Wild Adventures in Wild Places Part 7

"A glorious morning," he said again.

"Beautiful," said Fred, gazing languidly around him.

"You seem in fine form," said Frank, smiling.

"Just had a salt water bath. The other fellows in my cabin had soda and brandy. I feel fresher now than they do."

The ship was a steamer, _Druid_, but she was staggering along under a power of canvas and, bar accident, two more days would see them safe in Cape Town.

Fred Freeman had been very loth and sorry to leave his friends in Russia, for reasons well known to the reader. Frank, for reasons of a similar nature, had been just as anxious to get back to dear old Wales, to enjoy, so he said, six weeks' hunting. But Chisholm had looked at him with a right merry twinkle in his blue eyes as he replied,--

"Nay, boy, nay, the next hunting you'll do will be at the Cape. I promised your father to take you right round the world, and I told some one else that some one else wouldn't see you again for three years at the very least. So there!"

Here is an extract from Chisholm's diary, written three months after:--

"The Cape hills in sight at last. But I shouldn't say _at last_, because our pa.s.sage has been everything one could wish. Fred and Frank are both a bit low, leastways they don't talk enough, perhaps they think. Wonder if it is their late lotus-eating life that is telling upon their const.i.tutions, or is it merely that they're in love. A little bit of both, perhaps. But they'll wake up ere long without a doubt."

Chisholm was perfectly correct in his surmises, both Fred and Frank did wake up, and as soon as the roaring of the steam from the funnel, and the rattling of the anchor chains, convinced them that the voyage was indeed at an end, they threw aside their hooks, pulled themselves together, and entered heart and soul into the excitement of sh.o.r.e going.

A whole week was to be spent at Cape Town, and it was the best and sweetest time of all the year they could have chosen to visit the place.

In the town itself and the suburbs the gardens were gorgeous in their floral beauty, and all the wild romantic hills around were crimson and white with geraniums, and the rarest and loveliest of heaths and wild flowers. Roaming among the mountains was pleasant even by day, for the sub-tropical heat of the sun was tempered by the pleasant breeze that blew inland from the ocean. Although they never went abroad for a ramble without taking their guns along with them, of sport, properly so-called, there was but little. They managed to make several good bags of rock rabbits, nevertheless. These funny little creatures are as much like rats as rabbits, but they are delicious eating. It was quite half a day's journey to reach their haunts, over the hills and through the stunted bush, and across broad uplands where little else save a kind of hard, tough gra.s.s grew, and walking among which was dangerous, owing to the number of deadly snakes that slept or crept among it. Beyond this there would be more bush, in which bright-winged but songless birds flitted noiselessly about, then the rocks or cliffs where dwelt the coneys.

There is one trait in the character of a rock rabbit which breeds it a deal of harm, and that is curiosity. They like to know all they can learn about any one who honours them with a domiciliary visit. No sooner had our heroes appeared at the foot of the chaos of boulders which formed the cliff, than one rock rabbit mounted a stone to see what they looked like. I suppose he meant to go back and report to his comrades, but Frank's gun spoiled his good intention, and he came tumbling down to meet them. The crack of the fowling-piece brought a dozen at least of his relations out, to see what on earth the matter was, and many of them, not content with the advantage of the good view which a bit of boulder gave them, must needs stand on their hind-legs to add to their elevation; then it was bang, bang, right and left, and bang, bang, left and right _ad libitum_, or as fast at least as the rabbits appeared. Did they kill all they fired at? Oh! no, not by a very great deal. Many downed to the flash, and many that were knocked over succeeded in reaching the friendly shelter of their holes, and it is to be hoped, for their sakes, that their hospital arrangements were as complete as possible, else many of these poor curious creatures must have suffered a good deal more than our heroes meant them to.

On their way to and from these little shooting excursions snakes were shot wherever seen, whip snakes and sand snakes, black snakes and cobras.

"It's no sin to slay a snake," Fred would say, "and it expends the ammunition, you know."

Well, this sort of life was certainly less slow than lotus-eating, but a week of it was enough. They felt "crowded," as the Yankees call it, even at Cape Town. They wanted to be off and away into the wilds; the only question was how to get into the interior. The subject was broached one day at the _table d'hote_, at which they were dining, and Chisholm thought the best plan would be to hire a dhow to take them on to Zanzibar.

"For it strikes me," he said, "that it is quite the orthodox plan to start for the interior of Africa by way of Zanzibar, just as it is to go to New York from Liverpool."

