The Settler and the Savage by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best e reader for epub .txt) 📕

evidently right in his conjecture, for, as they drew near the cliff, the black man looked over his shoulder once or twice and slackened his pace. The next moment he gave a shout which proved to be a signal, for two of the robbers sprang out from the bushes and seized Considine, almost before he had seen them. Vigorously he struggled, and would perhaps have thrown off both, had not the man he had been chasing turned and run to aid the others.

Quickly but steadily Van Dyk raised his gun and covered this man. Next moment the muzzle was struck aside, the ball flew harmlessly into the jungle, and the hunter was pinioned, overthrown, and rendered helpless by four of the robbers, who had been watching his motions all the time.

Van Dyk was not taken much by surprise. He knew that such danger was probable, and had done his best to avoid it. With that self-command which a life of constant danger in the woods had taught him, he bowed to the inevitable, and quietly submitted to be bound and led away.

Mean while Ruyter, for it was he who had been chased, came up in time to assist in securing his victim.

"What, Ruyter, is it you?" exclaimed Considine in amazement.

When the robber-chief became aware who he had captured, an expression of deep annoyance or regret crossed his face, but it quickly passed into one of stern almost sulky determination, as he ordered the two men, in Dutch, to make the bonds secure. He deigned no reply to the prisoner's question. He did not even appear to recognise him, but strode on in front, while the two robbers drove the youth up into the rocky fastnesses of the mountains.

That night our hero found himself seated in the deepest recesses of a cavern by the side of his comrade Van Dyk. The arms of both were firmly bound behind their backs, but their legs were free, their captors knowing well that a scramble among such giddy and rugged heights without the use of the hands was impossible. In the centre of the cavern sat the robbers round a small fire on which some of them were cooking a few scraps of meat.

"A pretty mess you've led yourself and me into, young fellow!" said the hunter sternly.

"Indeed I have," replied Considine, with a very penitent air, "and I would give or do anything to undo the mischief."

"Ja--always the same with wild-caps like you," returned the other,--"ready to give anything when you've got nothing, and to do anything when you're helpless. How much easier it would have been to have given a little heed and shown a little common sense when you had the chance!"

There was a touch of bitterness, almost fierceness, in the hunter's tone, which, knowing the man's kindly nature, Considine could not quite understand.

"Do you know what them reptiles there are saying?" continued Van Dyk after a brief pause.

"No, their language is mere gibberish to me."

"They're discussin' the best method of puttin' us out of existence," said the hunter, with a grim smile. "Some of 'em want to cut our throats at once and have done with it; some would like to torture us first; others are in favour of hangin', but all agree that we must be killed to prevent our tellin' the whereabouts of their hiding-place up here,--all except one, the one you gave chase to this afternoon. He advises 'em to let us go, but he don't seem very earnest about it."

"I think I know the reason of his favouring us," said Considine, with a look of hope.

"Indeed?"

"Yes; he once journeyed with me from Capetown to the karroo, and probably he feels a touch of regard for his old travelling companion."

"H'm! I wouldn't give much for his regard," growled Van Dyk. "The reed is slender, but it's the only one we have to lean on now. However, we've got a reprieve, for I heard 'em say just now that they'll delay executing us till to-morrow, after reaching one of their other and safer retreats in the mountains."

The prisoners were put into a smaller cave, close to the large one, that night. Their bonds were made more secure, and, as an additional precaution, their legs were tied. Two men were also appointed to guard the entrance of their prison.

About midnight the camp was perfectly still, and the only sounds that broke the silence were the tinkling of a neighbouring rill and the footfall of the sentinels. Van Dyk and Considine were lying uneasily on the bare ground, and thinking of the tragic fate that awaited them on the morrow, when they observed the dim figure of a man approaching from the innermost end of the cavern with a drawn knife in his right hand. Both started up and leant on their elbows; more than this they could not do. They felt some alarm, it is true, but both came to the same conclusion--that it is foolish to cry out before you are hurt.

The figure bent over Van Dyk, and whispered in his ear. Next moment the hunter stood on his feet with his limbs free.

"You were right, young sir," he said to Considine as he stooped over him and cut his bonds; "there _is_ a touch of humanity in the rascally Hottentot after all. Come; he bids us follow him. Knows a secret passage out o' the cave, no doubt."

The black-bearded huntsman turned as he spoke, and followed the dim figure, which melted into the depths of the cavern as if it had been a spirit. A few minutes' gliding through darkness tangible, and they found themselves in the open air among thick bushes. Though the night was very dark there was sufficient light to enable Considine to see the glittering of white teeth close to his face, as a voice whispered in broken English--"You's better tink twice when you try for to chases Tottie next time! Go; Van Dyk, him's old hand in de bush, will guide you safe."

