Between Sun and Sand Part 8

Then the tread of a heavy man drew near, and Koos Bester entered the room.

"Well, Koos, my son, how do you feel this fine evening?"

"Fresh, thank you."

"Well, I don't know when I ever felt so happy. I don't know why I should" (here he thought he had been possibly injudicious in revealing his blissful condition to Koos) "after all the money I've been losing lately, and after the price I'm going to pay you for these cattle; but somehow I do."

Koos lit his pipe and smoked in silence. The Trek-Boer is seldom lively; in fact he is usually silent whenever he can possibly avoid speaking.

"Koos, have you heard that the old n.i.g.g.e.r who got Willem into that mess is here working for me, hired by my brother?"

"Ja, I heard so."

"Of course, I will give him the sack as soon as ever I can get another boy."

"Ja, I am glad to hear that."

"Koos, why don't you get him on the quiet and give him a good licking?"

"Ja, I should like to do that if you will not mind."

"Mind! No; I'll be only jolly glad if you will do it. But take him on the quiet, give him his dressing when there's no one about. Whatever you do, don't trust my brother; he makes quite a pal of him."

"Good, I'll make a plan. But when are we to start?"

"Let's see--this is Tuesday; supposing we get away on Friday. Say Friday morning at daylight."

"It'll be no use starting so early; we cannot get to my camp, round by Puffadder, in a day. It will be time enough to start after breakfast."

"But why do you want to go all that way round? Can't we go through the dunes?"

"No! you won't catch me going through the dunes this weather with mules.

I have four horses that could do it; I wouldn't take them there now for five pounds."

"All right, Koos; we'll go round by Puffadder and start after breakfast on Friday."

The vast group of sand-dunes beyond which Koos Bester lived lies like a red-hot spider across the north-eastern section of the Desert, with the legs extending princ.i.p.ally towards the south and south-west.

Rather, perhaps, is it like a menacing hand stretched forth by the giant Kalihari--that waterless waste of loose sand which extends northward indefinitely from just across the Orange River--to seize the southern extremity of the African Continent in a fiery grip. The river gorge cut the hand off at the wrist, else the eternal dribble might, in course of time, have overwhelmed all the western districts of the Cape Colony.

The dunes are, as a rule, only from ten to twenty feet in height, except in the central area where they are piled high about an abrupt, strange-looking hill which has a stratum of red stone encircling it like a belt. This hill is called "Bantom Berg," which means "belted mountain." The many mile-long fingers straggle over the Desert, gradually encroaching.

No one ever enters the dunes twice, except in case of the most urgent necessity. At every step the traveller sinks to below the ankles in the fine, light, scorching sand. It is sometimes practicable to cross the dune-tract in a light vehicle, if the weather happens to be cool and one's horses are in good condition. But crossing them is, however, never safe, for there is no water to be had within their repulsive bounds. The bones of many a lost wanderer lie there, covered by the sand streaming over the flat dune-top, under the lea of which he may have crept in the vain hope of getting shelter from the flame-hot wind from the north. In such a case the body would be buried deep, beyond the reach even of the jackals, in a very short time. If ever uncovered it would be found converted into a black, shrunken mummy, for the intense dryness of the sand is such that a body buried in it never decomposes; the moisture is rapidly drained out of it until nothing is left but a parchment bag of bones.

Max gave Nathan a month's notice of leaving next day. As, however, he had drawn his salary by the quarter, Nathan insisted on three months'

notice being given. In this Max had to acquiesce, but he did so with a very bad grace.

Up to Friday morning Koos Bester had no opportunity of carrying out his intention of giving Gert Gemsbok a thrashing on the quiet. By Thursday night he had quite given up the idea. His slow mind had gradually come to recognise that he had better leave the old Hottentot alone--this in spite of Nathan's daily promptings on the subject. The old man looked so frail and bent. Some unrecognised remnant of chivalry in the Boer's nature made him dimly see that for a man of his strength to attack one who would be as a child in his hands would be base and cowardly. But Willem, whom he had loved as more than a brother, had been done to death by this baboon-like creature. Then for a few minutes the face of Koos would darken with the desire for revenge. He began to long for the time of departure, so as to be away from the temptation to do the deed that he loathed and longed for the doing of at the same time.

Friday morning came, and after breakfast Nathan and Koos departed from Namies in the cart drawn by the six smart mules. The road led around the kopjes to the westward, so the cart was out of sight of the camps a few minutes after the start.

The distance to Koos Bester's camp would take two short days to accomplish, but could not possibly be accomplished in one. The dunes were avoided on this route by pa.s.sing over the point where the red-hot hand had been amputated and the stump frayed away by the winds of centuries. After travelling a mile or so they pa.s.sed over some ground where a lot of shallow gullies, which carried off the occasional thunderstorm drainage from the kopjes, intersected each other. A flock of sheep could be seen grazing a few hundred yards to the right of the road, amongst the gullies. Between them and the road could be seen the figure of a man sitting on a doubled-down tussock of "twa" gra.s.s.