"It is," said a gentleman present, "but you'll find it slow work getting to Zanzibar in a dhow, and precious rough work too. I'm Commander Lyell of the _Dodo_; my gunboat sails to-morrow for Zanzibar. I've heard you mention my uncle's name, General Lyell, and if you like to rough it with me, I'll take you."

A nephew of General Lyell! This was news indeed, to Frank at least; and it is needless to say the offer was gladly accepted.

Three spare cots were rigged in the Commander's cabin, and in every way they were made as comfortable as could be.

Half a gale of wind was what they had to start with, up the Mozambique; next day it had increased to nearly hurricane force. They saw many ships lying-to, but the _Dodo_ did nothing of that sort; wet enough though, she was in all conscience, in fact she seemed to spend most of her time under instead of over the waves; very wet she was, and likewise very lively, but she made a good pa.s.sage, and in little over a week, she had cast anchor in a beautiful wooded hay on the African coast, where white-roofed houses, close by the sh.o.r.e, peeped out through the greenery of trees.

"There is a bit of fun to be got not far from here," said Captain Lyell, "for a day's journey beyond the little Portuguese village there, the antelope swarm, and horses, too, are procurable, by paying for them."

Frank was a splendid horseman, and his delight at the prospect of a hunt was unbounded.

Horses they could and did procure, and wild and unmanageable brutes they proved at first, but after the third day they became quiet enough.

Their way led through a most beautiful well-timbered undulating country, and travelling was far from difficult, but as they journeyed more inland, and bore more to the north, not only their difficulties, but their dangers too, increased; the land got more rugged and mountainous, the jungles more dense and impenetrable, and the forests grew darker and deeper. They found themselves, too, bordering on a country, the inhabitants of which were far from friendly, and it was then they found their Portuguese guides of the greatest of use; they could speak the language of these savages, and their relations with them were the relations of trade. Portuguese the natives could bear with. Englishmen they both feared and hated. But little cared our heroes; in fact they treated the blacks with the coolest indifference, and probably that was the best way they could have treated them.

Many a lordly antelope fell to their guns, they had days on days of good sport, and the very dangers that surrounded them, seemed only to make their life in the bush all the more enjoyable. A glorious hunt Frank had one day all to himself. It was a ride he is never likely to forget, either, for it came nigh costing him dear life itself. Out on the open plain one morning, though but a little way from the camp, he started a fine buck. It seemed positively to invite him to the chase; well, his horse was fresh, he was fresh himself, a ten miles' run he thought would do them both good, and yonder was the deer, so off he went. Off went man and horse, and buck, but the latter seemed never to tire, and the plain over which he rode seemed interminable. Hours flew by; then Frank's horse began to flag, for he must have ridden thirty miles in a bee line; so the buck won the day, he took to cover in a small bit of scrub, and from that he would not be moved. If he had, Frank thought, but one good hound, he could rest his horse, then start the chase, and probably turn him again towards the camp, and thus finish a day that would make the roaster of Her Majesty's Staghounds envy him even to read of it. But no, he must mount his horse again and ride back. Back?

Yes, it seemed about the easiest thing in the world to find his way back; but when, after journeying on and on all the day, without seeing a sign or token of the camp he had left, when, faint and weary, he saw the sun dipping slowly downwards to the western horizon, then his heart sank within him, and for the first time he realised the terribleness of his situation--_he was lost_! Lost! and it mattered little to him now which way he rode; he allowed the bridle to hang loose on the neck of his jaded horse, his own chin to fall on his breast; a sense of weariness crept over him that almost induced sleep, and more than once he nearly slipped from the saddle. Presently it was night, and big bright stars shone over him, which he did not care even to glance at. He only felt tired, cold, sleepy.

"Coo--oo--ee!" Hark! does he dream? No, for list! once again that long unearthly yell. The horse p.r.i.c.ks up his ears and neighs. Frank seizes the bridle, and once more listens himself, for well he knows what he hears is the night-shout of the outpost African sentinels. In ten minutes more he is beside the camp-fire. Thanks to the sagacity of that good horse.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

CRUISING IN THE DODO--THE BLUEBELL--HOW OYSTERS GROW ON TREES--AWAY UP THE BEAUTIFUL RIVER--THE BLUEBELL AGROUND--NOONTIDE ON THE RIVER.

