Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England The Young Yagers A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa By Captain Mayne Reid Published by Ticknor and Fields, Boston, USA This edition dated 1857 The Young Yagers, by Captain Mayne Reid. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ THE YOUNG YAGERS, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. CHAPTER ONE. THE CAMP OF THE YOUNG YAGERS. Near the confluence of the two great rivers of Southern Africa--the _Yellow_ and _Orange_--behold the camp of the "young yagers!" It stands upon the southern bank of the latter stream, in a grove of Babylonian willows, whose silvery foliage, drooping gracefully to the water's edge, fringes both shores of the noble river as far as the eye can reach. A tree of rare beauty is this _Salix Babylonica_--in gracefulness of form scarce surpassed even by the palms, the "princes of the forest." In our land, as we look upon it, a tinge of sadness steals over our reflections. We have grown to regard it as the emblem of sorrow. We have named it the "weeping willow," and draped the tomb with its soft pale fronds, as with a winding-sheet of silver. Far different are the feelings inspired by the sight of this beautiful tree amid the _karoos_ of Southern Africa. That is a land where springs and streams are "few and far between;" and the _weeping_ willow--sure sign of the presence of water--is no longer the emblem of sorrow, but the symbol of joy. Joy reigns in the camp under its shade by the banks of the noble Orange River, as is proved by the continuous peals of laughter that ring clear and loud upon the air, and echo from the opposite shores of the stream. Who are they that laugh so loudly and cheerfully? _The young yagers_. And who are the young yagers? Let us approach their camp and see for ourselves. It is night, but the blaze of the camp-fire will enable us to distinguish all of them, as they are all seated around it. By its light we can take their portraits. There are six of them--a full "set of six," and not one appears to be yet twenty years of age. They are all boys between the ages of ten and twenty--though two or three of them, and, maybe, more than that number, think themselves quite men. Three of the party you will recognise at a glance as old acquaintances. They are no other than Hans, Hendrik, and Jan, our _ci-devant_ "Bush-boys." It is several years since we saw them last, and they have grown a good deal since then; but none of them has yet reached the full stature of manhood. Though no longer "Bush-boys," they are yet only boys; and Jan, who used to be called "little Jan," still merits and receives that distinctive appellation. It would stretch Jan to his utmost to square off against a four-foot measuring-stick; and he could only manage it by standing upon the very tips of his toes. Hans has grown taller, but, perhaps, thinner and paler. For two years he has been at college, where he has been very busy with his books, and has greatly distinguished himself by carrying off the first prizes in everything. Upon Hendrik there is a decided change. He has outgrown his elder brother both in length and breadth, and comes very near looking like a full-grown man. He is yet but eighteen years old, straight as a rush, with a decided military air and gait. The last is not to be wondered at, as Hendrik has now been a cornet in the Cape Mounted Rifles for more than a year, and still holds that commission, as may be learnt by looking at his forage-cap, with its golden embroidery over the peak. So much for our old acquaintances the "Bush-boys!" But who are the other three that share with them the circle of the camp-fire? Who are their companions? for they are evidently on terms of companionship, and friendship too. Who are they? A word or two will tell that. They are the _Van Wyks_. The three sons of Diedrik Van Wyk. And who, then, is Diedrik Van Wyk? That must also be explained. Diedrik is a very rich boor--a "vee-boor"--who every night shuts up within his spacious _kraals_ more than three thousand horses and horned cattle, with five times that number of sheep and goats! In fact, Diedrik Van Wyk is accounted the richest vee-boor, or grazier, in all the Graaf Reinet. Now the broad _plaatz_, or farm, of Diedrik Van Wyk lies contiguous to that of our old acquaintance, Hendrik Von Bloom; and it so chances that Hendrik and Diedrik are fast friends and inseparable companions. They see each other once a-day, at the least. Every evening Hendrik rides over to the "kraal" of Diedrik, or Diedrik to that of Hendrik, to enjoy a smoke together out of their ponderous pipes of meerschaum, or a "zoopje" of _brandewyn_ distilled from their own peaches. They are, in fact, a pair of regular old comrades,--for Van Wyk in early life has seen military service as well as Von Bloom,--and, like all old soldiers, they love to repeat their camp stories, and "fight their battles o'er again." Under such circumstances it is not to be wondered at, that the children of both should be intimate acquaintances. But, in addition to the friendship of their fathers, there is a tie of relationship between the two families,--the two mothers were cousins,--so that the children are what is usually termed second cousins,--a very interesting sort of affinity. And it is not an unlikely thing that the relationship between the families of Von Bloom and his friend Van Wyk may one day become still closer and more interesting; for the former has for his daughter, as all the world knows, the beautiful flaxen-haired cherry-cheeked Truey, while the latter is the father of the pretty brunette Wilhelmina--also an only daughter. Now there chance to be three boys in each family; and though both boys and girls are by far too young to think of getting married yet, there are suspicions abroad