menu_book Chapter 17

CHAPTER II. What was found in the pool? Something over a fortnight had passed since the night when I had lost half a sovereign, and found twelve hundred and fifty pounds in looking for it. And instead of that horrid hole, for which after all El Dorado was scarcely a misnomer,

a very different scene stretched away before us, clad in the silver robe of the moonlight. We were camped, Harry and I, two cafiers, a Scotch cart and six oxen, on the swelling side of a great wave of bush-clad land. Just where we had made our camp, however, the bush was very sparse, and only grew about in clumps, while here and there were single flat-topped mimosa trees.

To our right, a little stream which had cut a deep channel for itself in the bosom of the slope, flowed musically on between banks green with maiden hair, wild asparagus and many beautiful grasses. The bedrock here was red granite, and in the course of centuries of patient washing the water had hollowed out some of the huge slabs in its path into great troughs and cups, and

these were used for bathing places. No Roman lady with her baths of porphyry or alabaster could have had a more delicious spot to bathe herself than we found within fifty yards of our skirm, a rough enclosure of mimosa thorn, that we had dragged together round the cart to protect us from the attacks of lions.

That there were several of these brutes about I knew from their spore, though we had neither heard nor seen them. Our bath was a little nook where the eddy of the stream had washed away a mass of soil, and on the edge of it there grew a most beautiful old mimosa thorn. Beneath the thorn was a large smooth slab of granite, fringed all round with maiden

hair and other ferns that sloped gently down to a pool of the clearest sparkling water, which lay in a bowl of granite about ten feet wide by five deep in the centre. Here to this slab we went every morning to bathe, and that delightful bath is among the most pleasant of my hunting reminiscences, as it is also, for reasons which will presently appear, among the most painful.

It was a lovely night. Harry and I sat to the windward of the fire, where two cafiers were busily employed in cooking some impala steaks off a buck which Harry to his great joy had shot that morning, and were as perfectly contented with ourselves and the world at large as two people could possibly be.

The night was beautiful, and it would require somebody with more words on the tip of his tongue than I have to describe properly the chastened majesty of those moonlit wilds. Away forever and forever, away to the mysterious north, rolled the great bush ocean over which the silence brooded. There beneath us a mile or two to the right ran the wide olifants, and a mirror-like

flashed back the moon, whose silver spears were shivered on its breast, and then tossed in twisted lines of light far and wide about the mountains and the plain. Down upon the river-banks grew great timber-trees that through the stillness pointed solemnly to heaven, and the beauty of the night lay upon them like a cloud. There was silence, silence in the star-depths, silence on the bosom of the sleeping earth.

Now, if ever, great thoughts might rise in a man's mind, and for a space he might forget his littleness in the sense that he partook of the pure immensity about him. Hark! What was that? From far away down by the river there comes a mighty rolling sound, then another and another.

It is the lion seeking his meat. I saw Harry shiver and turn a little pale. He was a plucky boy enough, but the roar of a lion heard for the first time in the solemn bush-felt at night is apt to shake the nerves of any lad. Lions, my boy, I said, they are hunting down by the river there, but I don't think that

you need make yourself uneasy. We have been here three nights now, and if they were going to pay us a visit, I believe that they would have done so before this. However, we will make up the fire. Here, Pharaoh, do you and Jim Jim get some more wood before we go to sleep, else the

cats will be purring round you before morning. Pharaoh, a great brawny swazi who had been working for me at Pilgrim's Rest, laughed, rose, and stretched himself, then calling to Jim Jim to bring the axe and a rime, started off in the moonlight towards a clump of sugar bush where we cut our fuel from some dead trees.

He was a fine fellow in his way was Pharaoh, and I think that he had been named Pharaoh because he had an Egyptian caste of countenance and a royal sort of swagger about him. But his way was a somewhat peculiar way on account of the uncertainty of his temper, and very few people could get on with him. Also, if he could find liquor, he would drink like a fish, and when he drank, he became

shockingly bloodthirsty. These were his bad points. His good ones were that like most people of the Zulu blood, he became exceedingly attached if he took to you at all. He was a hardworking and intelligent man, and about as daredevil and plucky a fellow

at a pinch as I have ever had to do with. He was about five and thirty years of age or so, but not a keshla or ringed man. I believe that he had got into trouble in some way in Swaziland, and the authorities of his tribe would not allow him to assume the ring, and this is why he came to work at the goldfields.

