Off to the Wilds Part 20

"To be sure," said Mr Rogers. "There are silurus in it."

"Are there though, sor?" said Dinny. "And there's the big rocks up behind it, where the p.r.i.c.kly trees wid red flowers and no leaves at all grow."

"Yes, I know the place," said Mr Rogers impatiently; "go on."

"Well, sor, I sits meself down comfortable, baits my hook wid a nice bit of fresh mate as any dacent fish would like to have, and then I says to meself, `Dinny,' I says, `while ye're waiting to hook a nice fish for the masther's dinner, I'd have jist a whiff o' tibakky if I were you.'

`Ye're right and I will,' I says; and I outs wid my pipe, fills it, and was just going to light up, when _splash_! There was a great big stone thrown in the wather.

"`Ah, be aisy, Masther Jack,' I says, for I knew it was you."

"Why, I was away with my father," cried Jack.

"To be sure ye were, Masther Jack, dear; but don't ye see I thought it was your thrick; and bang comes another big stone down be me side.

"`I'll tell the masther if ye don't lave off,' I says. `That's you, Masther d.i.c.k, as throwed that.'

"Splash comes another, and then I recklected as ye'd both be far away, and that it must be one of them dirthy little varmints, Coffee or Chicory. So I lays down me rod and line, as nice and sthrait a rod as ye'd cut out of the woods anywhere, ye know, sor, and I picked up my bit of stick ready for them.

"`I'll wait till ye throw again, me beauties,' I says; and just as I says it to meself, a big stone hits me on the back, and another goes in just by me line.

"`Now ye shall have it, ye wicked little villains,' I says; and jumping up I was going to run at 'em, when, murther! there was about a dozen of the craytures coming down from the rocks, shouting and chattering, and throwing stones.

"`Will ye be off?' says one, `ye've no business fishing there widout lave.'"

"How do you know he said that?" said d.i.c.k dryly.

"Sure an' what else would he say, Masther d.i.c.k, dear? An' ah, ye never saw such ugly little divils, widout a bit of nose to their dirty faces, and a grin as if they were all teeth.

"`Sure I was only catching a fish for the masther's dinner, gintlemen,'

I says, when, murther! if they didn't run at me like mad, and if I hadn't walked away I belave they'd have killed me. As it was one cowardly villain instead of hitting me dacently on the head wid his stick like a Christian, comes at me and bites me in the leg."

"Let's look, Dinny," said d.i.c.k, for Mr Rogers listened but did not speak.

"Oh ye can look, Masther d.i.c.k. He tuk a pace out of me throusis, and he'd have tuk a pace out of me leg as well, if I hadn't expostulated wid him on the head wid me shtick. Sure I was obliged to run then or they'd have torn me to pieces; and it's my belafe they've been using the fishing-line ever since."

"And so you've had an interview with the natives, have you, Dinny?" said Mr Rogers dryly.

"Ah, I wouldn't call them natives, sor," said Dinny.

"What then, baboons?" said Mr Rogers.

"Sure, sur, I don't know the name of the thribe, but they're a dirthy-looking little lot, and as hairy as if they never shaved themselves a bit."

"Why he's been pelted by monkeys," cried d.i.c.k, indignantly; and Jack burst out laughing.

"Faix, Masther d.i.c.k, dear, they behaved like monkeys more than men, and they're an ugly little thribe of natives; and if I'd had a gun I'd have given some of them the headache, that I would."

"Ah, here's the General," cried Mr Rogers, as the great Zulu came striding up with a bok over his shoulder.

As he entered the little camp he threw down the bok, and began to skin it, looking about for Coffee and Chicory.

"Where are the boys?" he said at last.

"Sure they haven't come back," said Dinny; "and I hope they never will,"

he added, taking the bok to cut up and cook a portion, for Dinny's leg was very sore and bleeding from a severe bite, and his temper was also a little more sore from the doubt with which his story had been received.

The Zulu darted a fierce glance at him, but he did not speak. He only walked to the waggon, where Mr Rogers was examining some of the specimens he had killed, and said simply,--

"May I take the rifle, boss, and go and find my boys?"

"Yes, of course," exclaimed Mr Rogers.

"I'll go with you, General," cried Jack eagerly.

"But you are too tired," said his father.

"Oh, no," cried Jack. "I don't mind. I'll go with the General."

The Zulu darted a grateful look at Jack, and the latter took his rifle and bullet cartridges, starting off directly after in the way that the boys had been seen to go.

Jack began chatting to the Zulu as they went along, but after a few remarks he noticed that the General was very quiet and reserved, while when he glanced at his countenance it looked so strange that Jack felt startled, and began to think of how awkward his position would be if the Zulu were to prove unfaithful, and turn upon him.

But the next minute he was rea.s.sured, and found that it was anxiety upon the General's part about his boys.

"I am afraid, Boss Jack," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "It frightens me to think.

They may be killed."

"Oh, no," cried Jack hopefully. "They have only gone farther away, and have not had time to return."

The Zulu shook his head, but he glanced eagerly at the speaker as if to silently ask him if he really felt like that.

"No," he said softly; "one of them would be back by now, I am afraid."

Jack tried again, but it was of no avail; and the Zulu having struck the boys' trail, he had to be left to follow it without interruption, and this he did, all through the heat of that glowing afternoon.

Several times poor Jack felt as if he would faint, but his spirit kept him up, and at last they came upon Chicory, sitting down by a little pool of water with his a.s.segai beside him, bathing his bleeding feet.

The Zulu uttered a low sigh of satisfaction as he saw one of his boys, and Chicory jumped up, and seizing his a.s.segai, ran to meet them.

"My brother; has he got back?" he asked in his own tongue.

"No; I came to find you both. Where is he?" said the General sternly.

"Lost," said Chicory disconsolately. "We got no birds and would not go back without, and we went on and parted. He is lost."

"Lost!" said the Zulu scornfully; "my boy lost! Go find him. Watch the spoor. He must be found."

Poor Chicory turned without a word, and in obedience to his father's order he went off in the direction where he and his brother had accidentally parted, and at last led them to a beautiful park-like tract of land. Forest-trees sprang up in every direction, for the most part draped with creepers; clumps of bushy growth, and cl.u.s.ters of p.r.i.c.kly succulent plants, grew on every side. It was in fact a very nature's garden, but though they searched in all directions through the lovely glades, golden with the rays of the scorching sun, there was no trace of poor Coffee; and after separating, when they met again from time to time poor worn out Chicory looked his despair.