that the families of Von Bloom and Van Wyk will, at no very distant day, be connected by a double marriage--which would not be displeasing to either of the old comrades, Hendrik and Diedrik. I have said there are three boys in each family. You already know the Von Blooms, Hans, Hendrik, and Jan. Allow me to introduce you to the Van Wyks. Their names are Willem, Arend, and Klaas. Willem is the eldest, and, though not yet eighteen, is quite a man in size. Willem is, in fact, a boy of very large dimensions, so large that he has received the _sobriquet_ of "Groot Willem" (Big William) therefrom. All his companions call him "Groot Willem." But he is strong in proportion to his size,--by far the strongest of the young yagers. He is by no means tidy in his dress. His clothes, consisting of a big jacket of homespun cloth, a check shirt, and an enormously wide pair of leathern trousers, hang loosely about him, and make him look larger than he really is. Even his broad-brimmed felt hat has a slouching set upon his head, and his _feldtschoenen_ are a world too wide for his feet. And just as easy as his dress is the disposition of the wearer. Though strong as a lion, and conscious of his strength, Groot Willem would not harm a fly, and his kindly and unselfish nature makes him a favourite with all. Groot Willem is a mighty hunter, carries one of the largest of guns, a regular Dutch "roer," and also an enormous powder-horn, and pouch full of leaden bullets. An ordinary boy would stagger under such a load, but it is nothing to Groot Willem. Now it may be remembered that Hendrik Von Bloom is also a "mighty hunter;" and I shall just whisper that a slight feeling of rivalry--I shall not call it jealousy, for they are good friends--exists between these two Nimrods. Hendrik's favourite gun is a rifle, while the roer of Groot Willem is a "smooth bore;" and between the merits of these two weapons camp-fire discussions are frequent and sharp. They are never carried beyond the limits of gentlemanly feeling, for loose and slovenly as is Groot Willem in outward appearance, he is a gentleman within. Equally a gentleman, but of far more taste and style, is the second brother of the Van Wyks, Arend. In striking appearance and manly beauty he is quite a match for Hendrik Von Bloom himself, though in complexion and features there is no resemblance between them. Hendrik is fair, while Arend is very dark-skinned, with black eyes and hair. In fact, all the Van Wyks are of the complexion known as "brunette," for they belong to that section of the inhabitants of Holland sometimes distinguished as "Black Dutch." But upon Arend's fine features the hue sits well, and a handsomer youth is not to be seen in all the Graaf Reinet. Some whisper that this is the opinion of the beautiful Gertrude Von Bloom; but that can only be idle gossip, for the fair Truey is yet but thirteen, and therefore can have no opinion on such a matter. Africa, however, is an early country, and there _might_ be something in it. Arend's costume is a tasty one, and becomes him well. It consists of a jacket of dressed antelope-skin,--the skin of the springbok; but this, besides being tastefully cut and sewed, is very prettily embroidered with slashes of beautiful leopard-skin, while broad bands of the same extend along the outside seams of the trousers, from waist to ankle, giving to the whole dress, a very rich and striking effect. Arend's head-dress is similar to that worn by Hendrik Von Bloom, viz: a military forage-cap, upon the front of which are embroidered in gold bullion a bugle and some letters; and the explanation of that is, that Arend, like his second cousin, is a cornet in the Cape Rifles, and a dashing young soldier he is. Now the portrait of Klaas in pen and ink.--Klaas is just Jan's age and Jan's exact height, but as to circumference therein exists a great difference. Jan, as you all know, is a thin, wiry little fellow, while Klaas, on the contrary, is broad, stout, and burly. In fact, so stout is he, that Jan repeated two and a half times would scarce equal him in diameter! Both wear cloth roundabouts and trousers, and little broad-brimmed hats; both go to the same school; and, though there is a considerable difference between them in other respects, both are great boys for bird-catching and all that sort of thing. As they only carry small shot-guns, of course they do not aspire to killing antelopes or other large animals; but, small as their guns are, I pity the partridge, guinea-hen, or even bustard, that lets either of them crawl within reach of it. Now it has been hinted that between the hunters Groot Willem and Hendrik there is a slight feeling of rivalry in regard to matters of _venerie_. A very similar feeling, spiced perhaps with a little bit of jealousy, has long existed between the bird-catchers, and sometimes leads to a little coolness between them, but that is usually of very short duration. Hans and Arend have no envious feelings--either of one another or of anybody else. Hans is too much of a philosopher: besides, the accomplishment in which he excels, the knowledge of natural history, is one in which he is without a rival. None of the rest make any pretensions to such knowledge; and the opinion of Hans on any matter of science is always regarded as a final judgment. As to Arend, he is not particularly proud of any acquirement. Handsome, brave, and generous, he is nevertheless a right modest youth,--a boy to be beloved. And now you know who are the _young yagers_. CHAPTER TWO. SWARTBOY THE BUSHMAN AND CONGO THE KAFFIR. I have said that the young yagers were encamped on the southern bank of the Great Orange River. What were they doing there? The spot they occupied was many a long day's journey from their home in the Graaf Reinet, and many a day's journey beyond the frontier of the Cape