The other man, or rather lad, Jim Jim, was a mapok kafir, or knob-nose, and even in the light of subsequent events, I fear that I cannot speak very well of him. He was an idle and careless young rascal, and only that very morning I had to tell Pharaoh to give him a beating for letting the oxen stray, which Pharaoh did with the greatest gusto, although he was by way of being very fond of Jim Jim.

Indeed, I saw him consoling Jim Jim afterwards with a pinch of snuff from his own ear-box, while he explained to him that the next time it came in the way of duty to flog him, he thrash him with the other hand, so as to cross the old cuts and make a pretty pattern on his back. Well, off they went, though Jim Jim did not at all like leaving the camp at that hour,

even when the moonlight was so bright, and in due course returned safely enough with a great bundle of wood. I laughed at Jim Jim and asked him if he had seen anything, and he said yes he had. He had seen two large yellow eyes staring at him from behind a bush, and heard something snore.

As, however, on further investigation, the yellow eyes and the snore appeared to have existed only in Jim Jim's lively imagination, I was not greatly disturbed by this alarming report, but having seen to the making up of the fire, got into the skirm and went quietly to sleep with Harry by my side. Some hours afterwards, I woke up with a start.

I don't know what woke me. The moon had gone down, or at least was almost hidden behind the soft horizon of bush, only her red rim being visible. Also, the wind had sprung up, and was driving long hurrying lines of cloud across the starry sky, and altogether a great change had come over the mood of the night.

By the look of the sky, I judged that we must be about two hours from daybreak. The oxen, which were as usual tied to the disalbum of the Scotch cart, were very restless. They kept snuffling and blowing and rising up and lying down again, so I at once suspected that they must win something. Presently, I knew what it was that they winded, for within fifty yards of us, a lion roared,

not very loud, but quite loud enough to make my heart come into my mouth. Pharaoh was sleeping on the other side of the cart, and looking beneath it, I saw him raise his head and listen. Lion, in cuss, he whispered, lion. Jim Jim also jumped up, and by the faint light, I could see that he was in a very great fright

indeed. Thinking that it was as well to be prepared for emergencies, I told Pharaoh to throw wood upon the fire, and woke up Harry, who I verily believe was capable of sleeping happily through the crack of doom. He was a little scared at first, but presently the excitement of the position came home to

him and he grew anxious to see his majesty face to face. I got my rifle handy and gave Harry his, a Wesley Richards falling block, which is a very useful gun for a youth, being light and yet a good killing rifle, and then we waited. For a long time nothing happened, and I began to think that the best thing we could do would be to go to sleep again, when suddenly I heard a sound more like a cough than a roar within

about twenty yards of the scurm. We all looked out but could see nothing, and then followed another period of suspense. It was very trying to the nerves this waiting for an attack that might be developed from any quarter, or might not be developed at all. And though I was an old hand at this sort of business, I was anxious about Harry, for

it is wonderful how the presence of anybody to whom one is attached unnerves a man in moments of danger. I know, although it was now chilly enough, I could feel the perspiration running down my nose, and in order to relieve the strain on my attention, employed myself in watching a beetle which appeared to be attracted by the firelight, and was sitting before it thoughtfully,

rubbing his antennae against each other. Suddenly the beetle gave such a jump that he nearly pitched headlong into the fire, and so did we all. Gave jumps I mean, and no wonder, for from right under the scurm fence there came a most frightful roar, a roar that literally made the scotch cart shake, and took the breath

out of me. Harry made an exclamation, Jim Jim howled outright, while the poor oxen who were terrified almost out of their hides, shivered and loathe piteously. The night was almost entirely dark now, for the moon had quite set and the clouds had covered up the stars, so that the only light we had came from the fire, which by this time

was burning up brightly again. But as you know, firelight is absolutely useless to shoot by, it is so uncertain, and besides, it penetrates but a very little way into the darkness, although if one is in the dark outside, one can see it from so far away. Presently the oxen, after standing still for a moment, suddenly winded the lion, and did

