairs, and the fringe-lined lake, where also slept their god-ships, the crocodiles. It was a splendid country for women, cats, crocodiles, serpents, and other sacred and venerated things, but not so favourable to men. Our adventurers were leaving it gladly.
At the outer gate they had a little trouble, as Pylea had expected.
The commandress chanced to be one of the ladies who had decided to compete in the lists on the morrow. She had fixed her discriminating eyes upon Cocoeni, and when roused up by a subordinate, regarded the exodus with gloomy suspicion.
The order, however, was so definite, and the signet-ring beyond dispute; yet she wanted some particulars.
“It is the written command of Queen Isori, that these strangers pass through without delay. They go to offer sacrifice to their gods in the desert before the contest,” added Pylea, with a dig of her heel at Ned, who crouched behind.
“Yes, dauntless captain,” said Ned. “Your gods are not our gods, nor your customs ours.”
“Are these the sacrifices you take with you?” asked the stately amazon, pointing to the packages.
“Yes,” answered Ned, brazenly, “our offerings are all there.”
“It is strange, for I was with the queen before supper, and she said nothing of this. Let me send a messenger to her.”
“By no means. See, it is written here that she is not to be disturbed this night on pain of death. She is weary with her journey, and wishes to prepare also against the morning.”
“Humph! it is my duty; pass on.”
Ned waited with Pylea to see the other chariots go through. As they did so, the native amazon looked at each one keenly.
“Stop!” she cried, as Cocoeni was passing; “this is the man I have chosen to fight with. Step forth and let me look at you.”
“Get out and satisfy the captain, Cocoeni,” said Ned. “Show your muscles, and be quick about it.”
Cocoeni rose, nothing loth, and stalked up to the side of the amazon. She turned him round, feeling his biceps critically, as an intending purchaser might examine a horse. Standing side by side, their heads were on a level, a splendid pair as to height and breadth of shoulders. But the woman had seen more than thirty summers, whereas Cocoeni was her junior by many years.
“You are a fine fellow, yet I think I can throw you,” she said, while her black eyes sparkled with admiration. “Will you try once with me now?”
“Shall I, baas?”
“Yes,” answered Ned. “Get her on the other side of the gate, over by the green bank, while we all pass through. Then, don’t waste any time, grip her quick and pitch her into the lake, if you can. It will create a diversion.”
He gave these instructions, in English; then, turning to the warlike dame, he said mildly in her language—
“The lord Cocoeni will take up your offer, brave lady; but as I have no desire to see either of you hurt on the hard stones, and so spoil our sport when the day comes, I fix upon yonder soft sward as the ground. One throw only.”
“So let it be.”
The dame retired for a moment to prepare herself and do up her hair. She had been standing up to now in her night costume.
While she was absent, Pylea whispered something to one of her band. The girl nodded, and, turning her chariot, darted back the way they came.
“Where is she going?” asked Ned.
“To keep watch in the shadows,” whispered Pylea. “This woman is my aunt, therefore I know her well. She will send a messenger to the palace while she delays us, and that messenger must be stopped.”
“Oh! Cannot we make a bolt for it while she is inside?”
“Two hundred bows would be bent if we did so. One bow will be quite sufficient,” answered Pylea, calmly.
She was a plucky girl, quick and prompt in her actions, and had proved a first-rate chum all through to Ned and his friends, but she had no weak sentimentalism about her. She could remove a human impediment with the some utter indifference that country ladies kill pullets. As a friend, however, she was sans reproche. Ned felt that the present occasion was one in which he must not be too fastidious, yet he shuddered to think of the luckless messenger.
As the last of the chariots, except that one which had turned back, passed beneath the lintel of the archway, Ned saw a white-robed, bald-headed little man steal out of a side-window, and glide rapidly across the moonlight to the shadow side of the road. As he did so, Pylea again touched Ned with her foot.
“My aunt will be a widow sooner than she intended,” she whispered. “There goes my uncle to meet his death.”
Almost immediately afterwards the amazonian aunt came out of the guard-house door, clad in light chain armour, and with only a scarf tied tightly round her waist. She was barefooted, so that she might not slip easy. She looked a formidable figure as she strode over to where Cocoeni was waiting for her. A crowd of the guard was gathered round, leaving the gate open and unprotected.
“Wait one instant,” said Pylea. “Ah, here they come.”
The young amazon who had been sent back, drove her chariot and her Kaffir passenger almost noiselessly. She nodded slightly as she drew up, and murmured softly—
“He lies in the shadow, thirty yards distant. I removed the arrow from his heart as we passed him.”
“Good,” answered Pylea; then together they passed through the gate and drew up at the other side.
Pylea, having ordered her followers to drive on out of arrow-shot, remained behind with Ned and Cocoeni’s driver to watch the contest.
The combatants stood face to face watching each other keenly, and looking out for a chance to spring in. The newly made widow was a wily old bird, and up to every feint. She was in no haste to close, as she wished to linger the game. Several times she pretended to be about to take the leap, always to draw back.
“Quick, Cocoeni; trust to your strength and finish it,” cried Ned, who was chaffing at the delay.
“All right, baas.”
Cocoeni walked slowly towards the amazon, who now began to retreat, but towards the edge of the water. Seeing this, she suddenly sprang to one side and attempted to pass him.
It was a fatal move; for Cocoeni, quick as lightning, leapt upon her, and gripped her sideways, slipping both arms under hers as she twisted round.
There was no question of chivalry or gentle treatment now. The woman felt, as those muscular long arms closed round her, as if she was in the embrace of a python. It was such a hug as she had never before received. Her ribs felt cracking, and her lungs compressed so that she could not breathe or use her arms. She was taken at a disadvantage and completely at his mercy.
Cocoeni had his back towards the lake, which was three yards distant. With a hoarse, savage laugh, he imprinted a loud kiss on the open mouth so close to him, and the next instant sent her flying over his head three feet clear of the bank. With a shrill cry and a loud splash, she disappeared into the water.
“There, baas, she will not forget the throw of Cocoeni,” he shouted, as he clambered into his chariot.
Away they dashed at full speed—getting a parting glimpse of the drenched dame as she scrambled drippingly ashore; past the suburban villas and fields and out to the arid desert.
“My aunt Culpatra will not be content with one messenger,” cried Pylea, as they rushed along. “We shall be pursued by the queen and her army. Fortunately, we have an hour’s start, and these animals are the best in Karnadama.”
“But extra loaded,” answered Ned.
“Yes; yet you can shoot with your guns further than they can with their arrows.”
“I hope we shall not have to do this.”
Twice before daybreak did Pylea and her companions stop their leopards to feed them with those little cakes. After the animals had eaten these they went on with renewed speed.
“What is that you give them, Pylea?”
“Something to keep them fresh. A little does them good and removes fatigue. Too much will kill them, yet they will run with unabated speed until they drop dead. I fear most of these will be dead when we reach the mountain, for we must not spare them this journey.”
Day came and almost passed, without any signs of pursuit. The only stops they made were those when more of the cakes were given to the animals. Then they went on again at full speed, seemingly as fresh as ever.
The sun was just dipping below the desert line when Ned saw a long low cloud appear. He did not need to call the attention of Pylea to ask its meaning. The pursuers were coming.
All that night the leopards ran at their swiftest, being fed often. When morning broke the gold mountain was distinctly visible; but so also were their followers. A long line of moving dust rolled in the rear, spreading miles wide. Queen Isori had brought half her army with her, and they were driving lightly. She was resolved to stop the fugitives if she could.
Onwards! The pursuers are gaining ground, but they are still as far off as the mountain, and it is stationary.
The leopards are fed recklessly, and rush along madly as if they were free. With long bounds they cover yards of ground at a time. Their eyes blaze fearfully, and bloody froth flies from their gaping jaws. They want no driving now; they are possessed with the most savage fury.