Colony. There were no settlements near. No white men ever wandered so far, except an occasional "smouse," or trader--a class of men who extend their bartering expeditions almost to the central parts of the African Continent. Sometimes, too, the "trek-boor," or nomade grazier, may have driven his flocks to this remote place, but for all that it could not be considered a settled country. It was still a wilderness. And what were the young Von Blooms and Van Wyks doing in the wilderness? _Jaging_ to be sure, and nothing else,--they were simply out on a hunting expedition. It was an expedition that had been long talked of and planned. Since their grand hunt of the elephant, the "Bush-boys" had not followed any game. Hendrik had been with his regiment, and Hans and Jan busy with their respective studies. So with Arend Van Wyk as with Hendrik, and Klaas as with Jan. Groot Willem alone, from time to time, had been jaging springboks and such other game as is to be found among the settlements. But the present was a grand expedition intended to be carried far beyond the settled part of the colony--in fact, as far as they thought fit to go. The boys had received the full sanction of their parents, and had been fitted out in proper style--each having a good horse, and each three a large wagon to carry all their camp utensils, and serve as a tent to sleep in. Each wagon had its driver, and full span of ten long-horned oxen; and these, with a small pack of rough-looking _buck-dogs_, might be seen in the camp--the oxen tied to the disselbooms of the wagons, and the dogs grouped in various attitudes around the fire. The horses were also fastened some to the wheels, and others to trees that grew near. Two other objects in the camp are well worthy of a word or two; in fact, they are two individuals of very great importance to the expedition--as without them the wagons would be a troublesome affair. They are the drivers of these vehicles, and each is as proud of his whip-craft as Jehu could possibly have been of his. In one of these drivers you will recognise an old acquaintance. The large head and high cheek-bones, with the flat spread nostrils between; the small oblique Mongolian eyes; the short curly wool-knots, planted sparsely over the broad skull; the yellow complexion; the thick "chunky" form, scarce four feet in height, and sparely clad in red flannel shirt and brown leathern "crackers;" with all these features and characters before your mind, you cannot fail to recognise an old favourite--the Bushman, _Swartboy_. Swartboy it was; and, though several years have rolled over the Bushman's bare head since we saw him last, there is no visible change observable in Swartboy. The thinly scattered "kinks" of browny black wool still adorn Swartboy's crown and occiput, but they are no thinner-- the same good-natured grin is observed upon his yellow face--he is still the same faithful servant--the same expert driver--the same useful fellow that he ever was. Swartboy, of course, drives the wagon of the Von Blooms. Now the driver of the Van Wyk vehicle is about as unlike Swartboy as a bear to a bluebottle. In the first place, he is above a third taller than the Bushman, standing over six feet,--not in his stockings, for he never wears stockings, but in sandals, which he does wear. His complexion is darker than that of the Hottentot, although it is not black, but rather of a bronze colour; and the hair of his head, although somewhat "woolly," is longer than Swartboy's, and less inclined to _take root at both ends_! Where the line of Swartboy's nose is concave, that of the other is convex, and the nose itself almost aquiline. A dark piercing eye, a row of white teeth regularly set, lips of moderate thickness, a well-proportioned form, and erect attitude, give to this individual, an aspect of grandeur and gravity, both of which are in complete contrast with the comic picture presented by the short stout body and grinning countenance of the Bushman. The costume of the tall man has something graceful about it. It consists of a tunic-like skirt suspended around the waist and hanging down to mid-thigh. There is something peculiar in this skirt. It has the appearance of a fringe or drapery of long white hairs, not plaited or woven, but hanging free and full. It is, in fact, the true costume of a savage; and consists simply of a number of antelope's tails--the white tails of the gnoo--strung together around the waist, and allowed to fall to their full length down the thighs. A sort of "tippet" of the same surrounding the shoulders, with copper rings on the ankles and armlets encircling the wrist, a bunch of ostrich-feathers waving from his crown, and a string of beads around his neck, complete the costume of Congo the Kaffir--for to that nation of romantic savages belonged the wagon-driver of the Van Wyks. What! a Kaffir the driver of a wagon? you will exclaim. You can hardly realise the idea, that a Kaffir--a warrior, as you may deem him--could be employed in so menial an office as wagon-driving! But it is even so. Many Kaffirs are so engaged in the Cape Colony,--indeed, many thousands; and in offices of a more degrading kind than driving a wagon team--which by the way, is far from being considered an unworthy employment in South Africa, so far that the sons of the wealthiest boors may often be seen mounted upon the voor-kist and handling the long bamboo whip with all the ability of a practised "jarvey." There is nothing odd about Congo the Kaffir being wagon-driver to the Van Wyks. He was a refugee, who had escaped from the despotic rule of the blood-stained monster Chaaka. Having in some way offended the tyrant, he had been compelled to flee for his life; and, after wandering southward, had found safety and protection among the colonists. Here he had learnt to make himself