Off to the Wilds Part 3

"Up with you then, my boys, and have a canter."

"Without a saddle, father?" said d.i.c.k, nervously.

Jack was already up.

"Have it saddled if you like, my boy," said Mr Rogers, kindly.

But d.i.c.k flushed, gave a spring from the ground, and was on the little cob's back.

They were both skilled riders, but d.i.c.k's illness made him timorous at times. He, however, fought hard to master his weakness; and when Jack cried, "Come on, d.i.c.k; let's race to the big tree and back," he stuck his knees into the cob's plump sides and away they went, with the wind rus.h.i.+ng by their ears, and the cobs keeping neck and neck, rounding the big tree about a mile away on the plain, and then making the dusty earth rise in clouds as they tore back, and were checked with a touch of the bridle by the home field.

"Why, d.i.c.k, my boy, I would not wish to see a better seat on a horse,"

cried Mr Rogers, patting the cobs in turn. "Jack, you set up your back like a jockey. Sit more upright, my boy."

"All right, father; I'll try," said Jack, throwing himself right forward so as to hug his cob's neck. "But I say, father, isn't he lovely? I felt all the time as if I was a bit of him, or we were all one."

"You looked like it, my boy," said Mr Rogers, smiling in his son's animated face. "I wish d.i.c.k had your confidence, and you a little more of his style."

"All right, father, we'll try and exchange a bit a-piece," laughed Jack.

"But I can't half believe it, father, that these are to be our own horses."

"You may believe it, then," said his father. "And now get them to the stable."

"Oh, I say, d.i.c.k, what beauties!" cried Jack. "What shall you call yours?"

"I don't know yet," replied his brother. "He's very fast. `Swift'

wouldn't be a bad name; and we might call yours `Sure.'"

"Hum! I don't think much of those names. Hold up!" he continued, examining the hoofs of his brother's nag. "I say, d.i.c.k, what fine thick shoes he has got."

"That's a good suggestion," said d.i.c.k, laughing, and looking brighter than he had seemed for weeks. "Let's call him `Shoes,' and his brother with the white legs `Stockings.'"

"Shoes and Stockings!" cried Jack; "but those are such stupid names. I don't know though but what they'll do."

The question was not discussed, for the lads busied themselves in bedding down their own horses; and for the rest of that, day the stable seemed to be the most important part of the house.

CHAPTER THREE.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY.

"What is it ye're doing?" said Dinny, a day or two before that proposed for the start.

Coffee and Chicory looked up from their task, grinned, and then went on sharpening the points of a couple of a.s.segais upon a heavy block of stone, which they had evidently brought from a distance. Their faces glistened with perspiration; their knees were covered with dust; and they were in a wonderful state of excitement. Resuming their work on the instant, they tried to bring the weapons to a keen point.

"Kill lion," said Coffee, laconically; and he worked away as if the lion were round the corner waiting to be killed.

"Then ye may just as well lave off, ye dirty little naygars; for it's my belafe that you're not going at all."

Dinny went off into the house leaving the two boys apparently paralysed.

They dropped the a.s.segais, stared at each other, and then lay down and howled in the misery of their disappointment.

But this did not last many seconds; for Coffee sprang up and kicked Chicory, who also rose to his feet, and in obedience to a word from his brother they took their a.s.segais and hid them in a tree which formed their armoury--for out of its branches Chicory took the two kiris or clubs; and then the boys ran round to the front, and stood making signs.

The brothers had such a keen love of anything in the way of sport that, expecting something new, they ran out and willingly followed the two young blacks out into the gra.s.sy plain about a mile from the house, when after posting their young masters behind a bush, Coffee and Chicory whispered to them to watch, and then began to advance cautiously through the gra.s.s, kiri in hand, their eyes glistening as they keenly peered from side to side.

"What are they going to do?" said d.i.c.k.

"I don't know. Show us something. I wish we had brought our guns.

Look out!"

There was a whirring of wings, and the two Zulu boys struck att.i.tudes that would have been models for a sculptor; then as a large bird similar to a partridge rose up, Coffee sent his k.n.o.bbed club whizzing through the air; another bird rose, and Chicory imitated his brother's act; and the result was, that the cleverly thrown kiris. .h.i.t the birds, which fell in amongst the long gra.s.s, from which they were retrieved by the lads with shouts of triumph--the birds proving to be the coranne, so called from the peculiarity of their cry.

"Well done, boys!" cried Jack. "They'll be good eating."

"Boss d.i.c.k, Boss Jack take Zulu boys, now?" said the kiri-throwers, eagerly.

"Why, of course. You know you are going," replied d.i.c.k.

"Dinny say Zulu boys not going," cried Chicory.

"Then Dinny knows nothing about it," said d.i.c.k, angrily. "If he don't mind he'll be left behind himself."

Coffee sent his kiri spinning up in the air, Chicory followed suit, each catching the weapon again with ease; and then they both dashed off across the plain as if mad, and to the astonishment of the brothers, who took the brace of birds and walked back towards the house, to continue the preparations for the start.

For there was so much to do, packing the great long tilted waggon with necessaries, in the shape of tea, sugar, coffee, and chocolate. Barrels of mealies or Indian corn, and wheaten flour, besides. Salt too, had to be taken, and a large store of ammunition; for in addition to boxes well filled with cartridges, they took a keg or two of powder and a quant.i.ty of lead. Then there were rolls of bra.s.s wire, and a quant.i.ty of showy beads--the latter commodities to take the place of money in exchanges with the natives--salt, powder, and lead answering the same purpose.

It was a delightful task to the boys, who thoroughly enjoyed the packing, and eagerly asked what every package contained, when they had no opportunity of opening it; while Mr Rogers looked on, smiling at the interest they took.

"Here y'are, young gentlemen," said Dinny. "The masther seems to think that you're going to do nothing but suck sweet-stuff all the time you're out."

"Why, what's that, Dinny?" cried d.i.c.k, who had just brought out a heavy box.

"Sure, it's sugar-shticks and candy," said Dinny; and he went off to fetch something else.

"Why, so it is, d.i.c.k," said Jack. "I say, father, are we to pack this sweet-stuff in the waggon? We don't want it."

"Indeed, but we do," said his father, coming up. "Why a handful of sweet-stuff will make friends with a Boer, when everything else fails.

Here, put this in the fore box. Perhaps, when I bring this out you'll be glad to get at the sweet-stuff."

"What is it, father?" said d.i.c.k.

Mr Rogers opened the little deal case and turned it out, to begin packing it again.

"Here's a bottle of chloroform, and another of castor oil; two bottles of chlorodyne; a pound of Epsom salts; four large boxes of pills; a roll of sticking-plaster; a pot of zinc ointment; and a bottle of quinine and one of rhubarb and magnesia."

Jack's countenance was a study. For as his father carefully repacked the little box the lad's face grew into a hideous grimace. He waited till Mr Rogers had finished his enumeration, and then clapping his handkerchief over his mouth, he uttered a loud "Ugh!" and ran and stood a few yards away.