“They will reach the mountain. We dare feed them no longer; they are mad,” cried Pylea, looking only at the cliffs.
Ned was looking behind. How rapidly the pursuers were gaining! Already he could distinguish individuals where before he had only seen a confused mass. Their arrows were gleaming in the bright sunbeams.
At last! The chariot jolted suddenly and overturned, sending Ned and his bundle sprawling. Pylea had leaped lightly out and was helping him up.
The leopards lay gasping their last breath. All along the line the others lay in the same condition. Some had fallen exhausted, others the amazons had slain with their arrows, to prevent the maddened beasts from dashing against the rocks.
The drivers and passengers were running full speed for the archway, carrying their loads with them. From the desert came a hoarse roar like the sound of waves breaking on shingle.
It was the army of Karnadama urging on their lions and leopards.
“Quick!” panted Pylea, no longer calm.
Ned got up and ran, as he had never done before, through the hall, and up the long stairway that led to freedom.
“Run on for your lives, and look not back; we will follow,” cried Pylea, as she ranged her warriors in front of the stairs.
Up they went, one after the other, as fast as they could scramble, those thousands of steps. Exhausted at last, they reached the chamber of the pythons.
Here they sank down breathless to wait on Pylea and her regiment.
Not a sound could be heard from below. Had the brave girls remained there to face their infuriated queen? For the second time in their lives our heroes felt themselves to be mean cowards. The first time had been when they killed the baby gorilla.
“We can never leave these brave girls in the lurch like this, lads. We must return and save them, or die with them,” cried Ned, in sharp tones of agony.
Gripping his revolver, and followed by his men, he rushed with frantic steps down the stairs.
At the fourth landing he stopped suddenly. There before him leaned against the wall the friend of Cocoeni, with the blood dripping through her fingers as she pressed her hand against her side.
“Come no further,” she gasped faintly. “I only am left alive.”
“What!” cried Ned, starting back in dismay. “Are they all slain? Is Pylea also dead?”
Cocoeni by this time had reached forward, and was holding the dying girl in his arms, the hot tears running down his cheeks.
“All,” replied the girl. “I was sent forward to close the wall at the first stair. Before I reached it they were cut down. I saw Pylea fall even as I received this wound, but I had strength enough to close the stone door and creep up the stairs thus far.”
Her head sank as she uttered the last words against the breast of Cocoeni.
“Bring her up to the hall, Cocoeni,” said Ned, brokenly.
Not a dry eye was amongst them.
Cocoeni carried her up as gently as he could, but before they reached the sculptured hall, she was almost gone.
As he laid her down, she opened her eyes and smiled wanly. Then she whispered so faintly that they had to bend close to hear the feeble accents.
“They cannot open the door I closed, for hours. You have time to escape. Destroy the stairs at the top and you are safe.”
Her military trained mind was still planning, even although the life-blood was nearly drained from her heart. Another long pause, and then she opened her lips and her eyes for the last time.
“Cocoeni, you are only a man, after all, for you are weeping just as ours do when they are hurt. Kiss me, as you did two nights ago in the garden, for which I rebuked you then, but I am now as weak and foolish as you are.”
Cocoeni pressed his warm lips to her cold ones. When he removed them her lips remained apart. She was dead.
Chapter Thirty Four.The Return.“It is a wonderful story, boys. With those stones and bric-à-brac to support it, I am the last man in the world to cast doubts upon its veracity. I wish, however, that you had brought with you that quarter cohort of young amazons; we could do with them now in Rhodesia. However, go on and finish your yarn. What did you do with this poor girl?”Dr Jim had received our heroes at Bulawayo.At present they were on their way from the capital of Rhodesia to Mafeking with a train-load of native allies. Other laden trains were following in their track.Much had happened during their absence from the field of progress, as their captain informed them. The Transvaal Government only, like the kingdom of Karnadama, stood still.The suzerainty dispute had swallowed up many mouths, while Kruger, with his usual policy of aggressive arrogance and false professions, had lain like a great tortoise in the way, pushing its head out, and drawing it back again before it could be chopped off.He was making a move at last. Emboldened by the quiet deportment of Britain, he considered that the hour had arrived when he could show his head plainly, and walk on as he wanted.Crafty and timid although he was, Kruger had not been idle inside his shell. He had watched the political troubles that threatened his enemy, until now he considered their hands too full with outside affairs to be able to send much help to South Africa.It was a fixed belief with Kruger and his countrymen that England was in the same position that the Roman Empire had been when her legions were recalled from Albion. He knew how her power was envied by the other great nations, and how isolated she stood facing the world. He had intrigued with those ill-wishers until he considered himself sure of support.Only blind hatred moved him now. To break the power of this abhorred race, he was prepared to sacrifice the Republic and make his countrymen serfs, so that he might be allowed to have a life-post as governor, and see the Uitlanders crushed.“You have just come in time to take a hand in clearing the board, if you are not afraid to venture once more into Krugerland,” Dr Jim had told them when he met them.“We have sure intelligence that he intends to abrogate the Convention of London, and declare the absolute independence of the South African Republic on the tenth of this month. We have a copy of his intended ultimatum. He will allow the Uitlanders only twenty-four hours to decide whether they will declare themselves as enemies to their native land, or else be driven from the country, or imprisoned, with their property confiscated. A general massacre is clearly intended of all who dare resist.“It is now the third of October, so that we have seven days before us to prepare for the old murderer. We have not been idle any more than Kruger has, and this time we have played his own game, the hiding one. From Fourteen Streams to the Portuguese border on the north we have the Transvaal environed and practically hemmed in; from Fourteen Streams to Usuta they are also isolated, although they do not know it; the natives of Swazi and Gaza lands are ready to rise at the signal, and pour across the border; a fleet of warships protects Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, and Durban, so that the tactics of Mr Schreiner are so far defeated.“We have hundreds of volunteers on their way from Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. They are bringing arms and ammunition enough for all purposes. They will land at Durban and Cape Town in a few weeks at latest. Yes; I think we are nearly ready this time for the tortoise when he puts out his head, without having to trouble our mother for too much help, except those who man her fleet.”“And what can we do?” asked our heroes. “Command us, for we are ready.”“Well, I want you, Romer, to take a message into Johannesburg, and wait there till the fun begins.”“Yes,” replied Ned.“You must have some kind of disguise. I see you have grown a crop of down on your cheeks. I think you might sacrifice that, and you’ll make as smashing a young woman as one of your amazons.”Ned laughed, and said he was willing to change his sex for the time.“All right,” replied the doctor. “We’ll put the dressmaker of Mafeking on to you and your chums, and send you in to cajole the Boers. You, Raybold, must go to Pretoria. And you, Weldon, to Bloemfontein. I shall want Cocoeni and his fellows along with me.“There must be no hesitation this time amongst the Uitlanders. On the midnight of the eleventh they must rise to a man, and hold the different towns until the outside forces join you. If all goes well, as I cannot see how it can miss, take possession of the trains and telegraph offices, so as to let no message go out or enter the land. Our part of the game must be finished before the world can hear about its opening, and this rotten Republic will then be a thing of the past. We intend to hold the kopjes this campaign, and force these skunks into the open; also to avoid bloodshed as much as possible, only the victory must be on our side—and complete.”Dr Jim gave our heroes a great many other details and instructions on the journey down. He had been training and moving men to different parts for the past seven months in anticipation of this event, as settlers and their servants, as unostentatiously as he could manage it. While Kruger had been busy coquetting with foreign powers, and buying the latest improvement in weapons, Cecil Rhodes had been quietly stocking and populating the lands adjacent to the Transvaal.“By the way, Romer, I have some personal news for you, which might have interested you more deeply than it is likely to do now that you have made your own fortune.”“Yes?” asked Ned, curiously.“Mr Rhodes has been home, and looking into your affairs. He always finds time to attend to the interests of those he takes in hand, with all his other big concerns.”“And what has he discovered about me?”