Dead Man's Land Part 9

"Like you, eh?" said Mark.

"Get out! Don't chaff. Present company always excepted. I wasn't thinking about you. But I say, didn't he take it all in as innocent as could be about uncle setting him adrift out in the wilds?"

"Yes.--Well, father, how many bullocks have you bought?"

"Forty-eight, my boy. Fine ones."

"Forty-eight!" cried the boys, in a breath. "Twenty-four in a span."

"Precious long span, uncle," said Dean, laughing, as he stretched from thumb tip to little finger measuring along his arm.

"Yes, rather," said the doctor. "They are long spans; but we are obliged to provide against loss. Like to come and see them, boys?"

"Of course!" they cried, in a breath.

CHAPTER SIX.

HOW TO HANDLE A WHIP.

Sir James turned back with the doctor, and soon after the boys were intently examining the drove of nearly fifty beautiful, sleek, well-bred oxen in their kraal, where they were in charge of their drivers, one a big, bluff, manly-looking fellow, well bronzed by the sun, and with Englishman stamped upon every feature, forming a striking contrast to his companion, a flat-nosed, half-bred Hottentot, who grinned at them stupidly.

"We just want another look round, my lad," said the doctor.

"All right, sir," said the big driver, endorsing his appearance by his speech; and taking the lead, he showed the little party and expatiated upon the qualities of the leading and pole oxen, upon how sleek and well they looked, and gave to each its name, while the Hottentot driver, who confined himself to Dutch, helped to call up bullock after bullock, all of which answered sluggishly to their names.

Then the boys were made acquainted with the novelties, to them, of dissel-boom, trek-tow, and yokes.

"But I say," cried Mark, "you don't call that a whip, do you?" And he pointed to one that might have been used in Brobdingnag.

"Yes, sir; that's the whip," said the Englishman, laughing. "You see, one wants a long one to touch up an ox who may be the leader twelve bullocks' lengths away from where you are sitting on the box."

"Let's try," said Mark.

The man smiled as he took down and handed the gigantic thong.

"Mind what you are doing, sir," he said. "A waggon whip is rather an awkward thing, until you are used to it; but when you are you know it is a nice, neat, handy little tool. You see, it's a two-handed weapon."

"That's plain enough," said Dean, laughing. "Let's have a try after you, Mark."

"Yes," said his cousin, giving the whip a wave round, its heavy lash whistling through the air.

"Here, stop!" cried Sir James angrily. "What do you think you are doing? Salmon fishing? It's a good thing, doctor, that there's no hook at the end."

"Oh, I'm very sorry, father," said the boy, colouring.

"Very sorry, indeed! Why, you nearly cut my ear off. Here, doctor, we had better go."

"No, no, don't go, father. I won't try any more;" and Mark hastily handed the great whip back to the driver.

"Here, but I want to try," said Dean.

"Well, you are not going to try now," said his uncle, half irritably.

"You will have plenty of chances, both of you, when you have got a field to yourselves. You will be scaring the bullocks."

"All right, sir," said the big fellow, replacing the whip by the great tilted waggon. "I'll teach you how to handle it when we get out on the veldt. Like me to show you, perhaps, now?"

"No, no," said Sir James; "not while we are here."

"It's quite safe, sir," said the man good-humouredly. "I could give a flip to any one of the bullocks you like to point out without the thong coming near anybody."

"Oh, let him, please, father."

"Very well," said Sir James, rather grumpily. "Shall we stand farther off?"

"Oh, no, sir," replied the man.

"Let's pick out that one with the white nose," whispered Dean. "I don't believe he can hit it;" and he pointed to one fat beast that was standing almost alone blinking its eyes and ruminating over its cud.

"Yes; hit that one," said Mark.

The man seemed to give the long whip an easy wave in the air, and the point of the lash alighted on the bullock's smooth neck, making the animal start and toss its head; and then in response to a command which sounded like _Barrk_, it slowly sidled close up to the nearest of its fellows, and then went on chewing the cud again.

"Ay, ay, Jacob!" shouted the driver, and he uttered a few words in a patois that was probably a composition of Dutch and Hottentot, which made the little yellow flat-nosed driver come shambling up, grinning, to take the big whip pitched to him and go off to a distance of some five-and-twenty yards, where, after uttering a few incomprehensible cries which had the effect of making such of the bullocks as were crouching in the sand rise slowly to their feet and sidle up together, the strange looking driver gave the whip a wave or two where he stood, and began to crack it, at every _whish_ producing what sounded like a series of rifle shots, watching the English driver the while until he was told to desist.

"Bravo!" cried Mark, and Dean clapped his hands.

"I say, can you crack a whip like that?" cried Dean.

"Oh, yes, sir. Teach you too, if you like."

"Well, I do like," said the boy; "but when uncle isn't here."

When the interiors of the two great tilted waggons that were close at hand had been examined with some curiosity, as they were to be storehouses and dwelling-places combined, the little party went off in another direction, Mark eagerly enquiring what was to be their destination now.

"Oh, I was going to show you the little cobs the doctor has bought-- ponies, I suppose I ought to call them."

"What, has he got them already?" cried Mark.

"Oh, yes; it has been very short work," said the doctor. "The officer who has charge of the little garrison here introduced me to a dealer, and I think we have been very fortunate to meet a gentleman who was well acquainted with the ways of the settlers here, for he has given me some very good hints, and in addition promised to have a guide found who was hanging about the camp and is now waiting here after being up the country with a hunting party who left for Beira about a fortnight ago.

He is one of the Illakas, Sir James," continued the doctor, "and it seems that he has been expelled from his tribe for being friendly to the English."

"Quite a savage, then," said Sir James.

"Oh, yes; I suppose he is a pure-blooded black, and knows the country well. Let me see, we must turn down in this direction, I think. Yes-- pa.s.s that corrugated iron shed-like house--to be sure, that's it--and there's the man the ponies belong to."

He nodded in the direction of a little keen-looking man who appeared rather mushroom-like, thanks to the well-worn, broad-leafed felt hat he wore. He was leaning over a rough enclosure in which four ponies were browsing, and keenly watching the approaching party as he smoked.