a useful member of civilised society, though a lingering regard for ancient habits influenced him still to retain the costume of his native country--the country of the Zooloo Kaffir. No one could have blamed him for this; for, as he stood with his ample leopard-skin _kaross_ suspended togalike from his shoulders, the silvery skirt draping gracefully to his knees, and his metal rings glittering under the blaze of the camp-fire, a noble picture he presented,--a savage but interesting picture. No one could blame Congo for wishing to display his fine form in so becoming a costume. And no one did. No one was jealous of the handsome savage. Yes,--one. There was one who did not regard him with the most amiable feelings. There was a rival who could not listen to Congo's praise with indifference. One who liked not Congo. That rival was Swartboy. Talk of the rivalry that existed between the hunters Hendrik and Groot Willem, of that between Klaas and Jan. Put both into one, and it would still fall far short of the constant struggles for pre-eminence that were exhibited between the rival "whips," Swartboy the Bushman, and Congo the Kaffir. Swartboy and Congo were the only servants with the expedition. Cooks or other attendants the young yagers had none. Not but that the rich landdrost,--for it must be remembered that Von Bloom was now chief magistrate of his district,--and the wealthy boor could have easily afforded a score of attendants upon each trio of hunters. But there were no attendants whatever beyond the two drivers. This was not on the score of economy. No such thing. It was simply because the old soldiers, Hendrik Von Bloom and Diedrik Van Wyk, were not the men to pamper their boys with too much luxury. "If they must go a-hunting, let them rough it," said they; and so they started them off, giving them a brace of wagons to carry their _impedimenta_--and their spoils. But the young yagers needed no attendance. Each knew how to wait upon himself. Even the youngest could skin an antelope and broil its ribs over the fire; and that was about all the cookery they would require till their return. The healthy stomach of the hunter supplies a sauce more appetising than either Harvey or Soyer could concoct with all their culinary skill. Before arriving at their present camp the young yagers had been out several weeks; but, although they had hunted widely, they had not fallen in with any of the great game, such as giraffes, buffaloes, or elephants; and scarce an adventure worth talking about. A day or two before a grand discussion had taken place as to whether they should cross the great river, and proceed farther northward, in search of the camelopard and elephant, or whether they should continue on the southern side, jaging springboks, hartebeests, and several other kinds of antelopes. This discussion ended in a resolve to continue on to the north, and remain there till their time was up,--the time of course being regulated by the duration of college and school vacations, and leave of absence from the "Corps." Groot Willem had been the principal adviser of this course, and Hans his backer. The former was desirous of jaging the elephant, the buffalo, and giraffe,--a sport at which he was still but a novice, as he had never had a fair opportunity of hunting these mighty giants of the wood; while Hans was equally desirous of an exploring expedition that would bring him in contact with new forms of vegetable life. Strange as it may appear, Arend threw in his vote for returning home; and, stranger still, that the hunter Hendrik should join him in this advice! But almost every thing can be explained, if we examine it with care and patience; and the odd conduct of the two "cornets" was capable of explanation. Hans slyly hinted that it was possible that a certain brunette, Wilhelmina, might have something to do with Hendrik's decision; but Groot Willem, who was a rough plain-spoken fellow, broadly alleged, that it was nothing else than Truey that was carrying Arend's thoughts homeward; and the consequence of these hints and assertions was, that neither Hendrik nor Arend offered any further opposition to going northward among the elephants, but, blushing red to the very eyes, both were only too glad to give in their assent and terminate the discussion. Northward then became the word:--northward for the land of the tall giraffe and the mighty elephant! The young yagers had arrived on the southern bank of the Orange River, opposite to a well-known "drift," or crossing-place. There chanced to be a freshet in the river; and they had encamped, and were waiting until the water should fall and the ford become passable. CHAPTER THREE. HOW CONGO CROSSED A "DRIFT." Next morning, by break of day, our yagers were astir, and the first object upon which they rested their eyes was the river. To their joy it had fallen several feet, as they could tell by the water-mark upon the trees. The streams of South Africa, like those of most tropical and sub-tropical countries, and especially where the district is mountainous, rise and fall with much greater rapidity than those of temperate climes. Their sudden rise is accounted for by the great quantity of water which in tropical storms is precipitated within a short period of time--the rain falling, not in light sparse drops, but thick and heavy, for several hours together, until the whole surface of the country is saturated, and every rivulet becomes a torrent. Of these storms we have an exemplification in our summer thunder-showers--with their big rain-drops, when in a few minutes the gutter becomes a rivulet and the rut of the cartwheel a running stream. Fortunately these "sunshiny" showers are of short duration. They "last only half-an-hour," instead of many hours. Fancy one of them continuing for a whole day or a week! If such were