“That your father first, and afterwards you, trusted as scoundrelly a thief as was ever transported, to manage your fortune.”“Ah!”“Yes; this Jabez Raymond, the solicitor, has robbed your late father and you systematically for many years, forging papers and creating mortgages wholesale. Mr Rhodes knew your father and the position he held during his life, so he set ruthlessly to work and unveiled the sanctimonious scoundrel. He is at present doing a seven years’ stretch at Dartmoor for his delinquencies, while your property is being looked after by a respectable agent. You are at present the possessor of a comfortable fifteen hundred per annum and a fine estate in Devon, free of all incumbrances. This, however, is a flea-bite to what you will have when these stones are sold.”“Do you think they will realise much?”“Two or three hundred thousand pounds at the least, I should say.”“But by rights they belong to our employer, Mr Cecil Rhodes.”“He will be content with a share in the mine you have discovered, if it ever gets into the market. These were presents given to you, therefore they are undoubtedly your own property,” said the doctor.“And our followers.”“Nonsense! These Kaffirs were your servants. Besides, so much money would ruin them. Divide the stones between you three, for they are undoubtedly your property. As for the idols and cups, you can lend a few of them for our Salisbury Museum. Now finish your yarn.”Dr Jim leaned back on the cushion, smoking his pipe, while Ned resumed his story. As he told the tale, the train ran smoothly over that country which so lately had been an unexplored wilderness.“We had no time to mourn long over the poor young amazon who had fallen a victim to friendship. We knew that our pursuers would spare no efforts to reach us as soon as they could do so.“Therefore, satisfied that she, Rhae, was no more, we opened one of the mummy-cases, and, taking out the original lodger, we placed her inside instead. We wrapped her up in the outer linen of the mummy, after reading the service over her, and replaced the lid of the sarcophagus. Properly, I suppose, she should have been embalmed, for, according to her religion, her soul was in jeopardy by her being entombed in this fashion. But I dare say she’ll find her body again at the resurrection day quite as easily as any of her countrywomen will find their more carefully preserved earthly shells.“This done we started up the stairs, carrying the mummy with us. We did this so as not to horrify the Karnadamains too much with our sacrilege. We reached the top all right; then, remembering the dying advice of Rhae about breaking down the steps, I took back with me a good charge of gunpowder and dynamite, and, placing this in a wide crevice about a couple of dozen steps from the top, I ran up a train of gunpowder to the hall above.“I had hardly finished this operation when we heard them coming. We could hear their shouts and the clashing of their armour as they filled the chamber below and crowded up the stairs. At once I fired the train, and bolted as hard as I could spin to the outer door of the hall.“I had only taken about a dozen leaps when the explosion took place. Into the vast hall the smoke and dust flew from the smaller room, accompanied by the crushing and tumbling of the blasted slabs.“As soon as the sounds ceased and the smoke cleared, we ventured back to look at the damage done. We had demolished not only the stairs, but torn great masses out of the walls of the room as well. Where the entrance to the stairs had been now lay several tons of broken masonry; the passage was completely blocked up.“We listened, but heard no sounds from below; then, satisfied that we were at last safe, we left the large painted hall.“Outside we went on the walls and looked over. There a vast crowd of chariots were standing, with a number of amazon guards. They saw us, and several bent their bows, but we could afford to laugh at this display, as the arrows only reached a short distance up the cliffs.“We at once hurried away, however, for suddenly a thought occurred to me that there might be some other way up, and we had no desire to be captured.“Another thing made us not linger in that deserted citadel. We had plenty of ammunition and wealth, etc., but we had very little provisions, and only about one bag full of water.“Fortunately we were going down the hill, and knew exactly how long we should take before we reached the Rhodes fountain. But for all that, we were nearly dead from thirst before we reached it.“Those awful bashikonay ants were in our minds also, all down that hot and parching defile. If we should meet them here, there was no hope for us. Luckily we did not, nor did we see any of them again.“The stream was still running as clearly as ever. We felt happy when we reached it, even although we had not half a meal each left out of our scanty stock.“Nor did we taste anything after that until we were a full day’s journey from the mountain. Then we killed a couple of lions, and had to satisfy our appetites on them until we got once more amongst the game.“Here we were all right. We stayed three weeks on the plains, hunting and drying meat, and otherwise preparing ourselves for the dismal forest. We had not lost a man since starting, and for this we all rejoiced; but in the return through the forest we were not quite so fortunate, and I am sorry to have to report the loss of ten, whom we had to bury there.“One day we ran right into a camp of those active little nomads, who surrounded us and gave us battle. How many they were we could not tell, as they dodged us amongst the trees and brushwood.“There must have been thousands, for although we shot about fifty of them and kept the rest at bay, yet we suffered from them night and day afterwards. Not until we were clear of the forest were we able to shake them off.“They were dreadful and revengeful pests; nor were we ever sure when we might be pierced with one of their poisoned arrows.“Three of our boys went down during the first conflict, and after that the rest of the ten died from the effects of the poison, one after the other. They had been touched in vital parts, or else neglected to look after their wounds at the time.“I got one arrow in the ankle, but my boot so far protected me, that my wound was better in a week. Cocoeni was wounded in the arm, and suffered dreadfully for three weeks. The others who were hit managed to suck the poison out quickly and wash the wounds with disinfectants, so that they managed to escape.“None of us had fever, however, coming back. The constant excitement we were kept in by these dwarfish, light-coloured savages, with the quick marches we took, must have saved us from that evil.“After the forest was over, the rest of our journey was only a matter of time. You may judge of our astonishment, however, when one day we saw the corrugated iron roof of a railway station where some months before we had passed through a country peopled only by natives. You cannot, however, realise our delight when amongst those who came to welcome us we beheld you—the hero of South Africa.”“I was as delighted to see you, my lads, and so will Mr Rhodes, when he lands in Cape Town and gets my telegram announcing your safe return. Let me congratulate you on your remarkable success. You have more than answered our expectations, and I am proud of your achievements.”“That repays us tenfold for all we have gone through,” answered our heroes, with beaming faces and exultant hearts.
“It is a wonderful story, boys. With those stones and bric-à-brac to support it, I am the last man in the world to cast doubts upon its veracity. I wish, however, that you had brought with you that quarter cohort of young amazons; we could do with them now in Rhodesia. However, go on and finish your yarn. What did you do with this poor girl?”
Dr Jim had received our heroes at Bulawayo.
At present they were on their way from the capital of Rhodesia to Mafeking with a train-load of native allies. Other laden trains were following in their track.
Much had happened during their absence from the field of progress, as their captain informed them. The Transvaal Government only, like the kingdom of Karnadama, stood still.
The suzerainty dispute had swallowed up many mouths, while Kruger, with his usual policy of aggressive arrogance and false professions, had lain like a great tortoise in the way, pushing its head out, and drawing it back again before it could be chopped off.
He was making a move at last. Emboldened by the quiet deportment of Britain, he considered that the hour had arrived when he could show his head plainly, and walk on as he wanted.
Crafty and timid although he was, Kruger had not been idle inside his shell. He had watched the political troubles that threatened his enemy, until now he considered their hands too full with outside affairs to be able to send much help to South Africa.
It was a fixed belief with Kruger and his countrymen that England was in the same position that the Roman Empire had been when her legions were recalled from Albion. He knew how her power was envied by the other great nations, and how isolated she stood facing the world. He had intrigued with those ill-wishers until he considered himself sure of support.
Only blind hatred moved him now. To break the power of this abhorred race, he was prepared to sacrifice the Republic and make his countrymen serfs, so that he might be allowed to have a life-post as governor, and see the Uitlanders crushed.
“You have just come in time to take a hand in clearing the board, if you are not afraid to venture once more into Krugerland,” Dr Jim had told them when he met them.
