The Settler and the Savage Part 26

"Ja," said Hans quietly; "you have reason to be thankful--yet there is more to wish for."

"What more?" asked Considine.

"That the whole world were as happy as yourself," said Hans, looking full at his friend with a bland smile.

"And so I do wish that," returned Considine with enthusiasm.

"Do you?" asked Hans, with a look of surprise.

"Of course I do; why do you doubt it?" asked his friend, with a perplexed look.

Hans did not reply, but continued to gaze at the mountain-range towards which the party was riding.

And, truly, it was a prospect which might well absorb the attention and admiration of men less capable of being affected by the beauties of nature than Hans Marais.

They were pa.s.sing through a verdant glen at the foot of the mountains, the air of which was perfumed with wild flowers, and filled with the garrulous music of paroquets and monkeys. In front lay the grand range of the Winterberg, with its coronet of rocks, its frowning steeps, its gra.s.sy slopes, and its skirts feathered over with straggling forest,-- all bathed in the rich warm glow of an African sunset.

"You have not answered me, Hans," said Considine, after a pause. "Why do you think I am indifferent to the world's happiness?"

"Because," replied the other, with an expression unusually serious on his countenance, "I do not see that you make any effort--beyond being good-natured and amiable, which you cannot help--to make the world better."

Considine looked at his friend with surprise, and replied, with a laugh--"Why, Hans, you are displaying a new phase of character. Your remark is undoubtedly true--so true indeed that, although I object to that commonplace retort,--`You're another,'--I cannot help pointing out that it applies equally to yourself."

"It is just because it applies equably to myself that I make it,"

rejoined Hans, with unaltered gravity. "You and I profess to be Christians, we both think that we are guided by Christian principles-- and doubtless, to some extent, we are, but what have we done for the cause that we call `good,' that is good? I speak for myself at all events--I have hitherto done nothing, absolutely nothing."

"My dear fellow," said Considine, with a sudden burst of candour, "I believe you are right, and I plead guilty; but then what can we do? We are not clergymen."

"Stephen Orpin is not a clergyman, yet see what _he_ does. It was seeing what that man does, and how he lives, that first set me a-thinking on this subject. He attends to his ordinary calling quite as well as any man of my acquaintance, and, I'll be bound, makes a good thing of it, but any man with half an eye can see that he makes it subservient to the great work of serving the Saviour, whom you and I profess to love. I have seen him suffer loss rather than work on the Lord's day. More than once I've seen him gain discredit for his so-called fanaticism. He is an earnest man, eagerly seeking an end which is _outside_ himself, therefore he is a happy man. To be eager in pursuit, is to be in a great degree happy, even when the pursuit is a trifling one; if it be a great and good one, the result must be greater happiness; if the pursuit has reference to things beyond this life, and ultimate success is hoped for in the next, it seems to me that _lasting_ as well as _highest_ happiness may thus be attained. Love of self, Charlie, is _not_ a bad motive, as some folk would falsely teach us.

The Almighty put love of self within us. It is only when love of self is a superlative affection that it is sinful, because idolatrous. When it is said that `love is the fulfilling of the law,' it is not love to G.o.d merely that is meant, I think, but love to Him supremely, and to all created things as well, self included, because if you can conceive of this pa.s.sion being our motive power, and fairly balanced in our b.r.e.a.s.t.s--G.o.d and all created beings and things occupying their right relative positions,--self, although dethroned, would not be ignored.

Depend on it, Charlie, there is something wrong _here_."

The young Dutchman smote himself heavily on his broad chest, and looked at his friend for a reply.

What that reply was we need not pause to say. These two young men ever since their first acquaintance had regarded each other with feelings akin to those of David and Jonathan, but they had not up to this time opened to each other those inner chambers of the soul, where the secret springs of life keep working continually in the dark, whether we regard them or not--working oftentimes harshly for want of the oil of human intercourse and sympathy. The floodgates were now opened, and the two friends began to discourse on things pertaining to the soul and the Saviour and the world to come, whereby they found that their appreciation and enjoyment of the good things even of this life was increased considerably. Subsequently they discovered the explanation of this increased power of enjoyment, in that Word which throws light on all things, where it is written that "G.o.dliness is profitable for the life that now is, as well as that which is to come."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

TREATS OF THE DELIGHTS, DANGERS, AND DISTRESSES OF THE WILDERNESS.

"Afar in the desert,"--far beyond the frontier settlements of the colony, far from the influences of civilisation, in the home of the wild beast and the savage, the explorers now ride under the blaze of the noontide sun.

They had pa.s.sed over mountain and dale into the burning plains of the karroo, and for many hours had travelled without water or shelter from the scorching heat. Lucas Van Dyk, who guided them, said he knew where water was to be got, but there was no possibility of reaching it before evening. This announcement was received in silence, for not a drop of the life-giving fluid had pa.s.sed the lips of man or beast since an early hour on the previous day, and their powers of endurance were being tried severely. The insupportable heat not only increased the thirst, but rendered the hunters less able to bear it. All round them the air quivered with the radiation from the glaring sand, and occasionally the _mirage_ appeared with its delicious prospects of relief, but as the Dutchmen knew the ground well, none were deceived by it, though all were tantalised. Compressing their lips, and urging their wearied cattle to the utmost, they pushed steadily on, no sound breaking the stillness of the desert save the creak of a waggon-wheel or the groan of an exhausted animal.

At last Charlie Considine sought to relieve his feelings by conversation.

"This is one of the unpleasant experiences of African travel."