to be the case, we should witness floods as sudden and terrible as those of the tropics. The quick fall in the streams of South Africa is easily accounted for-- the principal reason being that the clouds are their feeders, and not, as with us, springs and lakes. Tropic rivers rarely run from reservoirs; the abrupt cessation of the rain cuts off their supply, and the consequence is the sudden falling of their waters. Evaporation by a hot sun, and large absorption by the dry earth, combine to produce this effect. Now the young yagers saw that the "Gareep" (such is the native name of the Orange River) had fallen many feet during the night; but they knew not whether it was yet fordable. Though the place was a "drift" used by Hottentots, Bechuanas, traders, and occasionally "trek-boors," yet none of the party knew any thing of its depth, now that the freshet was on. There were no marks to indicate the depth--no means by which they could ascertain it. They could not see the bottom, as the water was of a yellow-brown colour, in consequence of the flood. It might be three feet--it might be six--but as the current was very rapid, it would be a dangerous experiment to wade in and measure its depth in that way. What were they to do then? They were impatient to effect a crossing. How were they to do so in safety? Hendrik proposed that one of them should try the ford on horseback. If they could not wade it, they might swim over. He offered to go himself. Groot Willem, not to be outdone by Hendrik in daring, made a similar proposal. But Hans, who was the eldest of the party, and whose prudent counsels were usually regarded by all, gave his advice against this course. The experiment would be too perilous, he said. Should the water prove too deep, the horses would be compelled to swim, and with so rapid a current they might be carried far below the "drift,"--perhaps down to where the banks were high and steep. There they should not be able to climb out, and both horse and rider might perish. Besides, urged Hans, even should a rider succeed by swimming to reach the opposite side in safety, the oxen and wagons could not get over in that way, and where would be the use of crossing without _them_? None whatever. Better, therefore, to wait a little longer until they should be certain that the river had subsided to its usual level. That they could ascertain by the water ceasing to fall any further, and another day would decide the point. It would only be the loss of another day. Hans's reasoning was good, and so was his counsel. Hendrik and Groot Willem acknowledged this, and agreed to act upon it; but for all that, Groot Willem, who was longing to get among the giraffes, buffaloes, and elephants, felt a strong desire to attempt the crossing; and Hendrik, too, was similarly inclined, from the sheer love of adventure--for Hendrik's fault was that of being over-courageous. Both would have risked the river--even to swimming it--had it been practicable for the teams to have crossed, but as that was not believed possible, they agreed, though with rather a bad grace, to wait upon the water another day. But, after all, they were not to wait a day,--scarcely an hour. In an hour from that time they had crossed the drift--wagons, oxen, and all-- and were trekking over the plain on the opposite side! What had led to their so suddenly changing their resolution? How had they ascertained that the drift was fordable? For a knowledge of that fact they were indebted to Congo the Kaffir. While engaged in their discussion as to the depth of the river, the latter had been observed standing upon the bank and throwing large pebbles into the stream. Thinking it was merely some freak or superstition on the part of the savage, none of them had taken any notice of him, Swartboy excepted. The Bushman was watching the Kaffir, with glances that bespoke a keen interest in his movements. At length a loud scornful laugh, from Swartboy, accompanying a series of rather rough phrases, directed the attention of the young yagers upon the Kaffir. "My footy, Congo! ole fool you! b'lieve you tell depth so? tink so, ole skellum? Ha! ha! ha! you bania groot ole humbug! Ha! ha! ha!" The Kaffir took no notice of this rather insulting apostrophe, but continued to fling his pebbles as before; but the young yagers, who were also watching him, noticed that he was not throwing them carelessly, but in a peculiar manner, and their attention now became fixed upon him. They saw that each time as the pebble parted from his fingers, he bent suddenly forward, with his ear close to the surface, and in this attitude appeared to listen to the "plunge" of the stone! When the sound died away, he would rise erect again, fling another pebble _farther out than the last_, and then crouch and listen as before? "What's the Kaffir about?" asked Hendrik of Groot Willem and Arend, who, being his masters, were more likely to know. Neither could tell. Some Zooloo trick, no doubt; Congo knew many a one. But what he meant by his present demonstration neither could tell. Swartboy's conjecture appeared to be correct, the Kaffir was _sounding the depth of the drift_. "Hilloa, there! Congo!" cried Groot Willem. "What are ye after, old boy?" "Congo find how deep drift be, baas Willem," was the reply. "Oh! you can't tell that way; can you?" The Kaffir made answer in the affirmative. "Bah!" ejaculated Swartboy, jealous of the interest his rival was beginning to excite; "da's all nonsense; ole fool know noffin 't all 'bout it,--dat he don't." The Kaffir still took no notice of Swartboy's gibes--though they no doubt nettled him a little--but kept on casting the pebbles, each one, as already stated, being flung so as to fall several feet beyond the one that preceded it. He continued at this, until the last pebble was seen to plunge within a yard