what I feared they would do, began to skrek, that is to try and break loose from the trektoe to which they were tied, and rush off madly into the wilderness. Lions know of this habit on the part of oxen, which are, I do believe, the most foolish animals under the sun, a sheep being a very Solomon compared to them, and it is by no means uncommon for a lion to get in such a position that a herd or span of oxen may wind

him, skrek, break their rhymes and rush off into the bush. Of course, once there, they are helpless in the dark, and then the lion chooses the one that he loves best, and eats him at his leisure. Well, round and round went our six poor oxen, nearly trampling us to death in their mad rush.

Indeed, had we not hastily tumbled out of the way, we should have been trodden to death, or at the least seriously injured. As it was, Harry was run over, and poor Jim Jim, being caught by the trektoe somewhere was hurled right across the skirm, landing by my side only some paces off. Snap! went the disselboom of the cart beneath the transfer strain put upon it.

Had it not broken, the cart would have overset. As it was, in another minute, oxen, cart, trektoe, rhymes, broken disselboom, and everything were soon tied in one vast heaving, plunging, bellowing, and seemingly inextricable knot. For a moment or two, this state of affairs took my attention off from the lion that had caused it.

But whilst I was wondering what on earth was to be done next, and how we should manage if the cattle broke loose into the bush and were lost, the cattle frightened in this manner would go straight away like mad things. My thoughts were suddenly recalled to the lion in a very painful fashion. For at that moment I perceived by the light of the fire a kind of gleam of yellow travelling

through the air towards us. The lion! the lion! hollered Pharaoh, and as he did so, he, or rather she, for it was a great gaunt lioness, half-wild no doubt with hunger, lit right in the middle of the skirm and stood there in the smoky gloom, lashing her tail and roaring. I seized my rifle and fired it at her, but what between the confusion, my agitation,

and the uncertain light? I missed her and nearly shot Pharaoh. The flash of the rifle, however, threw the whole scene into strong relief, and a wild sight it was, I can tell you, with the seething mass of oxen twisted all round the cart in such a fashion that their heads looked as though they were growing out of their ramps,

and their horns seemed to protrude from their backs. The smoking fire with just a blaze in the heart of the smoke, Jim Jim in the foreground, where the oxen had thrown him in their wild rush, stretched out there in terror, and then, as a centre to the picture, the great gaunt lioness glaring round with hungry yellow eyes, roaring and whining as she made up her mind what to do.

It did not take her long, however, just the time that it takes a flash to die into darkness, for, before I could fire again or do anything with a most fiendish snort, she sprang upon poor Jim Jim. I heard the unfortunate lad shriek, and then, almost instantly, I saw his legs thrown into the air.

The lioness had seized him by the neck, and with a sudden jerk, thrown his body over her so that his legs hung down upon the further side. Editors note, I have known a lion carry a two-year-old ox over a stone wall four feet high in this fashion, and a mile away into the bush beyond. He was subsequently poisoned by strychnine put into the carcass of the ox, and I still

have his claws. End of note. Then, without the slightest hesitation, and apparently without any difficulty, she cleared the skirm fence at a single bound, and bearing poor Jim Jim with her, vanished into the darkness beyond in the direction of the bathing place that I have already described.

We jumped up, perfectly mad with horror and fear, and rushed wildly after her, firing shots at haphazard on the chance that she would be frightened by them into dropping her prey. But nothing could we see, and nothing could we hear. The lioness had vanished into the darkness, taking Jim Jim with her, and to attempt to

follow her till daylight was madness. We should only expose ourselves to the risk of a like fate. So, with scared and heavy hearts, we crept back to the skirm, and sat down to wait for the dawn, which now could not be more than an hour off. It was absolutely useless to try even to disentangle the ox until then.

So all that was left for us to do was to sit and wonder how it came to pass, that the one should be taken and the other left, and to hope against hope that our poor servant might have been mercifully delivered from the lion's jaws. At length the faint dawn came stealing like a ghost up the long slope of bush, and glinted on the tangled oxen's horns.

