The Mission; or Scenes in Africa Part 35

"I think we are clear of them now," said the Major; "they have evidently fallen into the trap proposed by that clever little fellow, Omrah."

"He is a very intelligent boy," observed Alexander, "and, travelling in this country, worth his weight in gold."

"I wish Swinton would make him over to me," said the Major; "but, Alexander, do you observe what a change there is already in the country?"

"I do indeed," replied Alexander; "and all ahead of us it appears to be still more sterile and bare."

"Yes, when you leave the rivers, you leave vegetation of all kinds almost. There is no regular rainy season at all here, Swinton says; we may expect occasional torrents of rain during three months, but they are very uncertain; the mountains attract the greater portion of the rain, and sometimes there will not be a shower on the plains for the whole year."

"How far shall we have to travel before we fall in with water again?"

inquired Alexander.

"Swinton says that there may be water in a river about sixty miles from where we started last night; if not, we shall have to proceed about thirty miles further, to the Gykoup or Vet River. After that we shall have to depend for many days upon the water we may find in the holes, which, as the season is now coming on, may probably be filled by the rain."

Alexander and his party rode for seven or eight miles before they fell in with the tracks of the caravan; they then pulled up their jaded horses, and proceeded at a more leisurely pace, so that it was not till late in the evening that they discovered the waggons at some distance, having pa.s.sed the dry bed of the Salt River ahead of them. During the whole day their horses had had neither food nor water, and the animals were much exhausted when they came up with the waggons. The oxen also were fatigued with so long a journey, having made nearly fifty miles since they started the evening before.

The country was now stony and sterile; a little vegetation was to be found here and there, but not sufficient to meet the wants of the animals, and water there was none. During the day but little game had been seen,--a few zebras and ostriches only; all other varieties had disappeared. There was of course no wood to light the fires round the encampment: a sufficiency for cooking their victuals had been thrown into the waggons, and two sheep were killed to supply a supper for so numerous a party. But the absence of game also denoted the absence of lions, and they were not disturbed during the night. In the morning the Griquas parted company with them, on the plea that their oxen and horses were in too poor a condition to pa.s.s over the desert, and that they must make a direct course for the Vaal River and return by its banks.

Our travellers gave them a good supply of ammunition, the only thing that they wished-for, and the Griquas, yoking their oxen to the crazy old waggon, set off in a westerly direction.

The route of the caravan was now directed more to the south-west, and they pa.s.sed over an uninterrupted plain strewed with small land-tortoises, and covered with a profusion of the gayest flowers.

About noon, after a sultry journey of nine hours, they fortunately arrived at a bog, in which they found a pool of most fetid water, which nothing but necessity could have compelled either them or the exhausted animals to drink. Near this pool in the desert they found several wild animals, and they obtained three gnoos for a supply of provision; the little wood that they had in the waggon for fuel was all used up in cooking their supper.

A heavy dew fell during the night, and in the morning, before the sun rose, they were enveloped in a thick fog. As the fog dispersed, they perceived herds of quaggas in all directions, but at a great distance.

They again yoked the oxen and proceeded on their journey; the country was now covered with herbage and flowers of every hue, and looked like a garden.

"How strange that the ground should be covered with flowers where there is no rain or water to be found," observed Alexander.

"It is the heavy dews of the night which support them," said Swinton, "and perhaps the occasional rains which fall."

A line of trees to the southward told them that they were now approaching an unnamed river, and the tired oxen quickened their pace; but on their arrival they found that the bed of the river was dry, and not even a drop of water was to be found in the pools. The poor animals, which had been unyoked, snuffed and smelt at the wet, damp earth, and licked it with their tongues, but could obtain no relief.

The water which they had had in the casks for their own drinking was now all gone; and there were no hopes of obtaining any till they arrived at the Vet River, at least twenty five to thirty miles distant. Two of the oxen lay down to rise no more, the countenances of the Hottentots were dejected and sullen, and our travellers felt that their situation was alarming.

While they were still searching and digging for water, the sky became overcast, thunder and lightning were seen and heard in the distance, and the clouds came rolling in volumes towards them. Hope was now in every face; they already antic.i.p.ated the copious showers which were to succeed; their eyes ever fixed upon the coming storm; even the cattle appeared to be conscious that relief was at hand. All that day the clouds continued to gather, and the lightning to gleam. Night closed in, but the rain had not yet fallen; the wind rose up, and in less than an hour all the clouds had pa.s.sed away, the stars shone out brightly, and they were left in a state of suffering and disappointment.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

As our travellers were sitting together, each occupied with his own melancholy thoughts, after the dispersion of the clouds and the antic.i.p.ated relief, the Major said--

"It is useless our remaining here; we must all perish if we do not proceed, and it would be better for us to yoke and travel by night; the animals will bear the journey better, and the people will not be so inclined to brood over their misfortunes when on the march as when thus huddled together here, and communicating their lamentations to dishearten each other. It is now nine o'clock; let us yoke and push on as far as we can."