or two of the opposite side of the current, here more than a hundred yards wide. Then raising himself erect, and turning his face to the young yagers, he said in firm but respectful tones-- "Mynheeren, you drift may cross--now." All regarded him with incredulous glances. "How deep think you it is?" inquired Hans. The Kaffir made answer by placing his hands upon his hips. It would reach so high. "My footy!" exclaimed Swartboy, in derision. "It's twice dar depth. Do you want drown us, ole fool?" "May drown _you_--nobody else!" quietly replied the Kaffir, at the same time measuring Swartboy with his eye, and curling his lip in derision of the Bushman's short stature. The young yagers burst out into a loud laugh. Swartboy felt the sting, but for some moments was unable to retort. At length he found words-- "All talk, you ole black, all talk! You make groot show,--you berry wise,--you want wagon sweep off,--you want drown da poor oxen,--you pretend so deep. If tink so, go wade da drift,--go wade yourself! Ha!" Swartboy thought by this challenge he had put the finisher on the Kaffir. He believed that the latter would not dare to try the ford, in spite of his assertion about its depth. But Swartboy was doomed to disappointment and humiliation. Scarcely had he uttered the sneering challenge when the Kaffir, having bent a glance upon the rest, and seeing, that they regarded him with looks of expectation, turned round and dashed down the bank to the edge of the water. All saw that he was bent upon crossing. Several of them uttered cries of warning, and cautioned him to desist. But the Zooloo spirit was roused, and the savage did not heed the warning cries. He did not hurry madly into the current, however; but set about the business with caution and design. They saw him stoop down by the edge of the water, and the next moment rise erect again, holding in his hands a large stone that could not have weighed much less than a hundredweight. This, to the astonishment of all, he raised upon the crown of his head, and, holding it in that position, marched boldly into the water! All saw the object of his carrying the stone,--which was, of course, to enable him by its additional weight to stem the strong current! In this he was quite successful, for although the water at certain places rose quite to his waist, in less than five minutes he stood high and dry on the opposite bank. A cheer greeted him, in which all but Swartboy joined, and another received him on his return; and then the oxen were inspanned, and the horses saddled and mounted, and wagons, oxen, dogs, horses, and yagers, all crossed safely over, and continued their route northward. CHAPTER FOUR. A BRACE OF "BLACK MANES." If the young yagers had met with but few adventures south of the Gareep, they were not long north of it before they fell in with one of sufficient interest to be chronicled. It occurred at their very first camp after crossing. They had chosen for their camp the side of a "vley," in the midst of a wide plain, where there chanced to be both grass and water, though both of a rather indifferent kind. The plain was tolerably open, though here and there grew clumps of low bushes, and between these stood at intervals the dome-shaped houses of white ants--those of the _Termes mordax_--rising to the height of several feet above the surface. They had just outspanned and permitted their oxen to wander upon the grass, when the voice of Swartboy was heard exclaiming-- "De leuw! de leuw!" All looked where Swartboy pointed. There, sure enough, was a lion,--a large "schwart-fore-life," or _black-maned_ one,--right out upon the plain, and beyond the place where the oxen were browsing. There was a clump of "bosch" just behind the lion. Out of this he had come at sight of the oxen; and, having advanced a few yards, he had lain down among the grass, and was now watching the animals as a cat would a mouse, or a spider the unconscious fly. They had scarcely set their eyes upon him when another was seen issuing from the "bosch," and, with stealthy trot, running up to the side of her companion. _Her_ companion, I say, because the second was a lioness, as the absence of a mane and the tiger-like form testified. She was scarcely inferior in size to the lion, and not a bit less fierce and dangerous in any encounter she might chance to fall in with. Having joined the lion, she squatted beside him; and both now sat upon their tails, like two gigantic cats, with full front towards the camp, and evidently eyeing the oxen with hungry looks. Horses, hunters, drivers, and dogs, were all in sight; but what cared the lions for that? The tempting prey was before them, and they evidently meditated an attack,--if not just then, whenever the opportunity offered. Most certainly they contemplated supping either upon ox-beef or horse-flesh. Now these were the first lions that had been encountered upon the expedition. "Spoor" had been seen several times, and the terrible roar had been heard once or twice around the night-camp; but the "king of beasts" now appeared for the first time _in propria persona_, with his queen along with him, and of course his presence was productive of no small excitement in the yager camp. It must not be denied that this excitement partook largely of the nature of a "panic." The first fear of the hunters was for their own skins, and in this both Bushman and Kaffir equally shared. After a time, however, this feeling subsided. The lions would not attack the camp. They do so only on very rare occasions. It was the camp _animals_ they were after, and so long as these were present, they would not spring upon their owners. So far there was no danger, and our yagers recovered their self-possession. But it would not do to let the carnivorous brutes destroy their oxen,-- that would not do. Something must be