On board the _Dodo_ once more, steaming steadily northwards; some times far out at sea, with nothing but the blue all round them: sometimes hugging the green-wooded sh.o.r.e: sometimes casting anchor at the mouths of mighty rivers, and sending armed boats away to seek for the slave dhows that hid all day under the hanging boughs, and stole out to sea at night. Chisholm, the oldest of our heroes, confessed he had never enjoyed a voyage so much in his life. At last, however, they cast anchor in Zanzibar, and were nothing loth to go on sh.o.r.e to stretch their legs. The captain accompanied them in his gig, dressed in full uniform--c.o.c.ked-hat, epaulettes, and sword. He was going to visit the Consulate, and expected news of some importance.

Accompanied by a black boy, who wore no clothes worth mentioning, but could speak English and prided himself thereon, they went for a grand tour of inspection. The streets were narrow, long, and winding, and oftentimes bridged over at the top, so that the residents in one house could cross over to see their friends on the other side of the way, without the trouble of coming downstairs. There was a singular absence of windows in the houses of the gentlemen Arabs, Banians, or Hindus; every room of which, although furnished luxuriantly, is very dark and cool. In the bazaar and in the streets where the shops were, there was hardly any moving along, so great was the motley crowd, and, saving the women and the innumerable slaves, every one they met was armed to the teeth. The warrior Arabs, with their long flowing hair, dressed in embroidered robes of snowy white, with cloaks of camel's hair, gilded turbans and jewelled sword-belts, looked boldly picturesque; these mingled in the streets with--white-gowned Hindus, and long-faced, dark-coated Pa.r.s.ees; sailors in blue and soldiers in scarlet, and sacred solemn-looking cows with gilded horns, which many a one touched with fond reverence, as they walked quietly along. And the background of all this picture was slavery; slavery panting and perspiring as it dragged itself along in chains; slavery cowering under the lash of the driver's whip; slavery bent to the ground under loads of cowrie sh.e.l.ls; slavery, dark unhappy slavery.

Our heroes were glad to find themselves at last out in the green and flowery country, wandering under the shade of giant trees, and inhaling the sweet perfume of orange blossom. The first person they met on their return from sh.o.r.e was Captain Lyell himself. He shook hands with them all round, at which they were not a little surprised, but they could see by his face there was something in the wind.

"Come down below," he said. When he got them there he continued, "I've got good news, gentlemen, in fact, I may say glorious news; let me tell it to you all in one sentence. First, then, I'm promoted; I'm now Captain Lyell in reality, and not by courtesy alone; secondly, I'm going home--another officer has arrived to take command of the _Dodo_; thirdly, I've applied to the Commodore for four months' leave; fourthly, I've got it; fifthly and lastly, I've hired a pretty little river steamboat from a Scotch friend on sh.o.r.e here, one that takes all to pieces for the boys to carry, quite an African explore boat, and I'm ready to start with you to-morrow if you like for the interior, and if we don't get the rarest of sport, why I shan't believe that my name is plain John Lyell."

It is needless to say that after this there was another round of hand-shaking, or that the dinner that day was enlivened by some of the captain's very best and rarest of reminiscences.

The little steamer which Lyell had hired was indeed a beauty, quite a fairy boat. Getting her ready for the voyage and packing the stores, getting in all necessaries, and hiring "the boys" occupied quite a week.

Then they went out on their trial trip. The day was beautiful--it was the sunny season in the Indian ocean--there was just enough wind to temper the heat and ripple the sea. The many pretty islands they visited seemed, at a distance, to float in the sky; they were emerald green, and fringed with a beach of snowy sand. They landed on some of these and shot a species of small deer and rabbits--wild rabbits such as we have at home. [I cannot account for the presence of rabbits on some islands in the channel of the Mozambique, but there they are.] In a little sandy cove of one of these islands, they took luncheon _al fresco_, previously enjoying the luxury of a bath, all taking a header at once and making all the noise they could to keep the sharks at bay.

The trial trip was perfectly satisfactory; so next morning early, it was up anchor and off. The _Bluebird_ hadn't much s.p.a.ce between decks, but they had an awning spread, and lounging on deck was delightful. They headed north, keeping two or three miles from the sh.o.r.e. This sh.o.r.e was a cloudland of green, without beach or sea border of any kind.

"Yonder," said Lyell, "is where oysters grow on trees."

There was a laugh at this; but next morning the captain verified his statement, and he took Frank with him in the little boat, and they brought off a bucketful. The explanation is this: the roots of the mangrove trees grow among the water, to these the oysters cling, and at low water can be gathered.

Now here they are at the mouth of a great river; they can hear the thundering of the breakers on the terrible bar as they approach it, over these mountain waves their boat must go, and it is lucky for them that they have so experienced a sailor as Lyell at the helm. But beyond all is peace; the peace that reigns on the broad bosom of a great river whose waters roll slowly seaward. On each side the banks are wooded to the water's edge. The trees are mangroves, but here and there are bunches of feathery palms.