Before morning Considine was back in Conrad Marais' parlour, relating his adventures among the Bergenaars with a half-belief that the whole affair was nothing more than a romantic dream.


CHAPTER FIFTEEN.


TREATS OF THE ZUURVELD AGAIN, AND ONE OR TWO SURPRISING INCIDENTS.

Seated one evening at the door of their dug-out hut or cavern on the banks of the river, the three brothers Skyd discussed the affairs of the colony and smoked their pipes.

"Never knew such a country," said John Skyd, "never!"

"Abominable!" observed James.

"Detestable!" remarked Robert.

"Why don't you Skyd-addle then?" cried Frank Dobson. "If I thought it as bad as you do, I'd leave it at once. But you are unjust."

"Unjust!" echoed John Skyd; "that were impossible. What could be worse? Here have we been for three years, digging and ploughing, raking and hoeing, carting and milking, churning and--and--and what the better are we now? Barely able to keep body and soul together, with the rust ruining our wheat, and an occasional Kafir raid depriving us of our cattle, while we live in a hole on the river's bank like rabbits; with this disadvantage over these facetious creatures, that we have more numerous wants and fewer supplies."

"That's so," said Bob; "if we could only content ourselves with a few bulbous roots and grass all would be well, but, Frank, we sometimes want a little tea and sugar; occasionally we run short of tobacco; now and then we long for literature; coffee sometimes recurs to memory; at rare intervals, especially when domestic affairs go wrong, the thought of woman, as of a long-forgotten being of angelic mould, _will_ come over us. Ah! Frank, it is all very well for you to smile, you who have been away enjoying yourself for months past hunting elephants and other small game in the interior, but you have no notion how severely our failures are telling on our spirits. Why, Jim there tried to make a joke the other day, and it was so bad that Jack immediately went to bed with a sick-headache."

"True," said Jack solemnly, "quite true, and I couldn't cure that headache for a whole day, though I took a good deal of Cape-smoke before it came on, as well as afterwards."

"But, my dear chums," remonstrated Dobson, "is it not--"

"Now don't ask, `Is it not your own fault?' with that wiseacre look of yours," said John Skyd, testily tapping the bowl of his pipe on a stone preparatory to refilling it. "We are quite aware that we are not faultless; that we once or twice have planted things upside down, or a yard too deep, besides other little eccentricities of ignorance; but such errors are things of the past, and though we now drive our drills as straight as once, heigho! we ruled our account-books, things don't and won't improve."

"If you had not interrupted me, Jack, you might have spared much breath and feeling. I was about to say, Is it not a fact that many of the other settlers are beginning to overcome their difficulties though you are not? True, it has now been found that the wheat crops, on which we at first expected almost entirely to depend, have for three seasons proved an entire failure, and sheep do not thrive on our sour grass pasturage, though they seem to have done admirably with the Scotch at Baviaans River; but have not many of those around us been successful in raising rye, barley, oats, and Indian corn? have they not many herds of healthy cattle? are not pumpkins and potatoes thriving pretty well, and gardens beginning to flourish? Our roasted barley makes very fair coffee, and honey is not a bad substitute for sugar."

"You have made a successful bag this trip, I see, by your taking such a healthy view of our circumstances," said Bob.

"Yes, I've done very well," returned Dobson; "and I find the hunter's life so congenial, and withal so profitable, that I'm really thinking of adopting it as a profession. And that brings me to the object of my visit here to-night. The fact is, my dear fellows, that men of your genius are not fit for farmers. It takes quiet-going men of sense to cultivate the soil. If you three were to live and dig to the age of Methuselah you'd never make a living out of it."

"That's plain speaking," said John, with a nod, "and I agree with you entirely."

"I mean to speak plainly," rejoined Dobson, "and now what I propose is, that you should give it up and join me in the ivory business. It will pay, I assure you."

Here their friend entered into a minute and elaborate account of his recent hunting expedition, and imparted to John Skyd some of his own enthusiasm, but James and Robert shook their heads. Leaving them to think over his proposal, their friend went to make a call on the Brooks of Mount Hope.

"Drat that boy! he's escaped again, and after mischief I'll be bound!" was the first sound that saluted him as he walked towards the house. It was Mrs Scholtz's voice, on the other side of the hedge with which the garden was surrounded. The remark was immediately followed by a piercing shriek from the nurse, who