Dead Man's Land Part 75

"Well, boys, this is unfortunate," said Sir James, "for, as the doctor says, we wanted to keep on the best of terms with these people."

"I could not help it, father; I was obliged to do something. You don't think I ought to have let them do as they liked with us?"

"Most certainly not," said his father. "I think you both behaved very well; but it is unfortunate, all the same. One thing is evident--we have been too easy, and I am afraid they will take it for granted that we were afraid of them. The doctor would be most unwilling to make a move from here."

"Oh, yes," said that gentleman. "I looked forward to our making endless discoveries here and in the neighbourhood, and I must say again that it would be a thousand pities to give up."

"I agree with you," said Sir James, "and the boys don't want us to make a move."

"Oh, no!" they exclaimed, in a breath. "Well, it is very unlucky, and we shall be driven to give them a severe lesson."

"Well, you have, father," said Mark. "And it is very easy to drive them away, uncle."

"Yes," put in the doctor, "once or twice; but I am afraid we have come to the end of friendly feeling, and this cannot be resumed. There must be no more coming into the camp, Sir James."

"Certainly not. They must be taught to keep outside, without violence if we can manage it--if not, with."

During the next few days the blacks kept aloof, and it almost seemed as if they had been too much alarmed by the falling stones to come near.

"Yes," said the doctor, "they must have thought that we could start the old buildings to crumble about their ears, for they have been too much accustomed to the effects of rifles to be frightened by them so long as n.o.body falls. And I suppose if later on we are obliged to use small shot, those will only scare them for a time."

"Yes, it's a most unfortunate business, and I almost think that we had better go farther afield," said Sir James.

"And fare worse, father," said Mark.

"Perhaps," said his father, smiling. "But there, we will hold out for the present, and see what time brings forth."

"Perhaps it will be all for the best," said Mark. "If they had not been checked there's no knowing what they might have taken next."

CHAPTER FORTY.

IN THE NIGHT WATCH.

"It's of no use; I can't go to sleep," said Mark to himself, as he lay gazing out through the end of the waggon at the black darkness of the night.

It seemed hotter than ever, and he turned and turned again and again, with a strange, fidgety sensation that made him feel irritable to a degree, completely driving sleep away.

"What's the matter with me?" he said to himself. "Supper, I suppose.

That's what the doctor would say. But one must eat; and I felt so horribly hungry."

He turned over again and lay watching a gloriously bright planet--Venus or Jupiter, he did not know which; but it was gradually sinking in the west, and even that made him more wakeful.

"Wish I could get some water," he muttered; "but I should only be disturbing poor Dean if I moved. There," he half e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "my brain must have gone to sleep, though my body wouldn't. How absurd, when I knew all the time that Dean had the watch! Hope he won't go to sleep and let the blacks come and surprise us because he doesn't give the alarm. How badly things do happen! He could go to sleep, of course, and I can't. Why shouldn't we change places? Oh dear, how hot it is!

I should like to go down to the riverside and have a swim. Ugh!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "And some croc hunting for food would get hold of me by the leg and pull me down. Horrid idea! The blacks," he went on, as he dismissed the thought of the reptile--"oh, the blacks are peaceable enough now. They only wanted showing that we wouldn't stand any of their nonsense. They are just like children."

The boy turned upon his rough couch so as to avoid the bright beams of the setting planet, and five minutes later he turned back again, feeling that he must watch it as it went down, and he felt more wakeful than ever.

"It's of no use," he said to himself, at last, "I--can't--go--to sleep, and it's only waste of time."

Creeping cautiously out, he let himself drop to the earth, and then after standing listening for a few minutes to the breathing of the cattle and watching the dancing flames of the fire that was regularly kept up, he cautiously approached the ponies, speaking softly to them so that they might not be scared by the approach of a dark figure to the spot where they were tethered.

First one and then another whinnied softly and stretched out its muzzle to receive his caress.

"I do like horses," he said to himself. "When once they know you they are as friendly as dogs. But you ought to have heard me, Master Dean.

I think if I had had the watch I should have known if anyone had crept out of the waggon and come and spoken to the horses. I'll tell him so."

The boy went cautiously on past the first waggon, then by the kraal, looking eagerly before him the while but making out nothing.

"Taking a bit of a round, I suppose. The other side of the fire, perhaps," he said to himself.

Mark went slowly and silently on, pausing once to note that the bright planet, which seemed to grow larger and larger, was just dipping down behind the highest kopje near, and then he listened to a distant barking sound which he knew must proceed from a baboon prowling about, possibly on the watch for the approach of one of its greatest enemies--a leopard.

"Everything seems to have its enemy," thought the boy, "and the blacks are ours; but I don't think they will come near us any--"

Mark stopped short, a feeling of rage and bitterness running through him, for as he was walking slowly on, cautiously so as not to startle his cousin, he felt ready to choke with indignant rage.

"Oh, I wouldn't have thought he could have been so untrustworthy," he said to himself, for there, just before him, seated upon one of the many loose stones, his chin upon his breast, was his cousin, sleeping profoundly.

At this Mark's first idea was to awaken the overcome boy by s.n.a.t.c.hing his rifle from him and ordering him to go off to bed.

"And I will too," he said, half aloud, "and shame him in his disgrace."

He was in the act of stooping over to seize the rifle, but there was no rifle to seize.

"He has stood it up somewhere," thought the boy. "Oh, who could have believed it! And at a time like this when we might be surprised and speared before the alarm could have spread. I'll go and tell the--no, I won't. It shall be our secret; but I'll say words to him that shall make him too much ashamed ever to take the watch again. Oh, where has he stood that rifle?"

Mark was trying to penetrate the darkness as he stepped cautiously along, looking here and there for the missing weapon, when he felt as if a hand had been pressed upon his throat to check his breathing, for there, dimly-seen, standing pressed close up to the rock which ascended behind their camp, was the figure of an armed black, motionless as a statue, and with his spear, which looked somehow distorted, resting against his arm.

For a few moments the boy could not breathe, but his heart beat with a heavy throb against his breast, while his lips parted to utter a cry that should alarm the camp. But no sound escaped from him: the silence was broken by a deeply whispered, "Baas!"

"Ah-h-h-h-h! You, Mak!" sighed Mark; and the words, "How you startled me!" were ready for utterance, but they were not spoken.

"Him--him--sleep," whispered the black. "Mak watch.--Got gun."

As he spoke he raised Dean's rifle, which was resting upon the ground in company with the black's spear, and Mark caught at it eagerly.

"Baas watch too," said the black. "Pig gone see."

Mark raised the hand at liberty and patted their black friend upon the shoulder, asking himself the while what the man meant about the pigmy.

But he was too much occupied with the thoughts that he was arranging in his mind with respect to his cousin and the black's presence.

"Why, he must have come and found him asleep, and taken the rifle to keep watch for him. No, I won't wake him. We will stop here together till he comes to himself; and how it will bring his disgrace home to him!--Here, what's that?" he whispered, as he turned to catch Mak by the arm.

But as he did so he felt that the faint sound he heard could be nothing alarming, for the black stood silent and unmoved.

Mark realised directly, though, that he was listening with head bent forward, and he began to breathe hard as with a faint rustling sound his little black companion sprang to his side and whispered something.