Jasper Lyle Part 31

We were the victims of treachery. Some of our pretended friends had been bribed, turned informers, and went over to the enemy. These were the traitors and deserters; they have pocketed the price of blood, and are at work again, no doubt, like spiders in their dark, gloomy offices, making false promises, deluding the people into the a.s.semblies they convoke, only to bring the troops upon them, and then reap their reward for betraying their victims."

In this strain Lyle proceeded; Gray paid but little heed to his sophistry--his mind was intent on casting aside the thraldom under which he writhed; but fate seemed against him.

And Amayeka, what was to become of her? Lyle next pointed out the advantages of the prospect before them. It was by no means certain, he said, that the Boers must necessarily fight against the English government; it was well-known that Vander Roey had gone to the Commander-in-Chief to hold a conference; it was not improbable that terms would be made, and that a territory would be given to the Dutch settlers, where they might exercise their own laws.

"Here," said Lyle, "we may find a place of rest, for, unless something is to be gained by it, I am not inclined for war for fighting's sake."

This was, as the reader may divine, untrue; but he adapted his expressed opinions to the tone of Gray's mind at the moment.

"So, for the present, my lad, make your mind easy; you cannot get away from this if you would, and you would not if you could, for your dusky lady-love is, without doubt, yonder in the hills, and no bad refuge neither. By Jove, this is a fine country--ha! Doda told me it was a n.o.ble pasture-land for horses, and see, the mountain-sides are dotted with them; and here is a troop of jolly young Boers. Now remember, once for all, my lad," continued Lyle, clutching Gray suddenly by the arm--"let me tell you to put a good face on the matter. As to getting these people just now to listen to your history, and give you a guide or an escort to take you back--you young fool!--to fight against them, it is of no use. All your reasoning would be as useless as whistling jigs to milestones--all your wrath like the grimaces, and the sputtering, and the swearing of the bushmen at a storm of thunder and lightning. So now say 'good morrow' to these young fellows with the best face you can."

A party of youths rode up as Lyle spoke; the latter informed them, in tolerable Dutch, that he was the trader whom Brennard had located at Umlala's Kraal, and, as he had no intention of at once avowing himself willing to be enrolled as a rebel, he affected to have started from the Kraal with mere prospects of traffic. He then related what had occurred since his departure, and Gray listened with a beating heart to the reply made to Lyle on his inquiring whether a Kafir girl had been brought to the mountains by the young men of the foraging party.

"Yes; but they had earned her over the hills to the Boers' large encampment, where she would be taken care of by some of the women."

With this information Gray and Doda were obliged to be content. The young Dutchmen informed Lyle that the ammunition was on the south-western side of the mountains, where it was carefully stored in some of the bushmen's caves, long abandoned by their first tenants, until Vander Roey sent intelligence of the result of his conference with the Commander-in-Chief, Vander Roey's wife was in charge of it, and, under her directions, instalments of gunpowder were daily forwarded on pack-oxen and horses, the pa.s.ses of the mountains being impracticable for wagons.

The young Boers having turned their horses' heads in the direction of the mountains, the convicts and Doda accompanied them to the temporary bivouac, where Vander Roey's wife held sway in the absence of her husband. The three were left among the scattered tents and wagon-tilts of the few families congregated together in the sequestered spot, while the riders hastened to Mrs Vander Roey to inform her of the new arrivals in the camp. Lyle and Gray were soon summoned by the lady, who advanced to the door of the cave to receive them, and ask their business.

She was a woman apparently five or six and twenty years of age, though probably she was much less. She was not what might be termed a true specimen of the Boeress in Southern Africa, but was, in colonial parlance, an Africander, of French extraction, her father belonging to the race who established themselves at the Cape after the revocation of the edict of Nantes; and her mother, although the wife of a Boer, had a alight touch of dark blood in her veins. To these circ.u.mstances, which, in the eyes of the community to which she belonged, were objectionable, she owed her raven hair, drawn back from the temples, and bound round her head in cla.s.sic fas.h.i.+on. The forehead was low, but well formed; the eyes long, dark, and fringed with black lashes, that softened their fiery expression; the nose aquiline, with the delicate nostril indicative of Indian blood; the mouth scarlet-lipped, and radiant with pearly teeth; her figure, above the middle height, and gracefully, if not perfectly, shaped, was set off by the dress, which, albeit coa.r.s.e and rough, was picturesque; a petticoat of bright-coloured _voerchitz_, a bodice of the same material, but of different pattern, over which was thrown a rich silk handkerchief of orange hue--a gift from Cape Town; loose sleeves, reaching a little below the elbow of a beautiful arm; cotton stockings, pa.s.sing fine, and _veldt sc.o.o.ns_, of better make than was common among her people, fitted to a tolerable foot and slender ankle. Such was the attire of Mrs, or, as she chose to call herself, Madame Vander Roey; and, as she came forward, the rays of the setting sun illuminated her figure, and set off the manifold hues of her costume in a very striking manner. Even the attention of the listless deserter was arrested by the vision of this showy dame, who, with a pistol in her belt, her arms folded across the orange handkerchief her head thrown back, and her flas.h.i.+ng eyes bent eagerly on Lyle, awaited their approach in front of her rude but picturesque domicile. She opened the conversation by the direct inquiry addressed to Lyle in Dutch, of "Where do you come from, and what is your business?"

