The School Friends Part 15

Here no running streams are found to fertilise the plain, and often for miles and miles together, not a well nor pool is to be discovered, from which the weary traveller can quench his burning thirst. Yet dest.i.tute as it is of water, it is in many parts covered with gra.s.s, and an immense variety of creeping plants; while in some places large patches of bushes, and even trees, find nourishment in the seeming arid soil, and countless mult.i.tudes of wild animals, especially those which require but little water, or can go many days together without drinking, roam over its trackless wilds.

This region pa.s.sed, a fertile country is found, thickly populated by dark-skinned tribes, who till of late years have had no intercourse with white men. Here an almost countless number of rivers and streams are found, some flowing into the mighty Zambesi, and others into Lake Ngami.

Notwithstanding the dangers which must be encountered in crossing the vast Kalahara Desert, from the scarcity of water, the intense heat, the wild beasts, the savage people who inhabit its borders, and more than all, from the attacks of the Tsetse fly, whose poisonous bite speedily destroys cattle and horses, white traders from the colony occasionally traverse it, for the purpose of obtaining ivory from the natives.

A tilted waggon belonging to one of these traders, dragged by a span of fourteen oxen, was slowly moving across the wide-extending plain. On the box sat a Hottentot driver, his whip in hand, with lash of prodigious length, reaching even to the leading animals shouting out at the same time strange sounds to urge them on. A dozen dark-skinned men, some clad in jacket and trousers, and broad-brimmed hats, but others having merely a cloth or kilt round their loins, moved along by the side of the waggon. A few were seated on oxen, and the rest marched on foot, mostly with arms in their hands. Among those on foot was a young lad, whose dark skin showed that he was an African, though his features had somewhat of the Asiatic character. He was dressed more in the English fas.h.i.+on than the other black men, though his firm step and independent air proved that young Kibo was well accustomed to traverse the desert wilds. Ahead of the caravan stalked, with spear in hand, the Bechuana guide Masiko, whose people inhabit the region to the south of the desert, over all parts of which, from his earliest youth, he had wandered. His only garment was a cotton scarf, or plaid of a dark colour, thrown over his shoulders and wound round his waist, so as to form a kilt reaching to his knees, his woolly head and his feet being without covering. Two horses without saddles followed the waggon, secured to it by thongs of hide, and several spare oxen kept pace with the vehicle, ready to supply the places of any of the team which might knock up on the road.

Two white persons mounted on strong horses brought up the rear of the caravan. One Mr Robert Vincent, the owner of the waggon and its varied contents, was a strongly-built man of middle age, his countenance well tanned by African suns; the other a lad of about fifteen years of age apparently, who, from his slightly-built figure, looked scarcely capable of enduring the fatigues, of the journey before him.

The bright sun s.h.i.+ning down from the cloudless sky shed a peculiar glare over the whole scene, the atmosphere quivering with heat. Here and there a few bushes rose above the surface, and broke the ocean-like horizon; but so exactly did they resemble one another, that to even the well-practised eye of the trader, they were useless as landmarks to direct his course. He had, therefore, entirely to depend on the guidance of Masiko, to conduct the caravan to the different water-holes and wells on the road across the desert.

Already both men and beasts were suffering greatly from thirst, for at the last halting-place no water had been obtained, and there was a fear that the oxen would break down altogether, unless they should soon reach the wells which the guide a.s.sured him would be found ahead.

"Had I supposed we should have found water so scarce on this route, I would have left you at Mr Warden's station till my return, Martin,"

observed Mr Vincent to the lad by his side. "But I wanted to give you an insight into the dealing of the natives, for which no small amount of experience is required, that you may be able to help me in my business, and be competent in a few years to take charge of a trading expedition yourself."

"I shall be very glad if I can be of a.s.sistance to you, father,"

answered Martin. "I already feel myself the better for the dry air of the desert. I was very happy with Mr Warden, and should have been content to remain and help him and his wife in the numerous duties they have to perform."

"He is a good man, no doubt, Martin," observed the trader; "but his is not a money-making calling, and it is not one I should wish you to follow."

"If you had not wanted me to help you, father, from what I learned and saw while I was with Mr Warden, I would rather have become a missionary like him than be of any other profession," answered young Martin.

"Oh! you must put such foolish ideas out of your head, Martin. It is very well for those who are paid for it, and are not fit for anything better, but I want my son to be a man of the world, to make money, and to become some day one of the leading merchants of Cape Town."

