Part 14 (1/2)
”See there,” observed Mr Daveney; ”at the very farthest ridge is a gleam like a star, this is but a link in the chain which began in some far valley within the frontier line, and is pa.s.sing from hill to hill to the distant bluffs overhanging the sea near the Kei.”
The servants were a.s.sembling in the trellised pa.s.sage to wait their master's orders, the ladies and Ormsby were still busied in the dining-room, and Frankfort was intent on May's entreaties that a party might be sent under his guidance in search of Piet's wagon, when the deep stillness of the night was broken by a cry so unearthly, so shrill, yet so strangely prolonged, that all stood still to listen.
It was the war-cry of Kafirland!
It came from the farthest mountain-tops, advanced as though a voice, trumpet-tongued, pa.s.sed over the hills, descended to the plains, rose again, the echoes following it. Fainter, fainter, it dies away at last into a wailing cry, only to be repeated at the starting point, taken up, pa.s.sed on as before, and sent again wailing through the great solitudes from the Amatolas to the ocean.
Silence, dread and profound, fell upon many tenants of the mansion in that appalling hour. Mr Daveney and his guest re-entered the dining-room--Eleanor had sunk upon a chair to receive her falling sister in her arms, Marion's face was buried in her sister's lap; Mrs Daveney, in the act of giving a musket to the Griqua, stood transfixed with awe, for she well knew what that unearthly cry portended, and Ormsby had opened the door leading to the trellised pa.s.sage, and stood there with the servants drawn up awaiting the orders of their master.
We read of the heroines of old, who armed their heroes for the battle, or went forth commanding armies; but it is not to such as these our hearts yield the tribute of earnest admiration: that calm fort.i.tude, which stands in better stead than the daring elicited by excitement-- that dignified resignation, which prepares itself to meet danger--that self-abnegation, which sets aside all difference of opinion, and unites with all ranks of life in the common cause of defence, is worth all the sudden impulses of bravery which history has immortalised. The records of our colonies would furnish forth subject-matter for many a bard; but they want, so to speak, dramatic colouring, though one would think the terrific scenes of blazing homesteads and blood-stained hearths were not without what reporters would call ”effect.” Verily, our English settlers' wives, with their patient, work-a-day endurance, would need the pen of a Goldsmith or a Crabbe to set them in their proper light.
Eleanor Daveney would have made a charming foreground for such a picture as men like these have loved to draw.
Mrs Daveney issued orders in conjunction with her husband, apportioned to each man his store of ammunition, loosed to the priming of the muskets in the hands of the herd-boys, who were more accustomed to the a.s.segai and the k.n.o.b-kierrie than to our firearms; but Eleanor, while she soothed her more excitable sister's fears, had a word of encouragement for every one; and, rousing Marion, bid her accompany her to the stoep, and comfort the women, who were there huddled together in mute terror.
Poor May, who, in the extremity of danger to the household, could not obtain a hearing, now rushed past the sisters like a madman, and, springing over the gateway, sped out into the wilderness. They could hear the terrier yelping at his heels ever so far, and Frankfort, thoroughly dismayed at the idea, at once gave his faithful bushman up for lost.
Eleanor had some comfort for him.
”These defiances from the hills,” said she, ”are so decided, that there is no doubt the a.s.segai hangs over our heads by a single hair; still the object of these creatures is plunder. When they attack the settlement, it will be in a quiet guise. If May keeps his wits about him as he used--as he used to do--he will find his way uninterrupted.”
”Ah!” said Frankfort, ”you have seen my friend May before?”
Eleanor hesitated, but only for a moment, and replied--
”Yes, we remember him when quite a boy.”
Candour evidently prevailed over a seeming reluctance to refer to the past; and yet there was nothing singular in Eleanor Daveney's remembrance of May, who had been employed from childhood about the English quarters and locations. It was simply her sudden pause, hesitation, and hurried tone in admitting the truth, which had attracted Frankfort's notice.
