Tales from the Veld Part 16

"They were friends, then, after all?"

"You wait, sonny--jes' keep still an' wait. Arter a time they began to talk. Then it came out that the half-caste was on some mission from the head chief, and the young chap was mighty curious to know all about it; but the half-caste he were too slim. They jes' paced roun' each other like a couple o' strange dogs. At the end the chief he up and say, 'I know where you're going.' 'Soh?' said the half-caste. 'Yes,' said the chief, 'you're going to the white man's camp to give the white chief news of our coming.' Well, the half-caste he spat in the fire. 'You are a boy,' he said; 'your place is at home with the women.' 'My place is with you,' said the young chief, speaking soft, so that the other laughed in his throat, and called the chief _quedin_--'boy'--again, which you know is the easiest word to rile a Kaffir. 'I know, in your heart,' said the boy, 'you will sell us for the white man's money.' The half-caste spat again. 'Oh, yes,' he said, 'the white men are in terror of you--a warrior like you would be worth a whole goat to them.' 'I am Sandili,' said the lad, 'son of the head chief, and one day the Amakosa will do my bidding.' The half-caste giv' a start; then he grew soft all of a sudden. 'I was but trying you,' he said. 'Oh, chief, forget my words, and take the path with me in the morning. We will find out where the red-coats are, how many of them, and what road they take, so that we can report to your father, and plans can be made to trap them.' I could hear the hiss of a snake in the man's speech, sonny; and it struck me then he had, in his heart, determined to take the young chief Sandili to the English colonel."

"It was really Sandili?"

"It were, an' no mistake. I could a' shot him then, an' put a stop to two wars; but a good many things could be done, sonny, if only we could see ahead. Well, for all they'd made friends, those two didn't trust one another--not a bit, not they--they jes' sat there glancing acrost the coals, nodding, an' wakin' up with a start, and when one on 'em moved t'other would have his eyes wide open. Long before sun-up they moved off, an' I crep' outer my hidin' place to the fire, where I found jes' a coal-blackened strip o' meat that jes' made me hungrier than afore. Lor' love you, a human is a helpless crittur. There was animiles about an' birds, but as I darn't use my gun I couldn't get one.

I cotched a salamander and ate him, an' a land crab by the stream, an'

ate him--an' I ate some berries, an' a clutch o' young birds from the nest, and I had a bathe--and took up the spoor of the two of 'em. 'Twas easier spoorin' now, for they was going slow, and at mid-day I had 'em in sight, and so kep' 'em till the last. In the afternoon we were climbing a ridge among the bushes, when boomin' along there came the sound of music that brought the three of us to a dead stop. Never had young Abe yeard any sound like that afore or since 'cept once--it went through my worn-out body until I trembled like a leaf--yes, sonny--and the wet ran down my cheeks. 'Twas the soun' of a big drum."

"There's not much music in that, Abe."

"Isn't there, sonny? Not when you've been three days in the woods, skeered of every shadder; not when you've yeard the war-cry of the red Kaffir; not when the cries of the little ones waitin' for the a.s.segai are ringin' in yer head. Only the soun' of a drum. One, big boomin'

note, rolling clear an' far with a message of help. The tiredness an'

the sickness fell from me, sonny, an' I could a' run up that hill. The other two they crept up presently, and bymby I follered and hid behind 'em. They was crouchin' by a rock, lookin' down, and I forgot 'em in lookin' at the picture. Far below in the valley was the white tents, an' the cattle, an' a line of red where the soldiers were drawn up, bayonets flas.h.i.+ng. Then a troop of men on horseback rode down the line, and again the drums beat and the bugles rang out. It was a picture, sonny, that I could a' looked at all day, but I were jes' jerked out o'

my spell o' dreamin' by the chief talkin'."

"'Yoh,' he said, 'they are few, but what noise is that?'

"'Tis their witch-music,' said the half-caste; ''tis kep' in a big box, and when the man hits the top of it with a stick the witch cries out what they should do.' 'Yoh!' said the chief, 'I will kill the box!

