The Settler and the Savage Part 12

Mrs Scholtz knew, and brought it from the kitchen.

It was a keen serviceable knife, with a viciously sharp point. Mrs Merton received it, coughed, and hurried out to the sheep-fold, followed by her accomplices.

To catch a sheep was not difficult, for the animals were all more or less tame and accustomed to gentle treatment by the females, but to hold it was quite another thing. Mrs Merton secured it by the head, Mrs Scholtz laid hold of the tail, and Mrs Brook fastened her fingers in the wool of its back. Each female individually was incapable of holding the animal, though a very small one had been purposely selected, but collectively they were more than a match for it. After a short struggle it was laid on its side, and its feet were somewhat imperfectly secured with a pocket-handkerchief.

"Now, ma'am," cried Mrs Scholtz, holding tight to the tail and shutting her eyes, "do be quick."

Mrs Merton, also shutting her eyes, struck feebly with the knife. The others, having likewise shut their eyes, waited a few seconds in a state of indescribable horror, and then opened them to find that the Spartan lady had missed her mark, and planted her weapon in the ground! So feeble, however, had been the stroke that it had barely penetrated an inch of the soil.

"Oh, Mrs Merton!" exclaimed Mrs Brook remonstratively.

Mrs Merton tried again more carefully, and hit the mark, but still without success.

"It _won't_ go in!" she gasped, as, on opening her eyes a second time, she found only a few drops of blood trickling from a mere scratch in the sheep's neck; "I--I _can't_ do it!"

At that moment the unfortunate animal suddenly freed its head from the Spartan matron's grasp. A sharp wriggle freed its tail and feet, and in another moment it burst away from its captors and made for a shallow pond formed by Edwin Brook for a colony of household ducks.

Roused to excessive indignation by the weakness and boastfulness of Mrs Merton, Mrs Scholtz sprang to her feet and gave chase. The others joined. Hunger, shame, determination, disappointment, combined to give them energy of purpose. The sheep rushed into the pond. Mrs Scholtz recklessly followed--up to the knees--caught it by the horns, and dragged it forth.

"Give me the knife!" she shouted.

Mrs Merton hurriedly obeyed, and the nurse, shutting her eyes, plunged it downwards with a wild hysterical shriek.

There was no mistake this time. Letting the animal go, she fled, red-handed, into the innermost recess of the cottage, followed by her horrified friends.

"Oh! what _have_ I done?" groaned Mrs Scholtz; burying her face in her hands.

Mrs Brook and the others--all shuddering--sought to soothe her, and in a short time they regained sufficient composure to permit of their returning to the victim, which they found lying dead upon the ground.

Having thus got over the terrible first step, the ladies hardened themselves to the subsequent processes, and these they also found more difficult than they had antic.i.p.ated. The skinning of a sheep they did not understand. Of the cutting up they were equally ignorant, and a terrible mess they made of the poor carca.s.s in their varied efforts. In despair Mrs Brook suggested to Mrs Scholtz, who was now the chief and acknowledged operator, that they had better cut it up without skinning, and singe off the wool and skin together; but on attempting this Mrs Scholtz found that she could not find the joints, and, being possessed of no saw, could not cut the bones; whereupon Mrs Merton suggested that she should cut out four slices from any part that would admit of being penetrated by a knife, and leave the rest of the operation to be performed by Dally on his return. This proposal was acted on. Four fat slices were cut from the flanks and carried by Gertie to the kitchen, where they were duly cooked, and afterwards eaten with more relish than might have been expected, considering the preliminaries to the feast.

This was one of those difficulties that did not occur to them again. It was a preventable difficulty, to be avoided in future by the exercise of forethought; but there were difficulties and troubles in store against which forethought was of little avail.

While they were yet in the enjoyment of the chops which had caused them so much mental and physical pain, they were alarmed by a sudden cry from Junkie. Looking round they saw that urchin on his knees holding on to the side of his home-made crib, and gazing in blank amazement at the hole in the wall which served for a window. And well might he gaze, for he saw the painted face of a black savage looking in at that window!