Lyle replied, with equal decision of tone,

"I am the trader from Umlala's Kraal; I have been, in communication with Vander Roey for more than six weeks."

"Vander Roey has been absent nearly a month, but I did not wish Umlala's people to know this; the scouts were told he was ill, and have received the ammunition; some of it I have stored, some has been sent over the mountains. Are you here only as traders, and who is this boy?"

She scanned the dejected-looking Gray with something like glances of contempt.

"Doda, good morrow; you are to be trusted, because you would gain nothing by betraying us. Go, you will find meat cooking at those fires in the hollow. Who, I say, is this boy?"

"A deserter from the service of my king," answered Gray, "and a miserable creature."

Lyle would have spoken; Madame Vander Roey forestalled him, by asking in English, "And what is your business here? Do you come as friend or enemy?"

"As neither," replied Gray; "but I am a most unfortunate young man."

"Neither friend nor enemy!" said Madame Vander Roey, elevating her dark-pencilled eyebrows; "then why come you here at all?"

Lyle, seeing that Gray had resolved on making a true statement of past occurrences, suddenly exclaimed, "At least accept me as your friend; I am one of those who have been banished by my country for taking part with the ill-used, the poor, and the weak--in a word, we are convicts, who escaped lately from the wreck of the _Trafalgar_, and from the moment that I set foot on sh.o.r.e, I resolved to seek Vander Roey, whose fame has spread to England--aye, and to the land of his forefathers, to Holland; but of this we can speak hereafter. We have been travelling for some days on foot, are weary and hungry, and long for the rest and refreshment which we believe you will give us. This lad will come to his senses by-and-by; if he does not," added the elder convict, with a bitter laugh--one of those laughs which Eleanor could not distinguish between jest and earnest--"we most teach him the use of his wits."

Gray knew it was vain to remonstrate with his evil genius. Madame Vander Roey invited both the travellers into her retreat, and Gray pa.s.sively followed Lyle and the lady into the bushmen's cave, her present dwelling-place.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE PATRIARCH.

It was, like most of these retreats, a deep recess in the rocks. The walls were ornamented with grotesque drawings, poorly executed in coloured clay, of men and animals, the figures of the former more resembling apes than men. The ground--for flooring there was none, save a carpet woven by Nature's tasteful hand--was partially covered with mats and skins, and the furniture consisted of a rickety camp-table and two or three broken stools. A long roer and a pair of large pistols were slung against the scarp of rock at the back of the recess, and the place was faintly illuminated by a primitive kind of lamp--a calabash filled with sheep-tail oil--from the centre of which rose a rush wick.

The coolness of this retreat,--for the sun's rays never penetrated therein,--was delicious, after pa.s.sing so many days in the open air during the hottest period of the South African summer.

The lamp only emitted sufficient light to make darkness visible to the travellers' unaccustomed eyes. On their entrance, they heard voices, and Lyle stumbling over some object on the ground, there rose up Madame Vander Roey's attendant pages, Lynx and Frolic, two small bushboy imps; they uttered a little screech at sight of the new-comers, and were tumbling out of the cave, when their mistress called them back and issued some orders, desiring them to send Hans, the Hottentot. She then lit another lamp, and thereupon they discerned another object in the corner of the recess.

This was the aged father of Madame Vander Roey, a venerable Boer, with snowy hair and a long silvery beard. His seat was an old arm-chair, which his daughter had rendered more comfortable and sightly by throwing over it a kaross made of the silver jackal's akin. His dress was of the usual coa.r.s.e duffle, a good deal worn, and a crutch beside him indicated infirmity of body. His mind appeared less enervated than his limbs, and he bowed with an air of great courtesy to the new-comers, evincing no surprise at the appearance of strangers.

He shook his head mournfully, and inquired of his daughter if they were English; she replied in the affirmative, and added that they were friends.

His first thought was hospitable; he reminded her that they must need refreshment; he next begged them to be seated, and inquired whence they came.

Madame Vander Roey said that this question must be deferred for a while, and left the dwelling to see that food was provided for the evening meal.

The old Boer, Du Plessis, began to talk in soliloquising fas.h.i.+on as soon as he was left with Lyle and Gray; the latter reclining listlessly against the painted rock, the former with his full grey eye fixed intently on Du Plessis.

"Has my daughter's husband returned?" asked the patriarch; but, instead of waiting for an answer, he went back to memories seventy years old, when he was a youth and his father a landowner in the lower districts of the Cape. He repeated the usual tale of complaint. "They robbed us,"

said he, speaking of the kafirs. "We offered our humble pet.i.tions to the great men at Cape Town, and asked for help; but, while we waited, leaning upon promises--broken reeds!--our enemies swept away our possessions, stole or mutilated our cattle and sheep, and left us poor.