They are great warriors, these, but they are foolish to wear a red so bright, that no man of them can hide.' 'They do not hide,' said the half-caste, and he s.h.i.+fted his gun as he looked at the chief from the corner of his eyes. 'Let us go.' 'Nay,' said the chief, 'it is a good sight this--stay a little while. Why do they move about so?' 'It's their war-dance, and he on the white horse is the chief. At his words they turn and stop, break up, and come together.' The young chief watched like a dog straining at the leash--and, by gum, he yeard the colonel's commands, though never a sound reached me. A smart Kaffir can smell, and see, and hear like a animile. 'Yoh!' he said; 'listen to his words!'--and in his excitement he raised his head, and the half-caste he stood back and lifted his gun. But he measured his distance to the camp, and he said, 'Let us get nearer'--for why, the cuss wanted to be near help when he went for the chief. The chief looked round, and, ghoisters! he seed my face stickin' outer a bush. He jumped to his feet and drew back his arm to fly the a.s.segai, but the half-caste, after one glance at me, dropped his gun, seized the haft of the a.s.segai with one hand and hooked his other arm round the chief's neck. 'It was a good word you spoke, _quedin_,' he said, hissing as he struggled with the boy. 'I will sell you to the white man.' Seein' how it was, I stepped out, and as I went up I seed the chief's eyes rollin', while his nostrils were blowed out like a horse. 'I am a boy,' he said; 'I give in.' The half-caste he laughed, turnin' to me whiles he called out in Dutch that it was he who took the _quedin_ prisoner, but he'd give me somethin' if I helped him--the skunk, the blanged, mangy, yeller dog.

Well, sonny, that Kaffir were shamming. Soon's he give in, the half-caste he loosed his hold, when, with a grunt, the Kaffir yanked his a.s.segai away, and with a wriggle o' his naked body he got a length and struck the half-caste under the armpit. 'Dog,' he said, and druv' his a.s.segai in over the blade. The half-caste he jes' went green. '_Ek 'es dood_,' he said, lookin' at me; then he sat down all of a heap. The young chief he stood there eyein' me like a tiger, with his lips curled back and his chest heavin'. It was the first man he'd killed, I guess.

Well, I lifted the gun, but the left hand gave out and the barrel wobbled--then, I dunno why, but I begin to laugh in a foolish way, an' I kep' on laughin' whiles the Kaffir came crouchin' up with his a.s.segai held back. Nex' thing I seed the half-caste roll over, and then sit up and point his gun at the boy's back. 'Pa.s.s op,' I said 'mid the laughin', while the sweat was drippin' off my nose; and the chief he jumped aside as tho' there was a snake in his way, and the bullet whizzed by him. The half-caste gave a groan and rolled over dead, out of hate and disappointment, 'cause he'd missed. That's so. The chief he looked at me, an' he looked at the soldiers who were hurrying up from down below, then he jes' turned and walked away; yes, he jes' walked away with his head up, and I could a' shot him--for the laughin' fit had pa.s.sed away. But before he could ha' killed me easy as sticking a pig, so I watched him go; an' when he reached the bush he said, lookin' over his shoulder, 'Grow fat, man who laughs, an' you will be food for my a.s.segai.' The cheek of these young bucks; but I reckon, sonny, if he'd a' known I'd killed two of his men in the Chumie he wouldn't a' waited, for all I was like a shadder."

"Is that all?" I said, when the old man paused.

"Well, it were enuff, wern't it?"

"What did the Colonel say?"

"Oh, the Colonel! He said, 'Who the devil are you, an' where the blazes you come from?' That's what _he_ said, that time; but 'twern't long afore he changed the tune of his remarks. 'Who the devil are you, and where the blazes you come from?' he sed, sittin' in his tent with his officers by him; an' I jes' reached over to a black square bottle that was ahind him and put the neck to my mouth."

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE RED DIAMOND.