done to secure them. A kraal must be made at once, and the animals driven into it. The lions lay quietly on the plain, though still in a menacing attitude. But they were a good way off--full five hundred yards--and were not likely to attack the oxen so close to the camp. The huge wagons--strange sight to them--no doubt had the effect of restraining them for the present. They either waited until the oxen should browse nearer, or till night would enable them to approach the latter unobserved. As soon, then, as it was perceived that they were not bent upon an immediate attack, Groot Willem and Hendrik mounted their horses, rode cautiously out beyond the oxen, and quietly drove the latter to the other side of the vley. There they were herded by Klaas and Jan; while all the rest, Swartboy and Congo included, went to work with axe and bill-hook in the nearest thicket of "wait-a-bit" thorns. In less than half-an-hour a sufficient number of bushes were cut to form, with the help of the wagons, a strong kraal; and inside this, both horses and oxen were driven,--the former made fast to the wheel-spokes, while the latter were clumped up loosely within the enclosure. The hunters now felt secure. They had kindled a large fire on each side of the kraal, though they knew that this will not always keep lions off. But they trusted to their guns; and as they would sleep inside the canvass tents of their wagons, closing both "voor" and "achter-claps," they had nothing to fear. It would be a hungry lion, indeed, that would have attempted to break the strong kraal they had made; and no lion, however hungry, would ever think of charging into a wagon. Having made all secure, therefore, they seated themselves around one of their fires, and set about cooking their dinner, or rather dinner-supper, for it was to include both meals. Their journey prevented them from dining earlier. They chanced to have little else than _biltong_, or dried meat, to cook. The long wait by the drift had consumed their stock of fine springbok venison, which they had laid in some days before. It is true they had venison in camp, but it was that of the "reitbok," or reed-buck--so called from its habit of frequenting the long reeds by the banks of rivers; and it was while they were journeying through a belt of these after crossing the drift, that this one had been shot by Hendrik. A small antelope the reitbok is--the _Antilope eleotragus_ of naturalists. It stands less than three feet in height, formed much like the springbok, but with a rougher coat of hair, of an ashy grey colour, and silver white underneath. Its horns, however, are not lyrate, as in the springbok, but rise first in the plane of its forehead, and then curve boldly forward to the tips. They are about twelve inches in length, wrinkled at the base, prominently ringed in the middle, and smooth near the points. The reitbok, as its name implies, inhabits the reedy bottoms by the margins of streams and rivers, and its food consists of plants growing in humid and marshy situations. Hence its flesh is inferior to that of most South African antelopes, and it was not a favourite with the young yagers. Although it had been brought along, they preferred even the dry biltong, and it was left to the less delicate appetites of Swartboy and Congo. Now the hunters, Hendrik and Groot Willem, would have gone out to look for a springbok, or some other game, but the presence of the lions prevented that; and so the boys were obliged to content themselves with a slice of the biltong; and each, having cut him a short stick for a spit, set about broiling his piece over the coals. During all this time the lion and lioness kept the position they had taken on the plain, scarce once having changed their attitude. They were waiting patiently the approach of night. Groot Willem and Hendrik had both advised making an attack upon them; but in this case they again gave way to the more prudent counsel of Hans, strengthened, perhaps, by his reminding them of the instructions they had received from both their fathers at setting out. These instructions were,--never to attack a lion without good reason for so doing, but always to give the "ole leuw" a wide berth when it was possible to do so. It is well known that the lion will rarely attack man when not first assailed; and therefore the advice given to the young yagers was sound and prudent? and they followed it. It wanted yet an hour or two of sunset. The lions still sat squatted on the grass, closely observed by the hunters. All at once the eyes of the latter became directed upon a new object. Slowly approaching over the distant plain, appeared two strange animals, similar in form, and nearly so in size and colour. Each was about the size of an ass, and not unlike one in colour,--especially that variety of the ass which is of a buff or fulvous tint. Their forms, however, were more graceful than that of the ass, though they were far from being light or slender. On the contrary, they were of a full, round, bold outline. They were singularly marked about the head and face. The ground colour of these parts was white, but four dark bands were so disposed over them as to give the animals the appearance of wearing a headstall of black leather. The first of these bands descended in a streak down the forehead; another passed through the eyes to the corners of the mouth; a third embraced the nose; while a fourth ran from the base of the ears passing under the throat--a regular throat-strap--thus completing the resemblance to the stall-halter. A reversed mane, a dark list down the back, and a long black bushy tail reaching to the ground, were also characters to be observed. But what rendered these animals easily to be distinguished from all others was the splendid pair of horns which each carried. These horns were