Читать книгу: «The School Friends: or, Nothing New», страница 10
“I am afraid the fellows are all much alike,” observed Mr Vincent. “The only way of making them faithful is not to pay them till the journey is over. I only hope he and young Kibo will answer your expectations. For my part, I have found the heathen black men as trustworthy as the whites.”
“Yes, father,” said Martin, “because in too many instances the whites are merely nominal Christians. Mr Warden has shown me the difference between a real and nominal Christian, and it is of the first I speak. All men are fallible, and even in them we cannot hope to find perfection, but still they can be trusted to do their best.”
“Well, well, Martin, when you know more of the world, perhaps you will change your opinion,” remarked the trader in an indifferent tone. “However, water must be found; and as we have still yearly an hour’s daylight, we may even yet reach it if we push on before dark.”
The trader and his son rode on, though their weary steeds did not move as fast as they wished.
“What is that?” exclaimed the elder Vincent, pointing to an object moving among the dry grass some distance ahead. “A lion; we must put a shot into him, or he will be paying the cattle a visit to-night.”
Spurring on his horse, he galloped forward, followed by Martin.
“Don’t fire, father!” cried Martin, “it is a human being.”
Martin was right. They soon discovered that the object they had seen was an old bushwoman, although, but for the scanty clothing which covered her wretchedly thin and diminutive body, she might have been mistaken for some wild animal. She seemed dreadfully frightened, as if expecting instant death. Martin by speaking to the old woman somewhat reassured her.
“Water must be near, and she will know where to find it,” observed his father; “so she must come with us whether she likes it or no, and act as our guide.”
The poor creature was soon made to understand what she was required to do, while Martin assured her that she should receive no harm, and should be well rewarded. Still this poor wanderer of the desert, accustomed all her life to ill-treatment, seemed to doubt the motives of her captors, and turned her head about, as if meditating an escape. Knowing, however, that she could not outstrip the horses, she walked quietly on, every now and then looking up and imploring the strangers not to hurt her. Her husband, her sole companion, she said, was in the neighbourhood, and would be wondering what had become of her.
“Show us the water, and you shall return to him when you wish,” said the elder Vincent.
She replied that it would take nearly an hour to reach it.
“Look out then for the waggon, Martin, or it may pass us; for on this hard ground even Masiko may fail to see our tracks.”
Martin did as he was told, and, greatly to his relief, at length met the caravan.
It moved forward for some time. Martin could nowhere see his father. Masiko made him feel anxious, by hinting that the old woman might, under the pretence of looking for water, have enticed him among a band of her own people, notorious, he said, for their treachery. Martin on this would have ridden forward, had he not received directions to bring on the caravan.
The sun was nearly touching the western horizon, when, to his great relief, he at length caught sight of his father’s horse in the distance. At the same instant the cattle began to move on faster than they had hitherto done.
“Water! water!” shouted the thirsty people, and the whole party rushed forward ahead of the waggon. Martin, who led the way, could see no pool. The old woman, however, was on her knees, scraping the sand from a hole, out of which she began to ladle with a little cup a small quantity of water into three or four ostrich eggs, carried in a net at her back.
“I am afraid our poor oxen will not be much the better for this discovery,” observed Martin when he reached his father.
“Wait a bit, our men will soon dig more wells, though it may be some hours before we shall have water sufficient for the animals,” was the answer.
The men as they came up commenced digging with their hands in the soft sand a number of holes some distance apart.
As soon as the waggon arrived, the order was given to outspann. Fires were lighted, the neighbouring bushes affording sufficient fuel, and all the usual preparations for camping were made.
Martin did not forget the old bushwoman, and with his father’s leave gave her, to her no little astonishment and delight, a piece of meat and a bunch of beads, and two or three other trifling articles.
The people were employed for several hours in cleaning out the sand from the holes, for as fast as they dug, it again rolled down and filled them up. Gradually, however, the water oozed out from the sides, and towards morning there was a sufficient quantity to afford a little to each of the thirsty horses and oxen.
Directly the first streaks of dawn appeared in the sky the oxen were inspanned, and the journey recommenced. On search being made for the old bushwoman, it was discovered that she had decamped. Mean and wretched though she was, she had rendered an essential service to the strangers, but she probably thought them as treacherous as they had supposed her to be.