On beholding him Mrs Merton uttered a scream and Mrs Brook an exclamation. Mrs Scholtz and Gertie seemed bereft of power to move or cry.

Perhaps the Kafir took this for the British mode of welcoming a stranger. At all events, he left the window and entered by the door.

Being quite naked, with the exception of the partial covering afforded by a leopard-skin robe, his appearance was naturally alarming to females who had never before seen a native of South Africa in his war-paint.

They remained perfectly still, however, and quite silent, while he went through the cottage appropriating whatever things took his fancy. He was the native whom we have already introduced as having been met by George Dally, though of course the Brook household were not aware of this.

A few other savages entered the cottage soon after, and were about to follow the example of their chief and help themselves, but he sternly ordered them to quit, and they submissively obeyed.

When he had gone out, without having condescended to notice any of the household, Master Junkie gave vent to a long-suspended howl, and claimed the undivided attention of Mrs Scholtz, whose touching blandishments utterly failed in quieting him. The good nurse was unexpectedly aided, however, by the savage chief, who on repa.s.sing the window, looked in and made his black face supernaturally hideous by glaring at the refractory child. Junkie was petrified on the spot, and remained "good" till forgetfulness and sleep overpowered him.

Meanwhile Mrs Merton swooned into a chair--or appeared to do so--and Mrs Brook, recovering from her first alarm, went out with Gertie to see what the black marauders were about.

They were just in time to see the last tail of their small flock of sheep, and their still smaller herd of cattle, disappear into the jungle, driven by apparently a score of black, lithe, and naked devils, so ugly and unearthly did the Kafirs seem on this their first visit to the unfortunate settlers.

It was a peculiarly bitter trial to the Brooks, for the herd and flock just referred to had been acquired, after much bargaining, from a Dutch farmer only a few days before, and Edwin Brook was rather proud of his acquisition, seeing that few if any of the settlers had at that time become possessors of live stock to any great extent. It was, however, a salutary lesson, and the master of Mount Hope--so he had named his location--never again left his wife and family unguarded for a single hour during these first years of the infant colony.

CHAPTER NINE.

OFF TO THE HIGHLANDS AND BLACK SNAKES IN THE BUSH.

While the settlers of this section were thus scattering far and wide, in more or less numerous groups, over the fertile plains of Lower Albany, the Scotch party was slowly, laboriously, toiling on over hill and dale, jungle and plain, towards the highlands of the interior.

The country through which the long line of waggons pa.s.sed was as varied as can well be imagined, being one of the wildest and least inhabited tracts of the frontier districts. The features of the landscape changed continually from dark jungle to rich park-like scenery, embellished with graceful clumps of evergreens, and from that again to the sterility of savage mountains or parched and desert plains. Sometimes they plodded wearily over the karroo for twenty miles or more at a stretch without seeing a drop of water. At other times they came to a wretched mud hovel, the farm-house of a boer, near a permanent spring of water.

Again, they were entangled among the rugged, roadless gorges and precipices of a mountain range, through which no vehicle of European construction could have pa.s.sed without absolute demolition, and up parts of which the Cape-waggons were sometimes compelled to go by means of two teams,--that is, from twenty to thirty or more oxen,--being attached to each. At other times they had to descend and re-ascend the precipitous banks of rivers whose beds were sometimes quite dry and paved with mighty boulders.

"It's an unco' rough country," observed Sandy Black to Charlie Considine, as they stood watching the efforts of a double team to haul one of their waggons up a slope so rugged and steep that the mere attempt appeared absolute madness in their eyes.

Considine a.s.sented, but was too much interested in the process to indulge in further remark.

"Gin the rope brek," continued Sandy, "I wadna gie muckle for the waggon. It'll come rowin' an' stottin' doon the hill like a bairn's ba'."

"No fear of the rope," said Hans Marais, as he pa.s.sed at the moment to render a.s.sistance to Ruyter, Jemalee, b.o.o.by, and some others, who were shouting at the pitch of their voices, and plying the long waggon-whips, or the short sjamboks, with unmerciful vigour.