“We have sure intelligence that he intends to abrogate the Convention of London, and declare the absolute independence of the South African Republic on the tenth of this month. We have a copy of his intended ultimatum. He will allow the Uitlanders only twenty-four hours to decide whether they will declare themselves as enemies to their native land, or else be driven from the country, or imprisoned, with their property confiscated. A general massacre is clearly intended of all who dare resist.
“It is now the third of October, so that we have seven days before us to prepare for the old murderer. We have not been idle any more than Kruger has, and this time we have played his own game, the hiding one. From Fourteen Streams to the Portuguese border on the north we have the Transvaal environed and practically hemmed in; from Fourteen Streams to Usuta they are also isolated, although they do not know it; the natives of Swazi and Gaza lands are ready to rise at the signal, and pour across the border; a fleet of warships protects Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, and Durban, so that the tactics of Mr Schreiner are so far defeated.
“We have hundreds of volunteers on their way from Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. They are bringing arms and ammunition enough for all purposes. They will land at Durban and Cape Town in a few weeks at latest. Yes; I think we are nearly ready this time for the tortoise when he puts out his head, without having to trouble our mother for too much help, except those who man her fleet.”
“And what can we do?” asked our heroes. “Command us, for we are ready.”
“Well, I want you, Romer, to take a message into Johannesburg, and wait there till the fun begins.”
“Yes,” replied Ned.
“You must have some kind of disguise. I see you have grown a crop of down on your cheeks. I think you might sacrifice that, and you’ll make as smashing a young woman as one of your amazons.”
Ned laughed, and said he was willing to change his sex for the time.
“All right,” replied the doctor. “We’ll put the dressmaker of Mafeking on to you and your chums, and send you in to cajole the Boers. You, Raybold, must go to Pretoria. And you, Weldon, to Bloemfontein. I shall want Cocoeni and his fellows along with me.
“There must be no hesitation this time amongst the Uitlanders. On the midnight of the eleventh they must rise to a man, and hold the different towns until the outside forces join you. If all goes well, as I cannot see how it can miss, take possession of the trains and telegraph offices, so as to let no message go out or enter the land. Our part of the game must be finished before the world can hear about its opening, and this rotten Republic will then be a thing of the past. We intend to hold the kopjes this campaign, and force these skunks into the open; also to avoid bloodshed as much as possible, only the victory must be on our side—and complete.”
Dr Jim gave our heroes a great many other details and instructions on the journey down. He had been training and moving men to different parts for the past seven months in anticipation of this event, as settlers and their servants, as unostentatiously as he could manage it. While Kruger had been busy coquetting with foreign powers, and buying the latest improvement in weapons, Cecil Rhodes had been quietly stocking and populating the lands adjacent to the Transvaal.
“By the way, Romer, I have some personal news for you, which might have interested you more deeply than it is likely to do now that you have made your own fortune.”
“Yes?” asked Ned, curiously.
“Mr Rhodes has been home, and looking into your affairs. He always finds time to attend to the interests of those he takes in hand, with all his other big concerns.”
“And what has he discovered about me?”
“That your father first, and afterwards you, trusted as scoundrelly a thief as was ever transported, to manage your fortune.”
“Ah!”
“Yes; this Jabez Raymond, the solicitor, has robbed your late father and you systematically for many years, forging papers and creating mortgages wholesale. Mr Rhodes knew your father and the position he held during his life, so he set ruthlessly to work and unveiled the sanctimonious scoundrel. He is at present doing a seven years’ stretch at Dartmoor for his delinquencies, while your property is being looked after by a respectable agent. You are at present the possessor of a comfortable fifteen hundred per annum and a fine estate in Devon, free of all incumbrances. This, however, is a flea-bite to what you will have when these stones are sold.”
“Do you think they will realise much?”
“Two or three hundred thousand pounds at the least, I should say.”
“But by rights they belong to our employer, Mr Cecil Rhodes.”
“He will be content with a share in the mine you have discovered, if it ever gets into the market. These were presents given to you, therefore they are undoubtedly your own property,” said the doctor.
“And our followers.”
“Nonsense! These Kaffirs were your servants. Besides, so much money would ruin them. Divide the stones between you three, for they are undoubtedly your property. As for the idols and cups, you can lend a few of them for our Salisbury Museum. Now finish your yarn.”
Dr Jim leaned back on the cushion, smoking his pipe, while Ned resumed his story. As he told the tale, the train ran smoothly over that country which so lately had been an unexplored wilderness.
“We had no time to mourn long over the poor young amazon who had fallen a victim to friendship. We knew that our pursuers would spare no efforts to reach us as soon as they could do so.
“Therefore, satisfied that she, Rhae, was no more, we opened one of the mummy-cases, and, taking out the original lodger, we placed her inside instead. We wrapped her up in the outer linen of the mummy, after reading the service over her, and replaced the lid of the sarcophagus. Properly, I suppose, she should have been embalmed, for, according to her religion, her soul was in jeopardy by her being entombed in this fashion. But I dare say she’ll find her body again at the resurrection day quite as easily as any of her countrywomen will find their more carefully preserved earthly shells.
“This done we started up the stairs, carrying the mummy with us. We did this so as not to horrify the Karnadamains too much with our sacrilege. We reached the top all right; then, remembering the dying advice of Rhae about breaking down the steps, I took back with me a good charge of gunpowder and dynamite, and, placing this in a wide crevice about a couple of dozen steps from the top, I ran up a train of gunpowder to the hall above.
“I had hardly finished this operation when we heard them coming. We could hear their shouts and the clashing of their armour as they filled the chamber below and crowded up the stairs. At once I fired the train, and bolted as hard as I could spin to the outer door of the hall.
“I had only taken about a dozen leaps when the explosion took place. Into the vast hall the smoke and dust flew from the smaller room, accompanied by the crushing and tumbling of the blasted slabs.
“As soon as the sounds ceased and the smoke cleared, we ventured back to look at the damage done. We had demolished not only the stairs, but torn great masses out of the walls of the room as well. Where the entrance to the stairs had been now lay several tons of broken masonry; the passage was completely blocked up.
“We listened, but heard no sounds from below; then, satisfied that we were at last safe, we left the large painted hall.
“Outside we went on the walls and looked over. There a vast crowd of chariots were standing, with a number of amazon guards. They saw us, and several bent their bows, but we could afford to laugh at this display, as the arrows only reached a short distance up the cliffs.
“We at once hurried away, however, for suddenly a thought occurred to me that there might be some other way up, and we had no desire to be captured.
“Another thing made us not linger in that deserted citadel. We had plenty of ammunition and wealth, etc., but we had very little provisions, and only about one bag full of water.
“Fortunately we were going down the hill, and knew exactly how long we should take before we reached the Rhodes fountain. But for all that, we were nearly dead from thirst before we reached it.
“Those awful bashikonay ants were in our minds also, all down that hot and parching defile. If we should meet them here, there was no hope for us. Luckily we did not, nor did we see any of them again.
“The stream was still running as clearly as ever. We felt happy when we reached it, even although we had not half a meal each left out of our scanty stock.
“Nor did we taste anything after that until we were a full day’s journey from the mountain. Then we killed a couple of lions, and had to satisfy our appetites on them until we got once more amongst the game.
“Here we were all right. We stayed three weeks on the plains, hunting and drying meat, and otherwise preparing ourselves for the dismal forest. We had not lost a man since starting, and for this we all rejoiced; but in the return through the forest we were not quite so fortunate, and I am sorry to have to report the loss of ten, whom we had to bury there.
“One day we ran right into a camp of those active little nomads, who surrounded us and gave us battle. How many they were we could not tell, as they dodged us amongst the trees and brushwood.
“There must have been thousands, for although we shot about fifty of them and kept the rest at bay, yet we suffered from them night and day afterwards. Not until we were clear of the forest were we able to shake them off.