Story 4-Chapter II
For several hours the weary oxen dragged on the waggon, slightly refreshed by the limited amount of water they had obtained, and at length they began to show signs of thirst. Masiko confessed that he knew of no pool within the distance of another day’s journey, and as the heat had been excessive, he could not be certain that water would be found in it. It was a question whether the oxen could get as far without drinking. Noon was approaching, and it would have been worse than useless to attempt moving on while the sun was overhead. Again they outspanned. The men sat down to sleep in the limited shade the waggon afforded; but the poor animals had to stand out in the full glare of the hot sun, turning their heads in the direction whence came a light breeze, which prevented the atmosphere being altogether insupportable.
They had halted about a couple of hours, when two objects were seen moving across the boundless plain towards them. They proved to be the little, yellow-skinned, shrivelled old bushwoman, and a man of the same hue, and as scantily dressed as herself. They came without hesitation up to the waggon. Martin hastened forward, and in a kind tone thanked them for coming to the camp, assuring them that they were welcome and would be protected.
“Can you show us where we can find water?” he asked.
Their reply convinced him that Masiko was right, and that there was none to be found nearer than he had said. They, however, told him that if he would accompany them a short distance, they would point out where to obtain what would answer the purpose of water. As his father was asleep in the waggon, Martin did not wish to disturb him, and therefore called Kibo, who had meantime been speaking to the bushman and his wife.
“Do you think they can be trusted, Kibo?” Martin asked.
“Yes, good people; no do harm,” answered the lad in broken English.
“Then we will go with them.”
Martin, saddling his horse, called two of the most trustworthy men to follow on the spare horses, while Kibo mounting another, they set out in company with the little bushman and his wife.
They had proceeded some distance, when the latter pointed out a creeping plant, with long leaves and a thin, delicate stalk, spreading over the ground in various directions. Both the man and his wife had stones in their hands with which they struck the ground at various spots, at about equal distances from the centre of the plant, and then made signs to the people who had accompanied them to dig, setting the example themselves. After throwing out the sand to the depth of a foot and a half they came to a tuber, three or four times as large as an ordinary turnip; and at each spot where they had struck a similar one was procured. On breaking open one of the tubers, it was found to be full of juice.
“These very good, me remember them before,” observed Kibo.
Martin and the Hottentot loaded their horses with as many of the tubers as they could carry, perceiving at once what a rich treat they would prove to the thirsty and starving cattle.
Having first fed their own animals, they quickly returned with their prize to the camp, accompanied by the bushman and his wife. Martin having rewarded them, they expressed their readiness to show where more tubers could be found. The riding oxen having been fed, another party was despatched to obtain a further supply. On their return they were able, as soon as the heat of the day was over, to proceed on to the northward.
“Though I was inclined to look with contempt on those poor little wretches, father, see how useful they have been to us,” observed Martin. “It goes to prove, as Mr Warden says, that none of the human race should be despised; and debased as they may be, they are capable of improvement, and have immortal souls which we should value not less than those of our other fellow-creatures.”
“As to that, my boy, I doubt whether you would ever make anything out of those wretched little bush-people. Well, well! you have got a number of new notions into your head. However, when we reach the Makololo, you will have other things to occupy your thoughts; they are sharp fellows, and we shall have to keep our eyes open when dealing with them.”
Martin knew that it would be his duty to assist his father to the best of his abilities, and he promised to do so.
They moved on till dark, and started again at dawn, no water having been found. Had it not been for the roots which God has caused to grow in this arid desert to supply the wants of His creatures, the oxen must have perished.
Just as they were about to outspann after their morning’s journey, the little bushman beckoned to Martin, and intimated that he could lead them to a place where another production of nature could be found which would assist to sustain the cattle.
Martin, summoning three men to attend him with their oxen, and some large nets used to carry fodder, followed his volunteer guide, who, to show his confidence, left his wife with the waggon.
The country over which they passed was even more barren and arid than any he had yet seen.
At length, after travelling several miles, some large green objects were seen, which, to his surprise and delight, he discovered were a species of water-melon.
The Hottentots immediately rushed at them; the first man cut a huge slice with his axe, but no sooner did he put his mouth to it than he cast it aside with a look of disgust and bitter disappointment. The cattle, however, passing by several, began greedily eating others they came to. Meantime the little guide, after tasting two or three which he threw down, pointed to some which he signified were good. Martin now found that some were intensely bitter, while others were sweet and full of juice; this, however, could only be ascertained by tasting each.