Young Martin made no reply. On his father's previous journey from the Cape, Martin had accompanied him, but, unaccustomed to travelling, he had fallen sick, and had been left at the Missionary-station of Mr Warden. Though the trader looked upon the illness of his son as a great misfortune, young Martin had good reason soon to believe it the happiest event of his life. He there for the first time became practically acquainted with the glorious truths of the gospel: he learned that man is a sinner, and by nature a rebel against G.o.d, and that through the atonement and mediation of Jesus Christ can he alone become reconciled to Him.

This truth brought home to his own heart, he at once comprehended the importance of the efforts which Mr Warden, and the missionary-band engaged with him, were making to carry the gospel of love and mercy among the savage hordes by whom they were surrounded; he knew it to be the only means by which their natures could be changed, and they can become not only civilised members of society, but, what is of far more consequence, heirs of eternal life. He therefore, rejoicing in the blessings he had himself received, felt an earnest desire to engage in the glorious work of carrying the same blessings to the dark-skinned races of that land, long so deeply plunged in ignorance.

Though his health had been completely restored, he would therefore far rather have remained with the missionary than have taken the journey to which his father summoned him. But he had learned that obedience to parents is among the first duties of a Christian; and thus, after he had frankly expressed his wish to remain, when his father still desired his company, he had no longer hesitated to obey his summons.

He was accompanied by Kibo, the son of a chief of one of the tribes to the north of the desert, whom Mr Vincent purposed visiting. Kibo had been carried away from his home into slavery by the great Matabele leader Moselekatse, in one of his marauding expeditions against the territory inhabited by the lad's tribe four or five years before this.

During a visit Mr Warden had paid to Moselekatse, he had seen young Kibo, then apparently on the point of death, and inducing the chief to give him his liberty, had carried him to the Missionary-station, where recovering, he was instructed in the truths of Christianity. The lad became a true and earnest convert, and his heart yearned to visit his parents and friends, and to tell them the good news he had heard. Mr Warden, believing him to be confirmed in the faith, had consented to his accompanying Martin, in the hopes that by his means his tribe might be induced to receive a missionary of the gospel among them.

The trader and his son rode on for some time in silence, the former indeed was beginning to feel too anxious about the chances of finding water at the end of the day's journey to talk much. Already many hours had pa.s.sed since they had left the last water-holes. Although there was still a sufficient supply in the leathern bottles carried in the waggon to prevent them and their men from feeling much inconvenience from thirst, both horses and oxen were already suffering from want of the moisture so necessary to enable them to swallow their food. They had stopped as usual during the heat of the day; but though there was an abundance of gra.s.s, it was so dry that it crumbled in the hand, and the poor animals as they chewed it turned it about in their mouths, in a vain endeavour to get it down their throats.

Robert Vincent had ordered his men to inspan or harness the cattle at an earlier hour than usual, hoping by pus.h.i.+ng on to gain the promised pool before nightfall; but the oxen, already fatigued by their previous long journey, were unable to move as fast as usual, in spite of all the efforts of their driver.

The trader, at length losing patience, rode on by the side of the guide, and inquired when they were to reach the pool he had spoken of.

"Not till after the sun has sunk far beyond yonder distant line, unless the oxen move faster than they are now doing," answered the guide, pointing to the western horizon.

The trader shouted to the driver. Again and again he made his huge whip crack, as he struck his team in succession, but without effect; nothing would induce the poor animals to hasten their steps.

"I am much inclined to ride forward, and try and find out the wells myself," said Mr Vincent to his son. "I am not quite sure that our guide is not playing us false. If I thought so, I would shoot him through the head. It is wiser to trust to one's own sagacity than to a treacherous guide."

"O father! do not use violence," exclaimed Martin. "Gentle words and kindness will have more effect in keeping him faithful. I have no fear about him, for he has long been known to Mr Warden, who has perfect confidence in him."

"Why do you think he should have confidence in him, Martin?" asked his father.

"Because, though he was once a fierce savage, he has become a faithful Christian, and as such would be ready to sacrifice his own life rather than risk ours when he has promised to serve us."

"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 gra.s.s 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 rea.s.sured 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 a.s.sured 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 pa.s.s 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, sc.r.a.ping the sand from a hole, out of which she began to ladle with a little cup a small quant.i.ty 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.