"I agree with you, Major," said Alexander; "what do you say, Swinton?"

"I am convinced that it will be the best plan, so let us rouse up the people at once. There is the roar of a lion at some distance, and we have no fires to scare them off."

"The creaking of the waggon-wheels will be better than nothing," replied the Major.

The Hottentots were roused, and the orders given to yoke: the poor fellows were all sound asleep; for a Hottentot, when he hungers or thirsts, seeks refuge from all his miseries in sleep. The oxen were yoked, and they proceeded; but hardly had they gone a mile, when the roar of three or four lions, close upon them, caused such alarm to the horses and the oxen which were not yoked that they started off in a full gallop in a northerly direction.

Alexander, the Major, and Omrah, who were the best mounted, immediately set off in pursuit of them, desiring Swinton to proceed with the caravan, and they would drive on the cattle and join him. They galloped off as well as the horses could gallop, and perceived the stray horses and oxen still at full speed, as if they were chased by the lions. They followed in the direction, but it was now so dark that they were guided only by the clatter of their hoofs and their shoes in the distance; and after a chase of four or five miles they had lost all vestiges of them, and pulled up their panting steeds.

"We may as well go back again," said Alexander; "the animals must have made a circuit."

"I suppose so," said the Major; "but my horse trembles so, that I had better dismount for a little while, that he may recover himself; indeed, so had you too and Omrah, for the animals are completely worn-out."

"The clouds are rising again," said Alexander "I trust that we may not be disappointed a second time."

"Yes, and there is lightning again in the horizon--may the Almighty help us in our distress," exclaimed the Major.

The horses, exhausted from want of water, continued to pant so fearfully, that it was nearly half an hour before they ventured to mount, that they might return to the caravan. In the mean time the heavens had become wholly obscured by the clouds, and there was every prospect of a heavy shower; at last a few drops did fall.

"Thank G.o.d!" exclaimed Alexander, as he lifted his face up to the heavens, to feel the drops as they fell. "Now let us return."

They mounted their horses and set off; but the stars were no longer visible to guide them, and they proceeded on at a slow pace, uncertain whether they were right or wrong. This they cared little about; their thoughts were upon the coming rain, which they so anxiously awaited.

For more than three hours they were tantalised by the lightning flas.h.i.+ng and the thunder pealing, every moment expecting the flood-gates of the heavens to be opened but, as before, they were doomed to disappointment.

Before the morning dawned the clouds had again retreated; and when the sky was clear, they found by the stars that their horses' heads were turned to the northward and eastward.

They altered their course in silence, for they were worn-out and despondent; they suffered dreadfully from thirst, and it was pitiable to see the tongues of the poor horses hanging out of their mouths. Day dawned, and there were no signs of the caravan. A thick vapour was rising from every quarter, and they hoped that when it cleared up they would be more fortunate; but no, there was the same monotonous landscape, the same carpet of flowers without perfume. The sun was now three hours high, and the heat was intense; their tongues clove to the roofs of their mouths, while still they went on over flowery meads; but neither forest or pool, nor any trees which might denote the bed of the river, caught their earnest gaze.

"This is dreadful," said Alexander, at last, speaking with difficulty.

"We are lost, that is certain," said the Major; "but we must trust in G.o.d."

"Yes, we may now say, Lord help us, or we perish," replied Alexander.

At this moment, little Omrah, who had been behind, rode up to them, and offered them one of the Hottentots' pipes, which he had lighted; saying, "Smoke,--not feel so bad." Alexander took it, and after a few whiffs found that it had the effect of producing a little saliva, and he handed it to the Major, who did the same, and felt immediate relief.

They continued to walk their horses in a southerly direction; but the heat was now so great, that it became almost insufferable, and at last the horses stood still. They dismounted, and drove their horses slowly before them over the glowing plain; and now the mirage deluded and tantalised them in the strangest manner. At one time, Alexander pointed with delight (for he could not speak) to what he imagined to be the waggons; they pushed on, and found that it was a solitary quagga, magnified thus by the mirage. Sometimes they thought that they saw lakes of water in the distance, and hastened on to them; and then they fancied they were close to rivers and islands, covered with luxuriant foliage, but still were doomed to disappointment; as all was the result of the highly-rarefied air, and the refraction of the sun's rays on the sultry plain. What would they have given for a bush even to afford them any shelter from the noonday sun, for the crowns of their heads appeared as if covered with live coal, and their minds began to wander. The poor horses moved at the lowest pace, and only when driven on by Omrah, who appeared to suffer much less than his masters. Every now and then he handed to them the pipe, but at last even that had no longer any relief.