“They were dreadful and revengeful pests; nor were we ever sure when we might be pierced with one of their poisoned arrows.
“Three of our boys went down during the first conflict, and after that the rest of the ten died from the effects of the poison, one after the other. They had been touched in vital parts, or else neglected to look after their wounds at the time.
“I got one arrow in the ankle, but my boot so far protected me, that my wound was better in a week. Cocoeni was wounded in the arm, and suffered dreadfully for three weeks. The others who were hit managed to suck the poison out quickly and wash the wounds with disinfectants, so that they managed to escape.
“None of us had fever, however, coming back. The constant excitement we were kept in by these dwarfish, light-coloured savages, with the quick marches we took, must have saved us from that evil.
“After the forest was over, the rest of our journey was only a matter of time. You may judge of our astonishment, however, when one day we saw the corrugated iron roof of a railway station where some months before we had passed through a country peopled only by natives. You cannot, however, realise our delight when amongst those who came to welcome us we beheld you—the hero of South Africa.”
“I was as delighted to see you, my lads, and so will Mr Rhodes, when he lands in Cape Town and gets my telegram announcing your safe return. Let me congratulate you on your remarkable success. You have more than answered our expectations, and I am proud of your achievements.”
“That repays us tenfold for all we have gone through,” answered our heroes, with beaming faces and exultant hearts.
Chapter Thirty Five.“To your Tents, O Israel!”At Mafeking our heroes received their final instructions, and were metamorphosed into three large-boned, amazonian young women, more awe-inspiring than beautiful to look upon. They were costumed in a homely fashion, as they were acting the character of domestic servants. Under this disguise they passed scrutiny and were not suspected by their fellow-passengers. Tall women are by no means a novelty nowadays, nor are awkward and masculine women, since bicycles and feminine athletics are the vogue. Indeed, to find a gentle, soft-voiced, graceful, and retiring lady traveller is now the exception rather than the rule.Therefore, when our heroes forgot their acting and took big leaps in and out of carriage doors, or crossed their legs and their arms, it did not strike any one as peculiar behaviour. Women of this generation do all that men were at one time only privileged to do. They raise their dresses and plant their feet on the cushioned seats opposite them, and do all sorts of things that were at one time supposed to be most indelicate. Our heroes, being well-bred, gentlemanly young fellows, conducted themselves a great deal more decorously than the majority of nineteenth-century ladies would have behaved. Indeed, their native politeness made them appear singularly superior servant-girls.They left their treasures with Dr Jim to bank for them at Mafeking, and went on together as far as Bloemfontein, in the Orange Free State.They had changed trains at De Aar, and again at Tuur Berg for the Boer line.At Bloemfontein the first of their partings took place, where Fred went off.Ned and Clarence felt a bit melancholy when they said good-bye to their faithful and long-tried chum. They reckoned that some fighting had to be done before they were re-united, if ever they were. If it could have been managed they would have liked to do the fighting in company, yet as it could not be so, they bore the parting bravely.As the pair crossed the border at Viljoen’s Drift, and saw the train boarded by the hateful Boers, they felt the old rage again possess them, which had so long been almost forgotten. These arrogant, uncouth bullies, who treated male and female with the same rough brutality, made them clench their teeth and draw their brows together until they looked very forbidding females indeed.But the officials were wonderfully pleasant towards them, considering their unfriendly demeanour. They admired muscle and bone like theirs, and said audibly that they would be fine vrows some day, when they got fatter. They were passed on much more easily than they expected. Once Ned had to correct an impertinent German, who tried to make himself agreeable in the fashion some cads have with unprotected females. Ned promptly knocked the ruffian down and kicked him under the seat. Then he leaned back calmly and gazed out of the window, until he suddenly recollected that he should have called the guard instead. He did this at once as soon as he remembered his sex, and had the man removed in a very dejected and dilapidated condition.This German did not recover his presence of mind until he reached Johannesburg. Then, when he saw Ned on the platform, he ran panic-stricken out of the station, vowing that these Englishwomen were demons, and that it would be a long time before he wasted his attentions on another of this ungrateful nation.“Good-bye, Clara,” said Ned, as he stood with his bonnet-box and bag on the platform. “Take care of yourself, dear, and don’t go falling in love with a Boer.”“Don’t be afraid, Edwina darling. I’ll go for the cruel wretches if they try to persecute me, as you did with that nasty German.”“Dort’s all right, meme leetle pigeon,” shouted a bearded burgher, showing his big face near. “You just wait till you are asked, then you vil be von fine old woman.”“Don’t mind the rude fellow, Clara,” cried Ned, warningly. But Clarence was too quick; with a back-handed slap he sent the Boer staggering backwards a dozen paces.“Couldn’t hold my hand back, Eddy dear. Englishwomen aren’t used to these compliments, you know.”“Be careful,” said Ned. “Remember our positions.” The burgher took his blow, however, without resentment. Several of his countrymen were laughing at him, therefore he slunk away quietly.“Good-bye, and trusting we may meet soon.”Ned watched the train start with watering eyes, then he stalked out of the station and straight to the Three Ace Club.As he passed through the streets he noticed that things appeared much quieter than when he was there before. The police did not interfere so much with the citizens, nor were the armed Boers so aggressive. It seemed as if a more tolerant spirit was ruling their behaviour.Knowing what he did, Ned was not at all deceived by these false signs of amiability. When the Boer is meditating some extra treachery he is always the most amiable. It is only part of his crafty and deceitful nature. He likes to lull his victim into a trusting condition, so that he may have him at a disadvantage. He likes to play like a cat with his prey, and surprise him suddenly.Ned knew that Kruger had given orders for this extra tolerance, so that the citizens might be lulled into security, and that his thunderbolt might fall the more startlingly upon their devoted heads. This was only in keeping with his malicious, torture-loving, and savage nature. These smiling, hard-faced men who looked so grimly indulgent on the unarmed citizens whom they were deluding, were inwardly thinking gloatingly on the coming massacre.He saw them clinking glasses in the bars with their unconscious victims, and laughing loudly at their jokes, while their revolvers stuck out behind—the revolvers that they intended using shortly on the jokers. Knowing what he did, Ned hated those double-faced wretches with more intensity. They were less tolerable in their sullen and insulting state than in their surly humour.Once he almost betrayed himself by the start he gave. He had passed Stephanus Groblaar with his broken nose, standing with some exchange men at the door of a hotel.Stephanus saw him also, and winked leeringly at him as he passed. Stephanus was a modern city-bred Boer, therefore of the advanced school, who laughed at religion and morality. With these added vices he retained all the other evil instincts of his race, so that he was utterly graceless.Ned passed him swiftly with eyes cast down. He glanced over his shoulder after he had got a little distance, and gave a sigh of relief, when he saw Stephanus leering on a couple of ladies who were passing. The supposed servant had only attracted him momentarily. He had failed to recognise his nose-breaker.Ned felt savagely glad that this vindictive foe was in the city. He trusted he would stay in Johannesburg till the night of the tenth, for he wanted to have it out with him.When he reached the club it was almost empty, but the manager recognised him and took him upstairs to a bedroom. Here he had a wash, and some lunch brought to him. Then he lay down and rested for a few hours.He was wakened by some one shaking him, and when he opened his eyes he saw his old friend, Philip Martin, by the bedside. Ned started up and shook hands.“Well, my fine young woman, so you have got back.”Ned laughed, and told his message, which the other listened to with sparkling eyes.“We have been ready and waiting for this message for months past. So Kruger is going to make the grand move at last? He will get a mighty surprise, instead of giving us one, as he intends.”He rubbed his hands gleefully.“I for one am heart-sick of all this long suspense and inaction. I shall welcome the hour with the greatest delight. Only there will be some bloodletting before the affair is settled.”“I don’t mind that,” answered Ned. “Before I arrived in Johannesburg I did not know what hatred or revenge meant. It was Kruger and his Boers who planted these passions in my heart on my first visit. During my absence the plants did not thrive much. Now that I have returned, however, the Transvaal air seems to have revived them suddenly.”