straight, slender, pointing backwards almost horizontally. They were regularly ringed till within a few inches of their tips, which were as sharp as steel spits. In both they were of a deep jet colour, shining like ebony, and full three feet in length. But what was rather singular, the horns of the smaller animal--for there was some difference in their size--were longer than those of the larger one! The former was the female, the latter the male, therefore the horns of the female were more developed than those of the male--an anomaly among animals of the antelope tribe, for antelopes they were. The young yagers had no difficulty in distinguishing their kind. At the first glance they all recognised the beautiful "oryx," one of the loveliest animals of Africa, one of the fairest creatures in the world. CHAPTER FIVE. LIONS STALKING THE GEMSBOK. On seeing the "gemsbok"--for by such name is the oryx known to the Cape colonists--the first thought of the young yagers was how they should kill or capture one of them. Beautiful as these creatures looked upon the plain, our hunters would have fancied them better on the spit--for they well knew that the venison of the gemsbok is delicious eating--not surpassed by that of any other antelope, the eland perhaps excepted. The first thought of the yagers, then, was a steak of gemsbok venison for dinner. It might throw their dinner a little later, but it would be so much of a better one than dry biltong, that they were willing to wait. The slices of jerked meat, already half-broiled, were at once put aside, and guns were grasped in the place of roasting-sticks. What was the best course to be pursued? That was the next question. It would scarce be possible to stalk the gemsboks. They are among the most wary of antelopes. They rarely approach near any cover that might shelter an enemy; and when alarmed they strike off in a straight line, and make for the open desert plains--their natural home. To stalk them, is a most difficult thing, and rarely attempted by the hunter. They can only be captured by a swift horse, and after a severe chase. Even from the swiftest horse they often make their escape; for in the first burst of a mile or two they can run like the wind. A good horse, however, has more "bottom" than they, and if well managed will in time overtake them. The hunters having seized their guns, next thought of their horses. Should they saddle and ride out after the gemsboks? That would have been their course at once, and without further consideration, had they not observed that the antelopes were coming directly towards them. If they continued in the same course much longer, they, the yagers, need not stir from the spot. The game would approach within shot and save them the trouble of a chase. This would be very agreeable, as the hunters were hungry, and their horses tired after a hard day's journeying. There was some probability that the gemsboks would give them the chance they wished for. The camp was well hidden among the bushes. The smoke of the fire alone showed its situation, but the antelopes might not perceive this, or if so, might not regard it as a thing to be feared. Besides, as Groot Willem and Hendrik observed, the vley was close by, and both believed the antelopes were on their way to the water. The student Hans, however, corrected them in this belief, by telling them that the oryx is an animal _that never drinks_,--that it is quite independent of springs, streams, or vleys,--one of those creatures which Nature has formed to dwell in the desert, where no water exists! It was not likely then that the gemsboks were coming to the vley. The hunters need make no calculation on that. At all events, they were certainly approaching the camp. They were heading straight for it, and were already less than a thousand yards from the spot. There would scare be time to saddle before they should come within shot, or else start off alarmed at the appearance of the smoke. The hunters, therefore, gave up all thoughts of a chase; and, crouching forward to the outer edge of the grove, they knelt down behind the bushes to await the approach of the antelopes. The latter still kept steadily on, apparently unconscious of danger. Surely they had not yet perceived the smoke, else they would have shown symptoms either of curiosity or alarm! The wind was blowing in the same direction in which they marched, or their keen sense of smell would have warned them of the dangerous proximity of the hunter's camp. But it did not; and they continued with slow but unaltered pace to approach the spot, where no less than six dark muzzles--a full battery of small arms--were waiting to give them a volley. It was not the destiny of either of the gemsboks to die by a leaden bullet. Death, sudden and violent awaited them, though not from the hand of man. It was to come from a different quarter. As the yagers lay watching the approach of the antelopes, their eyes had wandered for a moment from the lions; but a movement on the part of these again drew attention to them. Up to a certain period they had remained in an upright attitude, squatted upon their tails, but all at once they were observed to crouch flat down, as if to conceal themselves under the grass, while their heads were turned in a new direction. They were turned towards the gemsboks. They had caught sight of the latter as they approached over the plain; and it was evident that they contemplated an attack upon them. Now if the antelopes continued on in the same course, it would carry them quite clear of the lions, so that the latter would have no advantage. A gemsbok can soon scour off from a lion, as the latter is at best but a poor runner, and
{'title': 'The Young Yagers: A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa by Reid', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}