Hans was right. The powerful "trektow" stood the enormous strain, and the equally powerful waggon groaned and jolted up the stony steep until it had nearly gained the top, when an unfortunate drop of the right front wheel into a deep hollow, combined with an unlucky and simultaneous elevation of the left back wheel by a stone, turned the vehicle completely over on its side. The hoops of the tilt were broken, and much of the lading was deposited in a hollow beside the waggon, but a few of the lighter and smaller articles went hopping, or, according to Sandy Black, "stottin'" down the slope, and were smashed to atoms at the bottom.

Ruyter, b.o.o.by, and Jemalee turned towards Hans Marais with a shrinking action, as if they expected to feel the sjambok on their shoulders, for their own cruel master was wont on occasions of mischance such as this to visit his men with summary punishment; but Hans was a good specimen of another, and, we believe, much more numerous cla.s.s of Cape-Dutchmen.

After the first short frown of annoyance had pa.s.sed, he went actively to work, to set the example of unloading the waggon and repairing the damage, administering at the same time, however, a pretty sharp rebuke to the drivers for their carelessness in not taking better note of the form of the ground.

That night in talking over the incident with Ruyter, Considine ventured again to comment on the wrongs which the former endured, and the possibility of redress being obtained from the proper authorities.

"For I am told," he said, "that the laws of the colony do not now permit masters to lash and maltreat their slaves as they once did."

Ruyter, though by nature a good-humoured, easy-going fellow, was possessed of an unusually high spirit for one of his race, and could never listen to any reference to the wrongs of the Hottentots without a dark frown of indignation. In general he avoided the subject, but on the night in question either his wonted reticence had fled, or he felt disposed to confide in the kindly youth, from whom on the previous journey from Capetown he had experienced many marks of sympathy and good-will.

"There be no way to make tings better," he replied fiercely. "I knows noting 'bout your laws. Only knows dey don't work somehow. Allers de same wid _me_ anyhow, kick and cuff and lash w'en I's wrong--sometimes w'en I's right--and nebber git tanks for noting."

"But that is because your master is an unusually bad fellow," replied Considine. "Few Cape farmers are so bad as he. You have yourself had experience of Hans Marais, now, who is kind to every one."

"Ja, he is good master--an' so's him's fadder, an' all him's peepil--but what good dat doos to me!" returned the Hottentot gloomily. "It is true your laws do not allow us to be bought and sold like de slaves, but dat very ting makes de masters hate us and hurt us more dan de slaves."

This was to some extent true. At the time we write of, slavery, being still permitted in the British colonies, the Dutch, and other Cape colonists, possessed great numbers of negro slaves, whom it was their interest to treat well, as being valuable "property," and whom most of them probably did treat well, as a man will treat a useful horse or ox, though of course there were--as there always must be in the circ.u.mstances--many instances of cruelty, by pa.s.sionate and brutal owners. But the Hottentots, or original natives of the South African soil, having been declared unsaleable, and therefore not "property,"

were in many cases treated with greater degradation by their masters than the slaves, were made to work like them, but not cared for or fed like them, because not so valuable. At the same time, although not absolute slaves, the Hottentots were practically in a state of servitude, in which the freedom accorded to them by Government had, by one subterfuge or another, been rendered inoperative. Not long before this period the colonists possessed absolute power over the Hottentots, and although recent efforts had been made to legislate in their favour, their wrongs had only been mitigated,--by no means redressed. Masters were, it is true, held accountable by the law for the treatment of their Hottentots, but were rarely called to account; and the Hottentots knew too well, from sad experience, that to make a complaint would be in many cases worse than useless, as it would only rouse the ire of their masters and make them doubly severe.

"You say de Hottentots are not slaves, but you treat us all de same as slaves--anyhow, Jan Smit does."

"That is the sin of Jan Smit, not of the British law," replied Considine.

Ruyter's face grew darker as he rejoined fiercely, "What de use of your laws if dey won't work? Besides, what right hab de white scoundril to make slave at all--whether you call him slave or no call him slave.

Look at Jemalee!"

The Hottentot pointed with violent action to the Malay, who, with a calm and sad but dignified mien, stood listening to the small-talk of b.o.o.by, while the light of the camp-fire played fitfully on their swarthy features.