“Yes,” said Philip Martin. “Hatred, envy, deceit, revenge, greed, and gracelessness are plants that grow well and quickly in the South African Republican garden. They are fine Dutch bulbs, and take kindly to the Transvaal air. Since you have given me the news of this crowning scheme of perfidy on the part of the crafty and senseless tyrant Kruger, I also feel as if I don’t mind shedding some gore if I can only help to put him in his proper place—the felon’s cell. Lately he has been playing one of his favourite games with us, which to those in the ‘know’ means ‘spoof’ eventually. He has been acting the part of ‘Codlin’ as the only real friend of the Uitlander—the kindly old humourist of Pretoria, the simple-minded farmer chief.”“Yes; he tried to make traitors and spies of us in that way,” remarked Ned.“Just so. He has been talking about conciliation and the blessedness of unity amongst brethren. Every Sunday of late he has occupied the Dopper pulpit, and his orations have been noted for their breadth and mildness. The police wink at small offenders where before they pounced upon them rigidly. A general tide of indulgence and generosity appears to be setting in towards us in every direction. There are rumours that the franchise and full burgher rights will be proclaimed on the tenth. This the Volksraad have already formally passed, with certain conditions which are to be told us by the president himself on that momentous day.”“Yes,” replied Ned, grimly; “the conditions you might have suspected all along, knowing Kruger’s tactics of old. He seems to be an animal of instinct and habit. Like the dog, he always turns round the regulation number of times. He never varies in his movements, and never changes.”“You are right, Romer; he does not. He will humour us up to the last moment, and then give us our option—to become traitor burghers and rebels to our queen, or else be shot down ruthlessly. There will be no mistake about the shooting if we decline, therefore we must take time by the forelock, and anticipate the kindly intentions of Oom Paul. What are you going to do meanwhile?”“I shall stick to my present disguise, and live most of my time in the kitchen,” continued Ned. “I can also do any little messages you may want about the city.”“Yes, that will be best. I’ll tell you how you may also serve us, if you can play your part safely.”“In what way?”“Get a sweetheart in the barracks if you can, and we may, with your help, be able to surprise them on the eventful night, without having to dynamite them. It may be a great saving of life on both sides.”“It is a low game you ask me to play, Philip; but, as the Jesuits say, ‘the end justifies the means.’ I’ll try it on.”For the next few days all went quietly in Johannesburg. Those outsiders who were not in the secret were happy that their trouble had blown over, and that better times were now approaching. The Three Ace club-men went about their business, and pretended to be satisfied, as the ignorant were. The armed Boers behaved like brothers.The past sins of Oom Paul appeared to be condoned. Every one praised him now as the kindly old patriarch of Pretoria, who was at present hard at work growing a pair of angel’s wings.Ned had succeeded in fascinating a big German Zarp, and spent a portion of each day in his company. Ned took the Teuton in preference to a Dutchman, as he had not any repugnance to this nation, yet it was a sacrifice to be amiable even to him.On the ninth of the month he had two letters, one from Fred, who called himself Fanny, and the other from Clarence. They had arranged on terms by which they would be understood by each other, that might be read without suspicion by any one.Fred wrote—“Dear Edwina,—“When I reached my situation I found that my place was already filled up, and that I was not wanted. I intend, therefore, to come to Johannesburg, and be near you and Clara. I’d like to see the shops of Pretoria, as I hear they are grand affairs. Crowds are going from here, so I expect there will be a city full presently.“Your loving cousin,—“Fanny.”Between the lines Ned read—“The Orange Free State will join with the Transvaal in the coming struggle. The Uitlanders here are all prepared, and have efficient leaders. Volunteers are coming in to help you in great numbers. I am also coming to take a hand.”Clarence wrote—“Dear Edwina,—“This is such a pretty place, and I am most comfortable in my situation. I trust you are the same, I have found a sweetheart, after all, amongst the Boers, such a nice, useful, frank fellow. He took me to the Dopper Kirk on Sunday to hear the president preach. What a noble old gentleman he is, to be sure! So full of Christian charity and fatherly sentiment. I fairly fell in love with him, as you will, I am sure, when you see him. My sweetheart is his footman, so that I have been introduced to the household, and can find my way about. I have a plan how to manage something, and have already quite a host of friends here and am doing well. Are you coming up to see me when Fanny comes? Do so if you can, and I’ll get Johann to show us over the private garden of the dear old president. A lady friend of mine is writing this for me, as I have hurt my right hand.“Your loving friend,—“Clara.”Ned interpreted this note as follows:—“Game all right. Have got the old humbug Kruger under my eye, and have a plan how to make him my prisoner when the time comes. Friends here ready for emergencies. If you can come up and help, do so.”That same afternoon Fred arrived, and the two took the night train to Pretoria, having forwarded a wire for “Clara” to meet them.Once more our heroes entered the abode of Kruger, ushered this time by a back entrance under the guidance of the friendly footman Johann.They spent the night together and studied their plans. When Clarence revealed his scheme they admitted that it might be done. If he could capture Kruger, it would be a big feather in his cap.“Oom Paul is not the man to be taken by force alone,” said Clarence. “He is game enough to put a pistol to his own head rather than yield. Now that Fred is here, my plan is that one of us shall offer to change clothes with him when he is hemmed in, and take him unawares somehow. We’ll trust to chance for the how, when the time comes.”Then it was all duly arranged, and they prepared themselves for the morrow.It was a hot day in Pretoria, and the town was crammed with visitors. Church Square was blocked with people, and every other street was filled almost to suffocation.At the hour appointed the president and his wife drove up, surrounded by a close line of guards. He took his place on the platform that had been raised above the crowd outside the Government buildings. He was greeted by thunders of applause and a salvo from the forts; then, as he rose, breathless silence succeeded the noise.He began by reading over the resolutions and decrees of the Volksraad with respect to the Uitlanders. The reforms were granted even more completely than the Uitlanders had hoped. There were clauses, however, to each of these generous concessions which, to those who knew what the termination would be, crippled and nullified the most important. But the general audience was not in a critical mood. It roared itself hoarse with wild applause.While this shouting was going on, the burly president stood grinning upon the crowd like an amiable gorilla. Then, when silence was once more restored, his expression suddenly altered. His cheeks became puffed, and his eyes sunk back beneath his heavy brows, while his big ears stood out. Then with a thunderous growl, like an angry beast, he read the declaration of independence first, and the defiance to England, and finished his oration in his harshest accent.“To your tents, and consider whether you will be with us or against us in this holy struggle for independence. My ultimatum is already on its way to this verdomde government, that would deprive us of our rights. In twenty hours from this, every subject of England will be our enemy, be imprisoned, and shot if we think fit, or expelled from our country and their property confiscated. To your tents and consider, for your fate is in your own hands.”These words the grim president thundered out to the dismayed Uitlanders; then he turned abruptly and left the scene as he had come, protected by his armed guard.For a moment stupefaction held the crowd silent, then a deep growl went up from the masses who were being dispersed by the Zarps.At this instant Ned Romer felt a touch on his arm, and, looking round, he saw Philip Martin at his side.“This ultimatum has changed our plans,” he whispered, as he drew the three friends out of the crowd. “The English Government will now decide the question, and we must do nothing inside the Transvaal to disturb their plans. Our orders are now to clear out before this ultimatum expires, and give Oom Paul no excuse for his next step.”Philip Martin was gloomy, and the faces of our heroes also fell considerably.“And are we to do nothing, Philip, after all our preparations?” asked Ned, in a disappointed tone.“Nothing inside the Transvaal. Our work will be outside, and there will be lots to do there, you take my word. We must follow the example of the Jews, and skedaddle if we can, before the lines are closed. Johannesburg must be left for the present, until we can come back with the British army. Tomorrow Natal and Cape Colony will be invaded, and then England can no longer hold back. I am off to join Baden-Powell, at Mafeking. Dr Jim has gone to Ladysmith, and you three fellows are to proceed to Kimberley, where you will find Mr Cecil Rhodes. It is a bit disappointing, I will allow; but this is going to be a bigger and a more complete affair than we could have accomplished, therefore we must be content to leave it to the proper hands to clear the board.”Philip Martin shook hands with them, and walked quickly away to warn others of his own party, while our heroes prepared for their exodus.