Koos felt the blood rise to his brain, but he averted his eyes from the figure and sucked violently at his pipe. Nathan pulled at the reins, and the mules came to a standstill. Just then the man arose from the tussock and disappeared over the edge of one of the gullies.

"Koos, my son, there's your chance."

"Never mind; I'll let the old vagabond alone to-day. I haven't got a sjambok with me, and that whip of yours wouldn't hurt him enough. Drive on."

"Rot! man alive; let's have some sport. Give him a taste of those pretty little feet of yours. Go on, I'll see fair play."

Koos alighted from the cart and began adjusting a part of the harness which had got out of gear. Then he walked back and put his foot on the step preparatory to climbing in.

"What! ain't you going to give it to him? Well, you most likely won't have another chance; I've told Max to give him the sack as soon as ever he can get another boy, so he'll likely be gone by the time we return."

Koos stood with his foot resting on the step, still undecided.

"Never mind," he said, "I'll let him alone to-day."

"And poor Willem, who died in the tronk all through that chap. Koos, I'm ashamed of you; be a man and give him what for."

Koos no longer hesitated. The reference to Willem turned the scale; his good angel soared away from his side for ever. The blood arose in his veins until his face and neck became purple. He uttered a curse and walked off, at first with hesitation still apparent in his movements.

He was now eager to go, but his legs seemed reluctant to carry him. To harden his purpose he began to think of Willem's case; of how he had sworn to be revenged; of how a Boer, a man of his own blood, had been sent to herd with blacks at a convict station, and had there died miserably, all through the "thing" before him. At length his very bile seemed to stir with black rage, and he strode on with his hands and feet tingling for vengeance.

Gert Gemsbok watched over the edge of the gully the approach of Koos, and guessed the purpose of the Boer. Then he dropped back into the hollow behind him and ran down it as hard as he could in the hope of reaching some ground which he might tread on without leaving a spoor.

He had caught up the little dog so that it should not betray him by following.

He might have escaped from Koos were it not that the cart stood on higher ground, and thus Nathan caught sight of his crouching form pa.s.sing over an exposed spot. The Jew yelled to Koos that he was to trend to the left, and then indicated a small bush close to which he had caught sight of the fugitive. Koos, now thoroughly roused and thirsting madly for vengeance, started off at a run towards the bush Nathan had pointed out. In a few moments he nearly ran over the old Hottentot, who was hiding under an overhanging bank.

The sorry deed did not take long to accomplish. With his powerful hand Koos seized Gemsbok by the skinny arm and hurled him to the bottom of the gully. Not a word was spoken on either side. The old Hottentot was like a paper doll in the hands of the heavy, muscular Boer, and he fell with a thud upon the soft sand. Then Koos, beside himself with mad anger, leaped upon him like a tiger, stamped upon the shrunken body with his heavy feet, and kicked it until his toes, badly protected by the thin and supple-soled veldschoens, began to hurt him severely.

The pain brought Koos partly to himself. Casting one look upon the motionless, huddled body, he climbed out of the gully and began walking quickly back towards the cart. He found, however, that the great toe of his right foot caused him excruciating pain, so he could only limp slowly over the broken ground.

"h.e.l.lo, Koos; did the old man show fight and knock you about? What's up with your little hind paw? Why, you look as white as a blooming sheet."

Koos climbed into the cart and Nathan drove on. There was something in the expression of the Boer's face which taught the Jew that it would not be safe to take any liberties just then.

After a few minutes Nathan found that he could sustain his curiosity no longer--

"Come along, old man," he said coaxingly; "tell us all about it."

Koos did not reply. He was in great pain, and was wondering what the effect of the particular kick which hurt him so had been on the man whom he kicked. His toe began to press against the upper-leather, and he felt that it was dislocated.

The still, huddled figure lying in the sand at the bottom of the gully was as if photographed on the retina--it was literally so vividly before his mental vision that physical vision seemed to be suspended. And the pain in his toe! He longed to take off the veldschoen and ease the pressure, to examine the injury, regarding which he was consumed with a deadly curiosity, but he hated to attract Nathan's attention.

He moved the foot slightly and the agony almost made him shriek aloud.

A spasm of frantic terror gripped him by the heart-strings until he nearly swooned. Why, the man _must_ be dead. He thought of his own bulk, of his strength, and of how pa.s.sionately and recklessly he had leaped and stamped upon the nearly pa.s.sive body. The details of what had happened had seemed lost to him for a time; in all but the merest and flimsiest general outline he had forgotten what had occurred between his gripping Gemsbok by the arm and his changing his walk into a hobble as he returned to the cart. Now, under some strange psychological sympathetic ink the smallest details appeared in pitiless distinctness, and stood out before his shuddering soul in lurid relief.