The party having now satisfied their own thirst, collected as many of the sweet melons as their animals could carry, and returned with them to the camp.
“That bushman is a serviceable little fellow,” observed Mr Vincent. “I have often seen both the tubers and the melons, but I have never found them before in this part of the desert. The latter seldom last long after the rains, as not only do the natives of the desert collect them, but elephants, and rhinoceroses, and even lions and hyenas, come from a distance to devour them. It was probably in consequence of the arid character of the surrounding desert that the patch to which the bushman took you has escaped a visit from them.”
Martin begged that he might be allowed to reward his guide, who seemed well satisfied with an axe and several other useful articles, as well as some beads which he received.
“You should have waited till they can be of no further use before giving them presents,” observed his father. “Depend upon it, they will be off before long; and it Masiko, as I suspect, has lost his way, we shall be in no small difficulty.”
Martin hoped that their new friends would prove faithful, though as the waggon moved on during the afternoon they said something which made him suspect that their wanderings did not extend much further to the north. They, however, accompanied the caravan to the end of the day’s journey; but when morning broke they were nowhere to be seen, they had gone off, as the old woman had before, without being observed by the watch, who had probably been slumbering at the time.
Here a whole day was spent, that both men and beasts might obtain that rest they so much required.
Again the caravan was on the move. Masiko urged that they should push on as rapidly as possible, for he could not say when they might next reach water. But a small supply remained in their skin bottles.
The horses and cattle were again suffering greatly. First one of the oxen in the team fell, then another, and another; and though their places were supplied by the spare animals, the waggon continued to move on at an unusually slow pace.
The last drop of water in the skins was exhausted, and even some of the men accustomed to desert travelling declared they could go no further.
The sun was striking down on their heads with intense force. The men’s lips were parched, their eyes bloodshot. The animals moved on with open mouths, lowing piteously in their sufferings. The trader began to fear that the whole party would knock up. In that case, his only hope of saving his own life and that of his son would be to abandon them with his waggon and goods, and to gallop forward, on the chance of finding water.
They had ridden some distance ahead of the caravan, when Martin, who was a short way in front of his father, shouted out, “Water! water!” pointing as he spoke to a beautiful lake in the distance, its waters, curled by the breeze, shining with intense lustre in the bright sun. On the further shore trees were seen reflected clearly on the surface, while among them appeared a number of elephants cooling themselves by throwing water over their bodies.
“We need no longer fear losing our animals, for they will have water enough now to drink their fill,” observed Martin as his father overtook him.
Mr Vincent did not answer, but anxiously gazed at the sheet of water. “I know of no lake hereabouts, and it is too important an object not to be known to all who have ever travelled across the desert; yet my eyes cannot be deceived,” he remarked.
“Shall I ride back and tell the people?” asked Martin.
“Wait till we have ascertained how far off the water is,” said his father; “you may only disappoint them.”
“Surely it cannot be very far off, or we should not see those elephants so clearly,” remarked Martin.
They now put their horses into a trot, the poor animals were too much fatigued to gallop.
Just then the seeming elephants began to move, and suddenly, instead of elephants, a herd of zebras crossed their path, scampering over the ground. The next instant the lake had disappeared, and they found themselves on the borders of an immense expanse of salt, covering the ground as far as the eye could reach to the north and west. On looking behind them, however, they saw both their cattle and men moving rapidly towards the spot, as if they too had been deceived. Bitter was their disappointment when they discovered their mistake. Two of the poor animals dropped and died, now another, and now a fourth; still “Forward! forward!” was the cry. Masiko asserted that water would be at length reached, though it might be some hours’ journey ahead. Thus encouraged, even those who had hitherto been most inclined to despair exerted themselves.
“If this is to endure much longer, I fear that I shall be unable to stand it,” observed Martin to Kibo, who was riding by his side. “Should I die, you will promise me, Kibo, to remain with my father, and to do your best to serve him, and try and get him back safely to Mr Warden’s. Perhaps if I die he will be more ready to listen to him than he was during his last visit, and to think that is a great consolation to me. Oh, how willingly would I give up my life to save his, and much more, to enable him to learn the glorious truths which have brought joy to my heart!”
The sun was rapidly sinking in the west. They had left the salt expanse some way behind; still the country was as dry and inhospitable as ever. Masiko, at Mr Vincent’s order, had pushed on ahead of the caravan. Suddenly he was seen to wave his spear, and to point with it to a clump of trees, then to rush forward. Mr Vincent, with Martin and Kibo, followed him eagerly.