At Mafeking our heroes received their final instructions, and were metamorphosed into three large-boned, amazonian young women, more awe-inspiring than beautiful to look upon. They were costumed in a homely fashion, as they were acting the character of domestic servants. Under this disguise they passed scrutiny and were not suspected by their fellow-passengers. Tall women are by no means a novelty nowadays, nor are awkward and masculine women, since bicycles and feminine athletics are the vogue. Indeed, to find a gentle, soft-voiced, graceful, and retiring lady traveller is now the exception rather than the rule.
Therefore, when our heroes forgot their acting and took big leaps in and out of carriage doors, or crossed their legs and their arms, it did not strike any one as peculiar behaviour. Women of this generation do all that men were at one time only privileged to do. They raise their dresses and plant their feet on the cushioned seats opposite them, and do all sorts of things that were at one time supposed to be most indelicate. Our heroes, being well-bred, gentlemanly young fellows, conducted themselves a great deal more decorously than the majority of nineteenth-century ladies would have behaved. Indeed, their native politeness made them appear singularly superior servant-girls.
They left their treasures with Dr Jim to bank for them at Mafeking, and went on together as far as Bloemfontein, in the Orange Free State.
They had changed trains at De Aar, and again at Tuur Berg for the Boer line.
At Bloemfontein the first of their partings took place, where Fred went off.
Ned and Clarence felt a bit melancholy when they said good-bye to their faithful and long-tried chum. They reckoned that some fighting had to be done before they were re-united, if ever they were. If it could have been managed they would have liked to do the fighting in company, yet as it could not be so, they bore the parting bravely.
As the pair crossed the border at Viljoen’s Drift, and saw the train boarded by the hateful Boers, they felt the old rage again possess them, which had so long been almost forgotten. These arrogant, uncouth bullies, who treated male and female with the same rough brutality, made them clench their teeth and draw their brows together until they looked very forbidding females indeed.
But the officials were wonderfully pleasant towards them, considering their unfriendly demeanour. They admired muscle and bone like theirs, and said audibly that they would be fine vrows some day, when they got fatter. They were passed on much more easily than they expected. Once Ned had to correct an impertinent German, who tried to make himself agreeable in the fashion some cads have with unprotected females. Ned promptly knocked the ruffian down and kicked him under the seat. Then he leaned back calmly and gazed out of the window, until he suddenly recollected that he should have called the guard instead. He did this at once as soon as he remembered his sex, and had the man removed in a very dejected and dilapidated condition.
This German did not recover his presence of mind until he reached Johannesburg. Then, when he saw Ned on the platform, he ran panic-stricken out of the station, vowing that these Englishwomen were demons, and that it would be a long time before he wasted his attentions on another of this ungrateful nation.
“Good-bye, Clara,” said Ned, as he stood with his bonnet-box and bag on the platform. “Take care of yourself, dear, and don’t go falling in love with a Boer.”
“Don’t be afraid, Edwina darling. I’ll go for the cruel wretches if they try to persecute me, as you did with that nasty German.”
“Dort’s all right, meme leetle pigeon,” shouted a bearded burgher, showing his big face near. “You just wait till you are asked, then you vil be von fine old woman.”
“Don’t mind the rude fellow, Clara,” cried Ned, warningly. But Clarence was too quick; with a back-handed slap he sent the Boer staggering backwards a dozen paces.
“Couldn’t hold my hand back, Eddy dear. Englishwomen aren’t used to these compliments, you know.”
“Be careful,” said Ned. “Remember our positions.” The burgher took his blow, however, without resentment. Several of his countrymen were laughing at him, therefore he slunk away quietly.
“Good-bye, and trusting we may meet soon.”
Ned watched the train start with watering eyes, then he stalked out of the station and straight to the Three Ace Club.
As he passed through the streets he noticed that things appeared much quieter than when he was there before. The police did not interfere so much with the citizens, nor were the armed Boers so aggressive. It seemed as if a more tolerant spirit was ruling their behaviour.
Knowing what he did, Ned was not at all deceived by these false signs of amiability. When the Boer is meditating some extra treachery he is always the most amiable. It is only part of his crafty and deceitful nature. He likes to lull his victim into a trusting condition, so that he may have him at a disadvantage. He likes to play like a cat with his prey, and surprise him suddenly.
Ned knew that Kruger had given orders for this extra tolerance, so that the citizens might be lulled into security, and that his thunderbolt might fall the more startlingly upon their devoted heads. This was only in keeping with his malicious, torture-loving, and savage nature. These smiling, hard-faced men who looked so grimly indulgent on the unarmed citizens whom they were deluding, were inwardly thinking gloatingly on the coming massacre.
He saw them clinking glasses in the bars with their unconscious victims, and laughing loudly at their jokes, while their revolvers stuck out behind—the revolvers that they intended using shortly on the jokers. Knowing what he did, Ned hated those double-faced wretches with more intensity. They were less tolerable in their sullen and insulting state than in their surly humour.
Once he almost betrayed himself by the start he gave. He had passed Stephanus Groblaar with his broken nose, standing with some exchange men at the door of a hotel.
Stephanus saw him also, and winked leeringly at him as he passed. Stephanus was a modern city-bred Boer, therefore of the advanced school, who laughed at religion and morality. With these added vices he retained all the other evil instincts of his race, so that he was utterly graceless.
Ned passed him swiftly with eyes cast down. He glanced over his shoulder after he had got a little distance, and gave a sigh of relief, when he saw Stephanus leering on a couple of ladies who were passing. The supposed servant had only attracted him momentarily. He had failed to recognise his nose-breaker.
Ned felt savagely glad that this vindictive foe was in the city. He trusted he would stay in Johannesburg till the night of the tenth, for he wanted to have it out with him.
When he reached the club it was almost empty, but the manager recognised him and took him upstairs to a bedroom. Here he had a wash, and some lunch brought to him. Then he lay down and rested for a few hours.
He was wakened by some one shaking him, and when he opened his eyes he saw his old friend, Philip Martin, by the bedside. Ned started up and shook hands.
“Well, my fine young woman, so you have got back.”
Ned laughed, and told his message, which the other listened to with sparkling eyes.
“We have been ready and waiting for this message for months past. So Kruger is going to make the grand move at last? He will get a mighty surprise, instead of giving us one, as he intends.”
He rubbed his hands gleefully.
“I for one am heart-sick of all this long suspense and inaction. I shall welcome the hour with the greatest delight. Only there will be some bloodletting before the affair is settled.”
“I don’t mind that,” answered Ned. “Before I arrived in Johannesburg I did not know what hatred or revenge meant. It was Kruger and his Boers who planted these passions in my heart on my first visit. During my absence the plants did not thrive much. Now that I have returned, however, the Transvaal air seems to have revived them suddenly.”
“Yes,” said Philip Martin. “Hatred, envy, deceit, revenge, greed, and gracelessness are plants that grow well and quickly in the South African Republican garden. They are fine Dutch bulbs, and take kindly to the Transvaal air. Since you have given me the news of this crowning scheme of perfidy on the part of the crafty and senseless tyrant Kruger, I also feel as if I don’t mind shedding some gore if I can only help to put him in his proper place—the felon’s cell. Lately he has been playing one of his favourite games with us, which to those in the ‘know’ means ‘spoof’ eventually. He has been acting the part of ‘Codlin’ as the only real friend of the Uitlander—the kindly old humourist of Pretoria, the simple-minded farmer chief.”