Ormsby, on hearing the bushman had sped into the wilderness, grew furious with Piet, and wished Frankfort had taken his advice in forbidding Fitje's accompanying her husband. Frankfort reproached himself for not riding in the rear of the cavalcade, and keeping the party together, but time was too precious for unavailing regret; it was deemed prudent to close and secure the front of the dwelling, Eleanor consoling Marion by reminding her that, for the present, the war-cry of Kafirland was their best personal security, since ”you know,” said she, ”that unlike the honest faces of civilised lands, the Kafir comes not with beating drum and flying standard; and the settler of South Africa is safest when face to face with his wicked neighbour. Yet,” added Eleanor, ”why should I call the Kafir wicked?--it is not for me to judge.”
Again there arose that shrill, terrific war-cry. Marion shuddered, and wound her arms round her sister's slender waist.
”Poor wretches!” said Eleanor, lifting her mournful eyes to heaven--”poor misguided beings!” and, clasping her hands, her lips moved in inaudible prayer.
Frankfort watched her as she implored Heaven in behalf of the unhappy savages, and could not help contrasting her mild courage with her mother's authoritative air of resolution and her sister's utter helplessness and terror.
All night long the little garrison of Annerley stood to its arms, the sentinels immovable at the outposts, Daveney and Frankfort going the rounds at intervals, Ormsby in command of the party guarding the rearward premises, his head-quarters being the trellised pa.s.sage, from which he occasionally looked in upon the ladies. He had been particularly requested by his host to act under the directions of the old Griqua, who had been a soldier in the Cape Corps, and whose experience was invaluable; and, what was more than Frankfort had expected, Ormsby had the good sense to see this, and acknowledge it.
Daveney, albeit far from easy as to the safety of his family, would not permit his domestic troubles to interfere with his duties as master of a household.
Once, when on his rounds with Frankfort, he looked in upon the group, and asked how all went on. Marmion had made his way into the sitting-room, and stretched himself at Eleanor's feet, with his black muzzle to the ground, and ears and eyes wide open, keeping watch and ward over the group. Marion lay on a couch, her head pillowed on her sister's arm, and fast asleep, her ringlets hanging, all dishevelled, round her, and Mrs Daveney's anxious gaze was riveted on a loop-hole looking eastward, watching with weary heart the long-coming of the dawn.
So wore on the night. The fires on the hills died away; the gorgeous sun, opening his gates of glory, came forth to dispel the smoke and vapours that obscured the distant mountains and floated over the plains; the night sentinels were relieved, and other watches set; the house was put in order for the morning refreshment, so much needed; the herdsmen, well armed, led the cattle to the open ground fronting the settlement, and the ladies retired to their own apartments for a while.
Frankfort then expressed his deep anxiety about the missing members of his train; but as it was considered by his host highly imprudent to reduce the force of the garrison under present circ.u.mstances, there was nothing for it but to leave May to his known sagacity, and hope that old Piet had not brought himself and others into danger through his obstinacy and imprudence; for there was no denying that the vley indicated by May as the outspan was flanked on one side by a dense bush, a notorious haunt of Kafirs.
Our two sportsmen were ushered by Mr Daveney into a tolerably-sized apartment, divided by a wooden part.i.tion running little more than half way to the roof. Everything was in the most homely style, but exquisitely neat. In each domicile was a small camp bedstead, table, chair, and chest of drawers, all manufactured by their ingenious host.
Sheepskin mats were spread on the earthen floor, and the walls, originally white-washed, were gaily papered with manifold prints and engravings from some of those publications which, for the last fifteen years, have taken England and her customs through the length and breadth of the earth. The windows were, of course, partially screened by brickwork; but the sun pierced one of the loops, and shed its rays on the picture of a popular _danseuse_. Frankfort would have smiled at the a.s.sociations called forth by such an anomaly, but his heart misgave him about his faithful servant, and though he lay down, he could not rest, and he longed to start in search of May; but that would have been absurdly imprudent.