And with white and frightened faces, we got up and set to the task of disentangling the oxen, till such time as there should be light enough to enable us to follow the trail of the lioness which had gone off with Jim Jim. And here a fresh trouble awaited us, for when at last with infinite difficulty we had disentangled the great helpless brutes, it was only to find that one of the best of them was very

sick. There was no mistake about the way he stood, with his legs slightly apart and his head hanging down. He had got the red water. I was sure of it.

Of all the difficulties connected with life and travelling in South Africa, those connected with oxen are perhaps the worst. The ox is the most exasperating animal in the world, a negro accepted. He has absolutely no constitution, and never neglects an opportunity of falling sick of some mysterious disease.

He will get thin upon the slightest provocation, and from mere maliciousness die of poverty, whereas it is his chief delight to turn round and refuse to pull whenever he finds himself well in the centre of a river, or the wagon wheel nicely fast in a mud hole. Drive him a few miles over rough roads, and you will find that he is foot-sore. Turn him loose to feed, and you will discover that he has run away, or if he has not run

away, he has, of malice of all thought, eaten tulip and poisoned himself. There is always something wrong with him. The ox is a brute. It was of a piece with his accustomed behaviour for the one in question to break out, on purpose probably, with red water, just when a lion had walked off with his herd.

It was exactly what I should have expected, that I was therefore neither disappointed nor surprised. Well, it was no use crying, as I should almost have liked to do, because if this ox had red water, it was probable that the rest of them had it too, although they had been sold to me as salted, that is, proof against such diseases as red water and lung-sick.

One gets hardened to this sort of thing in South Africa in course of time, for I suppose in no other country in the world is the waste of animal life so great. So, taking my rifle and telling Harriet to follow me, for we had to leave Pharaoh to look after the oxen, Pharaoh's lean kind I call them, I started to see if anything could be found of or appertaining to the unfortunate Jim Jim.

The ground round our little camp was hard and rocky, and we could not hit off any spore of the lioness, though just outside the scurm we saw a drop or two of blood. About 300 yards from the camp, and a little to the right, was a patch of sugar bush, mixed up with the usual mimosa, and for this I made, thinking that the lioness would have been sure to take her prey there to devour it.

On we pushed through the long grass that was bent down beneath the weight of the soaking dew. In two minutes we were wet through, up to the thighs, as wet as though we had waded through water. In due course, however, we reached the patch of bush, and by the grey light of the morning,

cautiously and slowly pushed our way into it. It was very dark under the trees, for the sun was not yet up, so we walked with the most extreme care, half expecting every minute to come across the lioness licking the bones of poor Jim Jim. But no lioness could we see, and as for Jim Jim, there was not even a finger joint of

him to be found. Evidently, they had not come here. So, pushing through the bush, we proceeded to hunt every other likely spot, but with the same result. I suppose she must have taken him right away, I said at last, sadly enough.

At any rate, he will be dead by now, so God have mercy on him. We can't help him. What's to be done now? I suppose that we had better wash ourselves in the pool, and then go back and get something to eat.

I am filthy, said Harry. This was a practical, if somewhat unfeeling, suggestion. At least it struck me as unfeeling, to talk of washing, when poor Jim Jim had been so recently eaten. However, I did not let my sentiment carry me away, so we went down to the beautiful

spot that I have described to wash. I was the first to reach it, which I did by scrambling down the ferny bank. Then I turned round, and started back with a yell, as well I might, for almost from beneath my feet there came a most awful snarl. I had lit nearly upon the back of the lioness that had been sleeping on the slab where we

always stood to dry ourselves after bathing. With a snarl and a growl, before I could do anything, before I could even cock my rifle, she had bounded right across the crystal pool, and vanished over the opposite bank. It was all done in an instant, as quick as thought. She had been sleeping on the slab, and oh, horror, what was that sleeping beside her?

It was the red remains of poor Jim Jim, lying on a patch of blood-stained rock. Oh, father, father! shrieked Harry. Look in the water! I looked. There, floating in the centre of the lovely tranquil pool, was Jim Jim's head.

The lioness had bitten it right off, and it had rolled down the sloping rock into the water. End of part 17.