“Yes; he tried to make traitors and spies of us in that way,” remarked Ned.
“Just so. He has been talking about conciliation and the blessedness of unity amongst brethren. Every Sunday of late he has occupied the Dopper pulpit, and his orations have been noted for their breadth and mildness. The police wink at small offenders where before they pounced upon them rigidly. A general tide of indulgence and generosity appears to be setting in towards us in every direction. There are rumours that the franchise and full burgher rights will be proclaimed on the tenth. This the Volksraad have already formally passed, with certain conditions which are to be told us by the president himself on that momentous day.”
“Yes,” replied Ned, grimly; “the conditions you might have suspected all along, knowing Kruger’s tactics of old. He seems to be an animal of instinct and habit. Like the dog, he always turns round the regulation number of times. He never varies in his movements, and never changes.”
“You are right, Romer; he does not. He will humour us up to the last moment, and then give us our option—to become traitor burghers and rebels to our queen, or else be shot down ruthlessly. There will be no mistake about the shooting if we decline, therefore we must take time by the forelock, and anticipate the kindly intentions of Oom Paul. What are you going to do meanwhile?”
“I shall stick to my present disguise, and live most of my time in the kitchen,” continued Ned. “I can also do any little messages you may want about the city.”
“Yes, that will be best. I’ll tell you how you may also serve us, if you can play your part safely.”
“In what way?”
“Get a sweetheart in the barracks if you can, and we may, with your help, be able to surprise them on the eventful night, without having to dynamite them. It may be a great saving of life on both sides.”
“It is a low game you ask me to play, Philip; but, as the Jesuits say, ‘the end justifies the means.’ I’ll try it on.”
For the next few days all went quietly in Johannesburg. Those outsiders who were not in the secret were happy that their trouble had blown over, and that better times were now approaching. The Three Ace club-men went about their business, and pretended to be satisfied, as the ignorant were. The armed Boers behaved like brothers.
The past sins of Oom Paul appeared to be condoned. Every one praised him now as the kindly old patriarch of Pretoria, who was at present hard at work growing a pair of angel’s wings.
Ned had succeeded in fascinating a big German Zarp, and spent a portion of each day in his company. Ned took the Teuton in preference to a Dutchman, as he had not any repugnance to this nation, yet it was a sacrifice to be amiable even to him.
On the ninth of the month he had two letters, one from Fred, who called himself Fanny, and the other from Clarence. They had arranged on terms by which they would be understood by each other, that might be read without suspicion by any one.
Fred wrote—
“Dear Edwina,—
“When I reached my situation I found that my place was already filled up, and that I was not wanted. I intend, therefore, to come to Johannesburg, and be near you and Clara. I’d like to see the shops of Pretoria, as I hear they are grand affairs. Crowds are going from here, so I expect there will be a city full presently.
“Your loving cousin,—
“Fanny.”
Between the lines Ned read—
“The Orange Free State will join with the Transvaal in the coming struggle. The Uitlanders here are all prepared, and have efficient leaders. Volunteers are coming in to help you in great numbers. I am also coming to take a hand.”
Clarence wrote—
“Dear Edwina,—
“This is such a pretty place, and I am most comfortable in my situation. I trust you are the same, I have found a sweetheart, after all, amongst the Boers, such a nice, useful, frank fellow. He took me to the Dopper Kirk on Sunday to hear the president preach. What a noble old gentleman he is, to be sure! So full of Christian charity and fatherly sentiment. I fairly fell in love with him, as you will, I am sure, when you see him. My sweetheart is his footman, so that I have been introduced to the household, and can find my way about. I have a plan how to manage something, and have already quite a host of friends here and am doing well. Are you coming up to see me when Fanny comes? Do so if you can, and I’ll get Johann to show us over the private garden of the dear old president. A lady friend of mine is writing this for me, as I have hurt my right hand.
“Your loving friend,—
“Clara.”
Ned interpreted this note as follows:—
“Game all right. Have got the old humbug Kruger under my eye, and have a plan how to make him my prisoner when the time comes. Friends here ready for emergencies. If you can come up and help, do so.”
That same afternoon Fred arrived, and the two took the night train to Pretoria, having forwarded a wire for “Clara” to meet them.
Once more our heroes entered the abode of Kruger, ushered this time by a back entrance under the guidance of the friendly footman Johann.
They spent the night together and studied their plans. When Clarence revealed his scheme they admitted that it might be done. If he could capture Kruger, it would be a big feather in his cap.
“Oom Paul is not the man to be taken by force alone,” said Clarence. “He is game enough to put a pistol to his own head rather than yield. Now that Fred is here, my plan is that one of us shall offer to change clothes with him when he is hemmed in, and take him unawares somehow. We’ll trust to chance for the how, when the time comes.”
Then it was all duly arranged, and they prepared themselves for the morrow.
It was a hot day in Pretoria, and the town was crammed with visitors. Church Square was blocked with people, and every other street was filled almost to suffocation.
At the hour appointed the president and his wife drove up, surrounded by a close line of guards. He took his place on the platform that had been raised above the crowd outside the Government buildings. He was greeted by thunders of applause and a salvo from the forts; then, as he rose, breathless silence succeeded the noise.
He began by reading over the resolutions and decrees of the Volksraad with respect to the Uitlanders. The reforms were granted even more completely than the Uitlanders had hoped. There were clauses, however, to each of these generous concessions which, to those who knew what the termination would be, crippled and nullified the most important. But the general audience was not in a critical mood. It roared itself hoarse with wild applause.
While this shouting was going on, the burly president stood grinning upon the crowd like an amiable gorilla. Then, when silence was once more restored, his expression suddenly altered. His cheeks became puffed, and his eyes sunk back beneath his heavy brows, while his big ears stood out. Then with a thunderous growl, like an angry beast, he read the declaration of independence first, and the defiance to England, and finished his oration in his harshest accent.
“To your tents, and consider whether you will be with us or against us in this holy struggle for independence. My ultimatum is already on its way to this verdomde government, that would deprive us of our rights. In twenty hours from this, every subject of England will be our enemy, be imprisoned, and shot if we think fit, or expelled from our country and their property confiscated. To your tents and consider, for your fate is in your own hands.”
These words the grim president thundered out to the dismayed Uitlanders; then he turned abruptly and left the scene as he had come, protected by his armed guard.
For a moment stupefaction held the crowd silent, then a deep growl went up from the masses who were being dispersed by the Zarps.
At this instant Ned Romer felt a touch on his arm, and, looking round, he saw Philip Martin at his side.
“This ultimatum has changed our plans,” he whispered, as he drew the three friends out of the crowd. “The English Government will now decide the question, and we must do nothing inside the Transvaal to disturb their plans. Our orders are now to clear out before this ultimatum expires, and give Oom Paul no excuse for his next step.”
Philip Martin was gloomy, and the faces of our heroes also fell considerably.
“And are we to do nothing, Philip, after all our preparations?” asked Ned, in a disappointed tone.
“Nothing inside the Transvaal. Our work will be outside, and there will be lots to do there, you take my word. We must follow the example of the Jews, and skedaddle if we can, before the lines are closed. Johannesburg must be left for the present, until we can come back with the British army. Tomorrow Natal and Cape Colony will be invaded, and then England can no longer hold back. I am off to join Baden-Powell, at Mafeking. Dr Jim has gone to Ladysmith, and you three fellows are to proceed to Kimberley, where you will find Mr Cecil Rhodes. It is a bit disappointing, I will allow; but this is going to be a bigger and a more complete affair than we could have accomplished, therefore we must be content to leave it to the proper hands to clear the board.”
Philip Martin shook hands with them, and walked quickly away to warn others of his own party, while our heroes prepared for their exodus.