Speech had been for some hours totally lost. Gradually, however, the sun sunk down to the horizon, and as his scorching rays became less intense they to a certain degree recovered their wandering senses.

At night they sat down by the side of the horses, and, worn-out with fatigue and exhaustion, fell into a troubled sleep; a sleep which, if it relieved their worn-out frames, condemned them to the same tantalising feelings as had been created by the mirage during the day. They dreamed that they were in the bowers of paradise, hearing heavenly music; pa.s.sing from crystal stream to stream, slaking their thirst at each, and reclining on couches of verdant green. Everything that was delightful appeared to them in their dreams; they were in the abodes of bliss; and thus did they remain for an hour or two, when they were wakened up by the roar of a lion, which reminded them that they were without food or water in the desert.

They awoke speechless with thirst, their eyes inflamed, and their whole bodies burning like a coal, and the awful roar of the lion still reverberated along the ground. They started on their legs, and found Omrah close to them, holding the bridles of the horses, which were attempting to escape. They were still confused, when they were fully restored to their waking senses by a second roar of the lion still nearer to them; and, by the imperfect light of the stars, they could now distinguish the beast at about one hundred yards' distance. Omrah put the bridles of their two horses in their hands, and motioned them to go on in the direction opposite to where the lion was. They did so without reflection; mechanically obeying the directions of the man-child; and not perceiving that Omrah did not follow them. They had advanced about one hundred yards with the terrified animals, when another loud roar was followed up by the shriek of the other horse, announcing that he had become a victim to the savage animal. They both started, and, dropping the reins of their horses, hastened with their rifles to the help of Omrah, of whose absence they now for the first time were aware; but they were met half-way by the boy, who contrived to say with difficulty, "Lion want horse, not little Bushman." They waited a few seconds, but the cries of the poor animal, and the crus.h.i.+ng and cracking of its bones, were too painful to hear; and they hastened on, and rejoined the other horses, which appeared paralysed with fear, and had remained stationary.

They again led their horses on for an hour, when they arrived at a small pile of rocks; there they again laid down, for they were quite exhausted and careless of life. Not even the roar of a lion would have aroused them now, or if it had roused them they would have waited for the animal to come and put an end to their misery. But another and a softer noise attracted the quick ear of Omrah, and he pushed Alexander, and put his finger up to induce him to listen.

Having listened a little longer, Omrah made signs to Alexander and the Major to follow him. The noise which Omrah had heard was the croaking of a frog, which denoted water at hand, and the sniffing of the horses confirmed him in his supposition. Omrah led the way through the rocks, descending lower and lower; and ever and anon listening to the noise of the animal, till he perceived the stars of the heavens above reflected in a small pool, which he pointed out to Alexander and the Major. Down they dropped to the earth and drank; and as soon as their thirst was satisfied they rose, and pushed Omrah forward to make him drink also; and as the boy who had saved their lives was drinking, they knelt down and prayed,--not loud, for they had not yet recovered their speech; but if ever grateful prayers were offered up to the Almighty throne, they were by our two travellers, as they knelt by the side of this small pool. They rose and hastened to their horses, and led them down to the water, when the poor animals filled themselves almost to bursting, walked away, and returned to drink more. They also repeated their draught several times, and then lay down, and would have fallen asleep by the side of the pool, had not Omrah, who could now speak freely, said, "No, no; lion come here for water; up the rock again and sleep there--I bring horses." This good advice was followed, and when they had gained the summit of the rising ground they again laid down and slept till daylight.

When they awoke, they found themselves much refreshed; but they now felt,--what they had not done during their extreme suffering from thirst--the craving pangs of hunger. Omrah was fast asleep, and the horses picking among the herbage, about two hundred yards off.

"We have much to thank G.o.d for," said Alexander to the Major.

"We have indeed, and, next to divine aid, we have to thank that poor boy. We have been as children in his hands, and we are indebted to him and his resources for our lives this night. I could not speak yesterday, nor could you; but his courage in remaining with the horse as an offering to the lion, I shall not forget."

"He is a child of the desert," replied Alexander; "he has been brought up among lions, and where there is scarcity of water, and he has most wonderfully guided us in our path; but we are still in the desert, and have lost our companions. What must we do? Shall we attempt to regain the caravan, or push off to the westward, to fall in with the river again?"

"We will talk of that an hour hence," replied the Major; "let us now go down to the pool, and as soon as I have had a drink I will try if I cannot kill something for a meal. My hunger is now almost as great as was my thirst."