Story 4-Chapter III
Water was found in the bed of what had once been a running river. The men eagerly rushed forward, and lapped up the refreshing liquid, followed by the horses and oxen. It was with difficulty that those yoked to the waggon could be restrained from dragging it in with them, so eager were they to quench their burning thirst.
The party here encamped, for there were all things requisite – water, grass, and wood.
Masiko now knew where he was, and he urged his companions to fill all their water-skins, for this pool would soon be dried up, and they had a wide desert track to traverse before they could reach the country of the Makololo.
The next morning, having secured as much water as they could carry, the party proceeded on their journey.
Day after day they travelled on, often suffering greatly from thirst and hunger, and dreading the loss of more of the cattle.
At length a stream of running water was crossed flowing to the east, and the caravan reached the borders of a dense forest, through which a path had to be cut with axes. Beyond it, far off in the east, hills were seen rising out of the plain.
Several ruined villages were passed, the plantations near them overrun with weeds and brushwood; while many skeletons of their unhappy inhabitants lay scattered about, telling plainly how they had been attacked by their cruel foes before they had time to escape, and had been remorselessly slaughtered, while the remainder probably had been carried off into slavery.
Such scenes met their sight day after day through what otherwise would have been a smiling country.
Several more of the oxen had died. Scarcely enough survived to drag on the waggon.
Ahead lay a level waste covered by scrub. Masiko urged Mr Vincent to wait till nightfall to cross it. He was afraid, he said, that it might be infested by the tsetse, which does not attack cattle at night. The trader, however, was eager to proceed, as he was now near the termination of his journey, and he thought that Masiko was mistaken. Martin suggested that one of the oxen should be sent on first, and that if that was not bitten the rest should follow. His father, however, seemed to have abandoned his usual caution, and insisted on proceeding.
They had not proceeded far across the scrub when several of the dangerous flies were seen on the animals. It was too late to turn back. They must now push on in the hopes that some might escape, which they might do if not severely bitten. The horses might possibly be saved by galloping on, should the dangerous spot not be of any great extent. Mr Vincent therefore directed Martin and Kibo, with two of the men, to push forward with the horses while he himself remained with the waggon.
It was already late in the day before the scrub was passed. Riding on for some distance, Martin and his companions crossed a small stream and encamped on a grassy spot, where they hoped to be safe from further attacks of the deadly tsetse. Examining the horses, however, they found that all had been bitten, while there was no hope that any of the oxen would have escaped.
The disease caused by the bite might not show itself for several days, and the animals might have strength to drag the waggon to the end of the journey; but if bitten, death would certainly be the consequence.
It was late at night before the waggon arrived. Mr Vincent was much out of spirits, for he anticipated the loss of all his oxen. It was the more important, therefore, that they should push on, and the next morning they were again on their journey.
At length the bank of another large river was reached Several villages were seen on the opposite side, the dwellings composed of conical-shaped reed-thatched huts surrounded by circular clay walls. The inhabitants, on observing the waggon, came across in their canoes to welcome the trader, who had before been to their country. They were clothed with skins of animals round their loins and others thrown loosely over their shoulders.
All were eager to ascertain what Mr Vincent had brought; but he could not commence trading until visited by their chief, who would first claim his own dues and make purchases of such articles as he wanted for himself.
The waggon was soon surrounded by natives, who appeared disposed to be friendly.
While Mr Vincent was speaking to them they announced that their chief, Kanenge, was coming across the river. In a short time, a tall man, dressed like his people, except that the skins he wore were handsomer and that feathers ornamented the fillet round his head, landed from a canoe and came up to the waggon. Mr Vincent saluted him, shaking hands in the usual fashion. The chief then taking his seat on the ground, they discussed the business which had brought the trader to the country. One had plenty of goods, the other an abundance of ivory. The chief was as eager to trade as any of his people, and appeared incapable just then of thinking of anything else. Every now and then, however, his eye turned towards young Kibo. At length he remarked how like the lad was to his own tribe. Mr Vincent then told him how he had been captured by Moselekatse’s people some years before, and had been redeemed by the missionary. Kanenge listened with intense interest, and calling to the boy, addressed him. As Kibo replied, the chief’s before somewhat stern countenance became animated and eager. He continued putting questions to Kibo, to which the boy replied, and then eagerly asked several in return. At length, with a cry of delight, the chief sprang up, and pressing young Kibo in his arms, exclaimed —
“My heart was moved when I saw him. I knew him to be of my own people, but I dared not believe that he was the child I loved, and whom I had lost so long ago. White man, I will load your waggon with tusks. You shall take them to the good missionary chief who has sent me back my boy; or if he will come here with a waggon himself, he and his people shall be fed as long as they will remain.”