Hans Marais, to whom the remark was made, replied "Ja," but as he added nothing more, and looked stern, Charlie relapsed into silence.

Ere long one of the weaker oxen fell. The party halted a few minutes, while the Hottentot drivers plied their cruel whips unmercifully, but in vain. One more merciful than the drivers was there--death came to release the poor animal. Immediately, as if by magic, vultures appeared in the burning sky. From the far-off horizon they came sailing by twos and threes, as if some invisible messenger, like death himself, had gone with lightning-speed to tell that a banquet awaited them.

No time was wasted; a brief word from the leader sufficed. The dying ox was released from the yoke that had galled it so long, and the party proceeded. Before they were a mile off the ox was dead, its eyes were out, its carca.s.s torn open, and the obscene birds were gorging themselves. Before night it was an empty skeleton covered with a dried hide! Not many hours would suffice to remove the hide and leave only the bleaching bones. Such remains are familiar objects on South African roadsides.

That evening, according to their leader's prophecy, water was reached.

It was a thick muddy pool, but it sufficed to relieve them all, and a night of comparative comfort followed a day of suffering.

Next morning, just after breakfast, a herd of springboks was observed, and several of the more eager of the party dashed off in pursuit. Among these was Considine, Hans, Andrew Rivers, and Jerry Goldboy. The two last were always first in the mad pursuit of game, and caused their placid Dutch friends no little anxiety by the sc.r.a.pes they frequently ran themselves into.

"Follow them, they'll get lost," said Van Dyk to a group of Hottentots.

Two of these, Slinger and Dikkop, obeyed the order.

The antelopes were on a distant sandhill in the plain. There were two groups of them. Riven and Jerry made for one of these. Becoming suddenly imbued with an idea worthy of a hunter, Jerry diverged to the right, intending to allow his companion to start the game, while he should lie in wait for it under the shelter of a bush. Unfortunately the game took the opposite direction when started, so that Jerry was thrown entirely out. As it chanced, however, this did not matter much, for Jerry's horse, becoming unmanageable, took to its heels and dashed away wildly over the plain, followed by Dikkop the Hottentot.

"Mind the ant-bear holes!" shouted Dikkop, but as he shouted in Dutch Jerry did not understand him, and devoted himself to vain endeavours to restrain the horse. At first the animal looked after itself and avoided the holes referred to, but as Jerry kept tugging furiously at the reins it became reckless, and finally put a fore-leg into a hole. Instantly it rolled over, and the hunter flew off its back, turning a complete somersault in the air.

A low shrub grows in the karroo, called the ill-tempered thorn. It resembles a ma.s.s of miniature porcupine quills, an inch or two in length, planted as thickly as possible together, with the needle-points up and bristling. On one of these shrubs poor Jerry alighted!

"Oh! 'eavens, this is hagony!" he groaned, jumping up and stamping, while Dikkop almost fell off his horse with laughing.

To hide his mirth he bolted off in pursuit of Jerry's charger, which he soon caught and brought back, looking supernaturally grave.

"We will rejoin the 'unters, Dikkop," said Jerry, in the tone of a man who endeavours to conceal his sufferings.

"Ja, Mynheer," said Dikkop.

Whatever Jerry Goldboy might have said, that Hottentot would have replied "Ja, Mynheer," for he understood not a word of English.

Jerry mounted with an ill-suppressed groan and rode back to the party, leaning very much forward in the saddle, while Dikkop followed, showing the white teeth in his dirty black visage from ear to ear.

Rivers soon afterwards returned with a springbok behind him, but there was no appearance of Considine or Hans. As, however, the latter was known to be an experienced traveller, no anxiety was felt for them, and the main party proceeded on its way. When night came they found that a well, on which they had counted, was dried up, and were therefore obliged to lie down without water. Several shots were fired after dark to guide the absent ones, but no reply was made. Still, those in camp felt no anxiety, knowing that Hans was quite able to take care of himself.

And so he was, truly, but he could not take care of a hot-headed youth who was as eager as Jerry in the chase, and much more daring.

At first he and Considine ran together after the springboks; then Hans got near enough, dismounted, and shot one. While he was busy fastening the carca.s.s on his horse, Considine continued to pursue the others; going at full speed, he was soon far away on the horizon. Still Hans would have been able to see him if he had not got among some scattered groups of mimosa-bushes, which were sufficiently large to conceal him.

When he remounted and looked around, his friend was not to be seen. He saw a few springboks, however, racing on the horizon in the direction in which Considine had galloped, and concluded somewhat hastily that they were pursued by his friend. Away he went, therefore, but soon discovered that he was mistaken. He turned then, and rode quickly back, blaming himself for not having followed the footprints of his friend's horse. This he now did, and at last came up with him, but at so late an hour, and at such a distance from the line of march, that a bivouac in the plain was inevitable.

"Oh, Hans," he said, "I'm so glad you've found me! I had no idea that one could get so easily lost in an open plain."

"You've had enough experience too, one would think, to have remembered the vastness of the karroo," said Hans, dismounting and making the fastenings of the springbok more secure, "A man soon dwindles to the size of a crow in plains like this, when you gallop away from him. Men not accustomed to them misjudge distances and sizes in a wonderful way.

I remember once being out hunting with a fellow who mistook a waggon for a springbok!--But come, mount; we must ride on to a better camping-place than this, and be content to sleep without blankets to-night."

"I hope the camping-place is not far off, for I'm parched with thirst,"

said Considine, mounting and following at a smart gallop.