Our big Christmas hunt was in full swing. In a smooth, well-carpeted glade, surrounded by forest trees and bush, the three tent wagons of the party were outspanned, drawn up in a hollow square which formed a capacious outside room, roofed in by a wide stretch of canvas. From the spreading branches of a yellow-wood hung the last day's 'bag,'

consisting of seven bushbucks, two duikers, three blaauwboks, one jackal, and a wild dog. Beyond the wagons was the servants' fire, and the 'boys' themselves were 'brying' meat and talking, as only Kaffirs can talk when the day's work is over and food is plentiful. In our 'scherm' one lantern swung from the centre pole, its light just sufficient to mark out the position of the brown demijohn on the box that served as a table; while across the breadth of darkness, where the 'scherm' opened to the wood, fireflies crossed and circled. The quiet of the night was over the bush, intensified by the deep undertone from the sea, and the brooding spirit in time reduced us to silence, even stilling Long Jim's concertina, whose lugubrious notes had in the early hours of the evening wailed complainingly over "The Old Camp Ground,"

"Poor Old Joe," and other old favourites.

"I envy you fellows," said Mr Strong, a crack shot from the town; "we don't get such nights as this."

"The boot's on the other foot," said Long Jim, making his instrument moan. "We've got poverty and pumpkins. You've got comfort and a pianny." And he pumped out "Hard times come again no more" till a dog pointed its nose to the sky and howled in sympathy.

"There's no chance of making a pile in the country," said Amos Topper, who raised ten acres of "forage" regularly every season, and "rode"

firewood for a living in the balance of the year. "'Tis all hard work and disappointment--ticks in the cattle and rust in the corn."

"Soh!" said Abe Pike.

"Well; so it is!"

"Yet," said Abe, "there's chances."

"Meanin' pine-apples and bananas, which d.i.c.k Purdy made a fortune out of through growing them on the slope of a valley."

"No; meanin' diamonds."

"There's no diamonds down here."

"Is that so? Well, I seed one right here, as big as a plum an' as red as the eye of a coal gleamin' outer the dark. Yes, sir."

"Of course. It belonged to some digger from the field. For the matter of that, I've seen a whole bucketful of them, but then they was white, and the sight of 'em never made me any the richer."

"Your head was allus too big for your hat, Amos. I expect that's why there's a hole in the crown of it for your hair to grow through--but it so happens this yer diamon' I'm speakin' of could ha' been gathered by anyone who had the pluck to grab it."

"Fire ahead, old man," I said, seeing that Abe was preparing the way for a yarn.

"You've hit it, sonny," said Abe solemnly; "it was fire-ahead, and no mistake. Lemme see; you know ole Harkins, the mad trader?"

"I remember him," said Mr Strong, "a fine hunter in his youth, who returned from his last trip into the interior broken by the Zambesi fever. He had a suspicion that everyone was watching him, and I believe he died in the bush after leading the life of a hermit."

"That's him," said Abe, pulling at his pipe until the glow lit up his lined face. "Yes, he went into the bush--and for three years he hunted for that same red diamond. Some people thought he was crazy--so he were crazy after a fortune, but lor' bless yer, he'd got all his wits about him, and the fortune was big enough to buy up the whole side of this district--houses, land and stock--which is a big enough haul to turn the minds of most of us. One night, many years ago, I was still-huntin'

buffel by the Kowie bush, when from the thick of the wood I yeard a noise that sent me up a tree in a jif--a shrill sort o' scream that I couldn't fix--an' whiles I was up the tree I seed ole Harkins slippin'

along through the moon light. He stood under the tree listenin', and then he began talkin' to hisself in jerks. 'That's him, I swear!' he said, 'and by G.o.d I'll have him or die!'

"I jes' kep' quiet, for I tell you I didn't like the look o' him, with his long hair, and his lean fingers, and burnin' eyes, but when he slipped along inter the wood like a shadder--for there the no boots on his feet--I skimmed down and let out after him with my heart in my mouth. I guess I hadn't got much sense, and when I'd gone no more'n fifty paces inter the dark of the trees he grabbed me by the throat-- afore I knew where he were. Oh, lor'! He jes' grabbed me by the throat and shook me. 'You're follerin' me!' he hissed.