Thus the father endeavoured to express his gratitude to the missionary who had preserved his son, and to those who had brought him back. Mr Vincent, however, did not put full confidence in his promises. He replied that he should be happy to convey his messages to the missionary; but that as he had come to trade, he must purchase tusks for himself, though he would carry as many as he had room for, if sent as a present.
The chief offered to convey the trader’s goods over the river, and to float the waggon across it, while the cattle and horses would pass over by swimming, to his village. This was accomplished the next day. Kanenge appropriated several huts for the accommodation of his visitors, in one of which they took up their residence, in another their goods were stored, while their attendants inhabited the remainder.
Trade was now commenced, and everything appeared to be going on prosperously. Scarcely, however, had these arrangements been made than Masiko and their driver came with the intelligence that several of the oxen were sickening from the effects of the tsetse-bites. No cure was known. The most healthy had already perished. In a few days it was found that all the cattle, as well as the horses, had been bitten by the deadly insect.
Martin tried to console his father by pointing out how much worse it would have been had they perished on the journey, in which case the waggon and its contents must have been deserted, and they themselves would in all probability have lost their lives. The trader, however, was inclined to look at things in a gloomy light.
Though fresh oxen might be procured in the country, it would require some time to break them in, while their cost would swallow up a considerable portion of his profits.
Mr Vincent himself was ill, and in a few days he was attacked with fever, while several of his men were suffering from the same complaint.
Martin now felt thankful that he had accompanied his father, and while he attended him with the most devoted care, he did his utmost to take his place in carrying on trade with the natives. His father appeared well pleased with the way he transacted business, when he each day reported the progress he had made, and gradually their store-hut became filled with elephant-tusks.
“Ah, Martin, you will become a first-rate trader,” he observed; “and I hope we shall soon recover our losses. As soon as I am well we must push further to the eastward, where I hear there are large supplies of ivory. In the meantime we must get fresh oxen broken in.”
“I am thankful to be able to assist you, father,” answered Martin; “but I must not pride myself on my dealings with the natives. We are now with a friendly chief who treats us fairly, but I understand the people among whom you propose going are likely to behave in a very different way; besides which, the country is exposed to the inroads of hostile tribes, and should they hear that such a prize as our waggon full of goods is in the neighbourhood, they will attack us in the hopes of carrying it off.”
“We need not be afraid of them; we have a dozen muskets, besides our rifles and pistols, and may keep a whole host of enemies at bay,” observed Mr Vincent. “Kanenge will send a party of his men, and probably, if I ask him, come himself to assist us.”
Martin had now to tell his father that two of their own people were already dead, and that several others were so ill that there was little hope of their recovery.
Kibo came every day to the hut, and brought presents of provisions from his father. Martin asked him if he felt happy at being once more among his relations and own people. Kibo shook his head.
“No, very sorry,” he answered, speaking partly in broken English and partly in his native tongue. “My father is kind and glad to have me with him; but he knows nothing of the true God, and wants me to follow the bad ways of my people, which he thinks right ways. I tell him that God wishes men to be happy, and to live at peace, and to do good to each other and not harm, and to love their enemies, and to trust to Him, and to worship Him only; and that all men are bad by nature and constantly doing wrong, and that it is only by trusting to Jesus Christ, who was punished instead of them, that God will forgive them their sins and put them away out of His sight. My father says he cannot understand how this can be, and that now I have come to live among my people, I must believe what they do, and live as they do. I tell him I cannot believe the lies Satan has invented to deceive them, and that I must not follow their ways, which are the bad ways Satan has taught them; and so I have asked my father to let me go back with you and try to persuade Mr Warden to come here, or to send another missionary to teach the people about Jesus Christ, and how He wishes men to live.”
Martin was truly glad to hear Kibo say this, and he urged him to persevere in trying to obtain leave to return, promising to beg Mr Vincent to assist him.