Then we learned with great sorrow that some of our fellow-burghers were against us, and time was lost in disproving this, and our enemies laughed at us; therefore we sent messengers to their honours in Cape Town, and said, 'As we possess little, we pray you let us go and live in peace upon the Sneeuwberg, where, if you will permit us to remain, we will pay you rent; there is quiet there and much game; indeed, we need a supply of food, for many of us now have not a hundred sheep and five cattle. Let us go then with our small flocks and our wives and our little ones.' So then we waited, and could get no certain answer, and our great men advised us to go, and we went sorrowfully, and sent again messengers to implore forgiveness of their honours if we had done amiss in _trekking_, and prayed the Lord would bestow His grace upon them, that they might select a fitting person to arrange all disputes between neighbours.

"We fared ill with the bushmen: if we went out to kill sea-cows, these robbers would follow us, or plunder our homes in our absence, or shoot at us with their poisoned arrows. So we grew more and more impoverished, and a generation pa.s.sed away while we were waiting for help; and so, not being able to hold out against the robbers, we abandoned our places again."

Here Madame Vander Roey returned to make such preparations as the times permitted for setting the supper-table in array; her father went wandering on.

"Next," said he, "they took away our slaves. We had been told by good teachers that slavery was bad, that we had no right to traffic in human flesh; but we could not understand anything at first except that we were left without servants, and with pieces of paper in our hands, which we were told were money-bills, but that we must go to Cape Town to get them cashed, and so we did; but we had many hundreds of miles to go. Some trekked away with their slaves altogether, but my father inclined to the Government, and accepted what they called compensation, and I went with him to Cape Town, and we were glad to sell our bills for what we could get from the merchants, and when we came back we found our farms uncultivated, our cattle gone, and our wives and children very miserable; so, you see, my white brothers, we have come step by step further and further and further, and I am heart-sore, and would fain listen to the word that my son Vander Roey shall bring; for I had rather die in peace with all men and with my face turned to the west, than with anger in my heart."

Hans brought in, on some sticks, some slices of broiled gnoo, and there was a rusty tin dish, filled with rice and _carbonatje_; the savoury steam was grateful to the senses of even the melancholy Gray, and some coa.r.s.e but sweet bread and a calabash of Cape brandy being added to the refection, the adventurers did full justice to their hostess's hospitable display.

The bald rocks of Asphogels' Kop, a peak distinguished from the other heights of the Stormberg by this name, were s.h.i.+ning like snow in the rays of the newly-risen silver moon, when Lynx and Frolic put their impish faces into the cave, and announced that Vander Roey and his escort were in sight of the Donder Berg, for a fire was blazing on the hill.

The old Boer crossed his hands on his breast, closed his eyes, and his lips moved, as Gray supposed, in prayer. The deserter sat down beside the aged Du Plessis; Madame Vander Roey, accompanied by Lyle, left the cave. On emerging from it, into the clear moonlit air, the latter saw that the whole bivouac was astir; there were some forty men and eight or nine women, several children, and a motley a.s.sembly of Hottentots, half-castes, and bushmen. These gathered together in a group near Madame Vander Roey, and the beads of approaching men and horses soon appeared above the long waving gra.s.s of the little plain, on which the encampment was spread in somewhat disorderly fas.h.i.+on.

The equestrian party came up leisurely, after the manner of those who bring no cheerful or decided tidings. The atmosphere was clear and light as that of day.

Madame Vander Roey said, in a low voice, to Lyle, "There is no good news!"

And so it proved. Vander Roey had not even bees admitted to an interview with Sir John Manvers; indeed, there was little time for treating with any one; for, as we have shown, the brand and the spear were abroad, and the colonists were looking with anxious eyes for the "sea-wagons from across the broad waters," and their freights of "red men."

The captain of the bivouac, Lodewyk, a boater, with a race almost covered with hair, arms bared to the elbow, but garnished, Kafir fas.h.i.+on, with bangles of bra.s.s, and a ring of ivory, a large straw hat on his head, and equipped with leather trowsers, girded with a belt containing immense pistols, and carrying besides an elephant gun, stepped forwards as Vander Roey swung himself from his jaded horse, and said, in a loud, distinct voice, in the Dutch language,

"Vander Roey, is it peace or war with our white brothers?"

"War," replied the Boer leader, abruptly, and strode on without greeting his wife, who followed him to the cave.

"War!" shouted Lodewyk--"War!" echoed Lyle; and Lodewyk, recognising the trader, whom he had had dealings with of late, turned to Lyle, and offered his hand.

Lyle grasped it.

"Let us smoke a pipe of tobacco together," said Lodewyk, and the two men strolled off towards the habitation of the latter; it was a domicile, half hut, half tent, formed of withered boughs and skins, and screened from the east by a scarp of rock, on which many a grotesque and unnatural-looking creature was depicted in yellow ochre and different-coloured chalks.

Circ.u.mstances conspired to induce Lyle to develop his plans and purposes sooner than he had first intended; there was something in the bearing of Lodewyk that chimed in with his own feverish desire to be up and doing; and, on the other hand, Lodewyk had been attracted by the hearty, dare-devil style in which the Englishman had flung up his hat, in the moonlight, and shouted "War! war! to the knife!"