"Of course, I couldn't speak, but I kicked and spluttered, and he loosened his hold. 'You're follerin' me!' he said, stickin' his face close up. 'I ain't,' I said; 'I'm after buffel.' 'You yeard it,' he hissed; 'and you meant to rob me.' Well, I laughed. The idea of robbing a scarecrow like him was too much, and I couldn't help laughing, not though he looked as savage as a starved tiger. All the property he carried were a big-bore elephant gun, and I noticed the trigger were c.o.c.ked. 'Clear out,' he said; 'and if I see you after me I'll kill you.' By gum, he meant it, and I cleared out smart with him after me over the ridge, when once ag'in there came that strange cry from the woods, so near this time that I jumped inter a bush. Well, there were a smas.h.i.+n' o' trees, and afore I knew what was up a bit of the country rose up and came rolling down through the moonlight. Man alive--it were a thunderation bull elephant, and I slipped outer the bush and bolted for hum with Harkins's yell a-ringing in my ears. Well, sir, whiles I was sittin' in the room gettin' back my wind, up along, in a flurry, came Sam Dale. 'It's true,' said he, with a gasp, as he flung open the door. 'What's true?' 'Yes,' he said, 'I seed it. I were crossing the drift in Euphorby Valley when I yeard a splash in the pool, and out of the dark end beneath the krantz I seed a glow of red. First I thought it were a eye, but then I noted how it sparkled, and all in a breath it struck me it were ole Harkins's diamond. Then there was a splash in the water, and I ran on here to ask you to help me kill the crittur.' 'Hol'

on,' I said; 'what the blazes are you talking about? I never yeard of any diamond, and I'm not killing any crittur to-night,' I said. Well, Sam Dale he up and tole me how Harkins had courted his sister years before, and how his sister had told him, unbeknown to Harkins, how she had seen the big red diamond he kep' in his pocket, which he had bought from a Kaffir chief. And Sam, he told me a most surprisin' story, how Harkins being one night cornered by a animile in the wood had loaded his big rifle with that same diamond instead of a bullet--and how he had fired it into that animile--and how he went crazy in consequence.

That's what Sam tole me that very night arter I had met Harkins hisself, and it wern't more'n a minute afore I seed that if there was any truth in that yarn the red diamon' was in that bull elephant. Sam and me we talked and talked, until in the early morning we fixed up a company."

"What did you do?"

"We made a company--that's what--the Dale-Pike Diamon' Mining Company, but lor' bless yer, in the morning the whole thing seemed so blamed ridiklus that we guv up the idea. All the same, Sam he went down to Euphorby Drift, and I smoused over to the old spot where I seed the elephant, and blow me--there was ole Harkins flattened out Yes, sir. He were."

"What ailed him?"

"He were dead--that's all. That bull elephant must have charged him down soon's I cleared off. We reckoned, Sam and me, that as Harkins were dead that diamon' mine b'longed to us, and we started that company over again. It was quite reg'lar. Sam he studied up a prospectus, and fixed up a capital, he subscribin' two trek oxen, an' me a cow, a bull calf, and a pair o' gobblers. The hull lot came to 16 pounds, and with that we laid in a stock o' powder, lead, blankets, boots, coffee, sugar, tabak, an' a demijohn o' Cango. Then we shut up our homes, both on us being bachelors, and started after that ere blasted bull elephant."

"I thought you were after a diamond?"

"You ain't got any more thinking machine than a biled rabbit, Sam Topper. That bull elephant were the diamon' mine, in course."

"How was that?"

"Ain't I tole you? Why, when Harkins made that mistake and fired off that diamon' it went plump into the ole bull. I seed that as soon's Sam Dale told me the yarn, and we started after that property of ourn. That was forty-five year ago, and I guess from the size of his right tusk, the left been broken off, he were then about one hundred years old. I tell you what, chaps, that diamon's still knocking aroun' in the Addo bush."