Part 1 (2/2)
”Well met, I say again, whether we be friends or foes,” returned Considine still more heartily, ”for if we be friends we shall fraternise; if we be foes we shall fight, and I would rather fight you for love, hate, or fun, than die of starvation in the karroo.”
”What is your name, and where do you come from?” demanded the stranger.
”One question at a time, if you please,” answered the youth. ”My name is Charles Considine. What is yours?”
”Hans Marais.”
”Well, Mr Marais, I come from England, which is my native home. In the coming I managed to get wrecked in Table Bay, landed at Capetown, joined a frontier farmer, and came up here--a long and roughish journey, as probably you know, and as my garments testify. On the way I lost my comrades, and in trying to find them lost myself. For two days nothing in the shape of meat or drink has pa.s.sed my lips, and my poor horse has fared little better in the way of drink, though the karroo-bush has furnished him with food enough to keep his bones together. So now, you have my biography in brief, and if you be a man possessed of any powers of sympathy, you will know what to do.”
The young Dutchman held out his huge hand, which Considine grasped and shook warmly.
”Come,” he said, while a slight smile played on his bronzed countenance; ”I have nothing here to give you, but if you will come with me to yon koppie you shall have both meat and drink.”
The koppie to which he referred was a scarce discernible knoll on the horizon.
Hans Marais seemed to be a man of few words, for he turned and galloped away, without for some time uttering another syllable to his companion.
As for Considine, the thought of once more feasting on any sort of meat and drink was so fascinating, in his then ravenous condition, that he cared for nought else, and followed his guide in silence.
Soon the herbage on the plain became more luxuriant, and in half an hour the two hors.e.m.e.n found themselves riding among scattered groups of mimosa bushes, the thorns of which were from three to five inches long, while their sweet fragrance scented the whole atmosphere.
On reaching the ridge of one of the undulations of the plain, Hans Marais drew rein and gazed intently towards the distant horizon. At the same time Considine's horse p.r.i.c.ked up its ears, pawed the ground, and exhibited unwonted signs of a desire to advance.
”Hallo, Rob!” exclaimed its master, ”what's wrong with you?”
”Your horse has been gifted by his Maker with a power,” said Hans, ”which has been denied to man. He scents water. But before he shall taste it he must help me to procure fresh meat. Do you see the boks on that koppie?”
”Do you mean those white specks like ostrich eggs on the hillock to the right of the big bush?”
”The same. These are springboks. Ride away down by that hollow till you get somewhat in their rear, and then drive them in the direction of that clump of bushes on our left, just under the sun.”
Without waiting for a reply Hans rode off at a gallop, and Considine proceeded to obey orders.
A few minutes sufficed to bring him close to the springboks, which beautiful antelopes no sooner observed him than, after one brief gaze of surprise, they bounded away in the direction of the bushes indicated by Hans,--conscious apparently of their superior fleetness, for they seemed in no great haste, but leaped about as if half in play, one and another taking an occasional spring of six feet or more into the air. As they pa.s.sed the bushes towards which Considine drove them, a white puff was seen to burst from them, and the huge roer of Hans Marais sent forth its bellowing report. It seemed as if the entire flock of boks had received an electric shock, so high did they spring into the air. Then they dashed off at full speed, leaving one of their number dead upon the plain.
When Considine came up he found that Hans had already disembowelled the springbok, and was in the act of fastening the carcase on his horse behind the saddle. Remounting immediately, the hunter galloped towards a mound, on the top of which the bushes formed a dense brake. Skirting this till he reached the other side, he pulled up, exclaiming--
”There, you'll find good water in the hollow; go drink, while I prepare supper on the koppie.”
Considine went off at once. Indeed, he could not have done otherwise, for his impatient horse took the bit in its mouth and galloped towards a small pool of water, which was so yellow with mud that it resembled thin pea-soup.
Thirsty though he was, the youth could not help smiling at his new friend's idea of ”good” water, but he was not in a condition to be fastidious. Jumping out of the saddle, he lay down on his breast, dipped his lips into the muddy liquid, and drank with as much enjoyment as if the beverage had been nectar--or Ba.s.s. Rob Roy also stood, in a state of perfect bliss, in the middle of the pool, sucking the water in with unwearied vigour. It seemed as if man and horse had laid a wager as to who should drink most. At last, the point of utmost capacity in both was reached, and they retired with a sigh of contentment, Rob Roy to browse on the plain, and his master to betake himself to the encampment on the knoll, where Hans Marais quickly supplied him with glorious steaks of springbok venison.
”Isn't it an enjoyable thing to eat when one is hungry, eh?” said Considine, after half an hour's silent devotion to the duty in hand.--”Why, where got you that?”
He referred to an ostrich egg which his companion had taken from a saddle-bag, and in one end of which he was busy boring a hole.
”Found it in the sand just before I found you,” said Hans. ”Did you ever eat one?”
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