Jasper Lyle. Ward
make ourselves comfortable; you will see fires in all directions by-and-by.”
And so it proved. The swollen rivers had detained many a Kafir from a thieving or hunting expedition; but Lee knew he was some distance from any kraal of importance. However, in case of any unexpected visit from rovers, he selected the densest part of a thicket for their bivouac till evening.
The sun went down, and the cool breeze, which stirred the surface of the stream, fanned the travel-stained faces of the wanderers. The sprews and smaller finches, the canaries, the titmouses, and the blue birds and the Cape chlories—a whole airy colony, in fact, of bright-winged creatures—began to flit about the bush preparatory to taking their pleasant pest among the myrtle boughs and dwarf lilacs, and soon woke the adventurers, who had sought repose in that small Eden.
Gray sat up, and the scene had its influence on his mind, which was not yet as a garden utterly laid waste and tare-sown. Gentle thoughts stole over him, and he longed for the wings of the doves crooning near him to fly away and be at rest; but such thoughts became as a bottle in the smoke when his companion awoke himself, and, rousing Gray by a rough shake, bid him get up from the bed of dry leaves on which they had reposed themselves with a comfort rare to their wearied frames.
Lee’s mind was wide awake. Now that he had readied a place of comparative security, for he knew well where he was, which was more than Gray did, he, Lee, almost wished that the latter had been drowned with the other victims of the storm; but the wish was idle—there he was—his fellow-convict, his comrade. It would not do to lose sight of him; he was at his mercy, for the deserter might earn his pardon by betraying his companion.
As Lee considered these points, he did not by any means contemplate getting rid of Gray by violent means. How many men, from whose misdeeds originate death and misfortune, shudder at the abstract idea of slaughter in cold blood.
“The breeze that stirs the stream,
It knows not the depth below.”
And the little bubbling spring, that rises with diamond brightness amid the flowery turf, wots not of the desolation it may spread in its course if unrestrained.
But Lee’s career had been little checked in its evil nature; and I question if Gray had been thoroughly disabled by rheumatism or fatigue, whether his companion would have had any compunction in leaving him to the mercy of stray Kafirs or wild beasts.
But, as matters stood, it was clear he must not be lost sight of; so Lee, on hearing his companion complain of cramped limbs, made a virtue of necessity, and bid him take courage, and follow him to the trader’s hut.
With some little difficulty they scrambled across the stones lying in the bed of the gorge, through which a swift rivulet was rushing. Had there been water enough to drown Gray, and had he fallen into it by accident, I know not how he might have fared.
But they reached the opposite slope dotted with granite heaps and mimosa clumps, climbed the mountain steep, and traversed another path. The moon, like a blazing shield, rising above the distant mountains, lit the plains, but the nearer hills were yet in deep shadow; and it was not till the wanderers were in full advance upon the ill-tended garden fronting the hut indicated by Lee, that they discovered, some paces from them, what appeared a herd of cattle. They drew back stealthily, for Lee’s experience of the country made him cautious, and sunk down in a hollow beneath the thickest bush at hand. Each held the other by the arm; they scarcely breathed, and paused with fixed eyes and rigid limbs for many minutes.
At length a rustling sound arose among that mysterious crowd, the shivering noise of assegais announced its warlike calling, and a Fingo chief marshalled his phalanx with their shields of bullock hides, beneath which they had been resting till the rising of the moon. Keen watchers of their great mother, Nature, they had calculated to a nicety the darkest nook for a shelter to rest beneath their shields preparatory to their march at night.
It was clear they were on a mission of vengeance, for the few Kafirs, whose fires had appeared during the day, were either too terrified to leave their lairs, and give warning of an enemy’s approach; or, what was more probable, the band of warriors had moved unnoticed to the spot.
In perfect silence, and within the shadow of the hill, the chief put his force in order; ere long they were on their march.
Not a sound was now heard upon the hill-side, but a measured tread of distant feet was distinctly audible to the convicts, as, impatient of delay, and, it must be owned, rather disheartened, they lay with their ears to the ground listening to the receding footsteps of the Fingoes along the edge of the ravine.
“What a life we are to lead in this savage country!” murmured Gray, who, ill, weary, and unhappy, would have given worlds to have been at his duty as a soldier again.
“Silence, fool! and follow me,” was Lee’s reply.
There was nothing for it but to obey. They crept cautiously into the garden fronting the trader’s hut; it was a desolate piece of ground; such plants as had once flourished were trodden to the earth; the door was torn from its hinges, and there was light enough from the moon to see that the interior had been rifled of some, if not all, of its contents.
The two men sat down upon the earthen floor of the despoiled abode; the one cursing, the other moaning in the anguish of pain and weariness of heart.
A man’s form suddenly came between them and the moonlight that shone upon the opposite mountain. A pistol clicked in their ears.
“Who have we here?” said a stern voice in English. The convicts rose to their feet, and in a moment all three men stood together in the clear and radiant atmosphere.
But, to Lee’s disappointment, the man, who had just issued from some place of concealment near them, was not the person he had expected to see, and on whose co-operation in his plans he relied, inasmuch as he, Lee, had some claims on the trader’s good-will; and, compelled by circumstances to be prompt and truthful, he plainly admitted his surprise and regret. Then, without satisfying his interrogator as to his identity or his comrade’s, he inquired abruptly, “Where is Tanner?”
To this he received, instead of a reply, the unsatisfactory answer of “What’s that to you? and who the devil are you?”
The pistol was again elevated, but Lee coolly put it aside; and, sensible that his desperate position could only be defended by hardy measures—seeing, too, that the peremptory tone of his opponent was that of a man whose privacy was not to be further invaded against his will, answered in a steady tone:
“I am not a spy, you may trust us both; lead us into your cabin, or we must climb higher up the hill to the hut where Tanner kept his powder in old days. If it is not standing now, there is a cave near it, and we can light a fire there in safety. My companion must have an hour’s rest and food, and we shall be secure enough there. To tell you the truth, we are both hungry, and have travelled far.”
It was clear that the speaker knew the ground on which he stood and the calling of the trader, who, to outward observers travelling the country, carried on a harmless traffic in ostrich-feathers, skins, horns, tobacco, snuff, and such comforts as civilisation in her slow march through Kafirland had taught the use of to the natives. Puzzled, and rather disconcerted, he led the way to the hut.
It had a counter, shelves, weights and scales—all the accompaniments of legitimate trade; but on striking a light, and holding it up, both visitors and host were soon made aware of the devastated state at the stores. The shelves had been cleared of their blankets, the walls were bare of all but the nails to which beads and bugles had been suspended in tempting array; the tobacco had been swept from the counter, the remnant of tobacco-pipes lay broken on the trampled floor, and scarce a vestige remained of any portable wares. A bunch of common candles hanging in a corner had escaped the notice of the thieves. One of these the host took down, and, going into an inner room, returned with the welcome intelligence that there was something yet left in the locker.
Either overlooking the entrance to this inner apartment, or having found sufficient plunder to satisfy themselves, the thieves had here left all intact. The marauders had been Kafirs, who, not aware of the Fingoes’ proximity, had swept off all the property