After dinner they land among a clump of these to drink cool delicious cocoa-nut milk. [This glorious nectar can only be had in perfection in lands where the cocoa palms grow. Each green nut before the fruit is formed contains about a quart of it.] In Africa, wherever you find cocoa-nut trees you find human beings, and here was a negro village, but at sight of the white faces of the travellers the natives fled screaming into the dark depths of the forest. So they had to help themselves.

Onward again, and now a thick fog envelopes them, and in a few minutes the _Bluebell_ has run aground and refuses to budge. Then it is all hands to strip and get overboard to lighten ship; all save the little engineer; he stays aboard to go all speed astern. All speed astern means no speed at all for ten minutes at least, during which time it comes on to rain in fearful torrents, and the surface of the river becomes all at once so hot, that they are glad when the _Bluebell_ moves again, and they can get up out of it. They hadn't bargained for a warm bath. But the mist rolls off presently, and they can once more see their way. But this running aground becomes an almost every day occurrence, so that at last they quite look forward to the order to strip and plunge.

They have left the last Portuguese settlement, and the last Arab encampment, leagues and leagues behind them; they have pa.s.sed the countries of many different tribes of natives. Most of these fled on their approach, but the warriors of some lined the sh.o.r.es, yelling maniacally, and brandishing their war spears. They have come at last to a portion of the stream where they are but little troubled with the presence of the aborigines, a few only being seen in their log canoes peacefully fishing. But where mankind does not abound in Africa birds and beasts hold sway; and one day, on rounding a point of land, they came upon a scene of such animation, as my poor pen would fail in any attempt to describe. It was noontide on the river; countless herds of zebus and zebras had come down to drink, hippopotami wallowed in the shallows, and the sky above was alive with myriads of strange and beautiful birds, that floated screaming around, or perched on the trees, deafening the ear with their noise and chatter; parrots and lories, ibises, flamingoes and storks--some of these as they circled high in the air being arrayed in plumage of pure white and scarlet, looked strangely beautiful against the sky's azure blue.

"O!" cried Chisholm, "we mustn't let such an opportunity as this pa.s.s for a big shoot."

"Give them time to drink," said Fred; "it would be a shame to disturb them yet a little."

This was agreed to, and the _Bluebird_ lay still for two hours, which gave ample time to watch the strange manners and customs of these curious specimens of animal life, and after this shooting began. The larger game were wilder than they imagined, and soon made themselves very scarce indeed; but the birds took hardly any heed of their presence, and even when dozens of them fluttered down dead, instead of being afraid, the majority seemed to look upon the matter as a very pretty joke, and the parrots in particular shrieked and laughed till the very welkin rang.

The scenery got more varied as they proceeded more inland; the river swept at times through vast treeless wastes, and on its banks lay alligators basking in the sunshine. This was a temptation never to be resisted. It afforded good ball practice, and I daresay it tickled the alligators up a little if it did nothing else. At other times the river was bounded by gigantic cliffs; here it narrowed, and the current was so strong that a mile an hour of headway was all that could be made, under the highest pressure of steam commensurate with safety.

They had come to the right hunting grounds at last, so thought Chisholm, Frank, and Fred. But Lyell, although always willing to lie to for a day to enjoy the wild scenery, and the shooting the jungles afforded, always counselled going on and on. Early in the morning and an hour or two before the shades of evening fell, were the times they generally chose to disembark for a ramble in the forest.

One day they crept quietly through the bush to a spot whence some noise proceeded. They expected a shot at something. Suddenly they found themselves within a stone's throw of a herd of most beautiful zebras; they had come to a pool to drink. But beyond them were quite a regiment of giraffes. _They_ could sniff the danger from afar if the zebras could not; they swung their heads as if they were gigantic hammers, stamped with rage, and bounded off ere ever a trigger could be drawn.

But our heroes were rewarded half-an-hour afterwards, by falling in with a quant.i.ty of hippopotami. These unwieldly monsters were quietly browsing on the rank herbage that the plain afforded them. Probably they never ran so quickly before as they did when fire was opened on them from the bush. Before they had began to shoot, "I say, boys," said Chisholm, "what a charming view, a n.o.bleman's castle on a hill, park and trees and all complete! Doesn't it look like it, though?"

"Yes," Fred replied, laughing; "and deer and all in it. Don't they look elegant with their short legs and their swollen mouths?"

Bang--bang--bang!