Part 36 (2/2)

Hintza rode on; the troops followed as they best could. They were now nearing the huts. At length, making a desperate effort, the Colonel dashed close up to the chief. Having now no weapon, he seized him by the collar of his kaross, or cloak, and, with a violent effort, hurled him to the ground. Both horses were going at racing speed. The Colonel, unable to check his, pa.s.sed on, but before he was beyond reach the agile savage had leaped to his feet, drawn another a.s.sagai from the bundle which he carried, and hurled it after his enemy. So good was the aim that the weapon pa.s.sed within a few inches of the Colonel's body.

The act afforded time to those behind to come up. Although Hintza turned aside instantly and ran down the steep bank of the Xabecca, the foremost of the guides--named Southey--got within gun-shot and shouted in the Kafir tongue to the chief to stop. No attention being paid to the order, he fired, and Hintza fell, wounded in the left leg. Leaping up in a moment, he resumed his flight, when Southey fired again, and once more the chief was. .h.i.t and pitched forward, but rose instantly and gained the cover of the thicket which lined the bank of the river.

Southey leaped off his horse and gave chase, closely followed by Lieutenant Balfour of the 72nd regiment. The former kept up, and the latter down, the stream.

They had proceeded thus in opposite directions some distance when Southey was startled by an a.s.sagai striking the cliff on which he was climbing. Turning sharply, he saw Hintza's head and his uplifted arm among the bushes within a few feet of him. The savage was in the act of hurling another a.s.sagai. Quick as thought the guide levelled his gun and fired. The shot completely shattered the upper part of Hintza's skull, and next instant a mangled corpse was all that remained of the paramount chief of Kafirland.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE RESULTS OF WAR.

”Peace at last!” said Edwin Brook to George Dally, on arriving at his ravaged and herdless farm in the Zuurveld, whither George had preceded him.

”Peace is it, sir? Ah, that's well. It's about time too, for we've got a deal to do--haven't we, sir?”

George spoke quite cheerily, under the impression that his master required comforting.

”You see, sir, we've got to go back pretty well to where we was in 1820, and begin it all over again. It _is_ somewhat aggrawatin'! Might have been avoided, too, if they'd kep' a few more troops on the frontier.”

”Well, Jack, the treaty is signed at last,” said Robert Skyd to his brother, as he sat on his counter in Grahamstown, drumming with his heels.

”Not too soon,” replied John Skyd, taking a seat on the same convenient lounge. ”It has cost us something: houses burnt all over the settlement, from end to end; crops destroyed; cattle carried off, and, worst of all, trade almost ruined--except in the case of lucky fellows like you, Bob, who sell to the troops.”

”War would not have broken out at all,” returned Bob, ”if the Kafirs had only been managed with a touch of ordinary common sense in times past.

Our losses are tremendous. Just look at the Kafir trade, which last year I believe amounted to above 40,000 pounds,--_that's_ crushed out altogether in the meantime, and won't be easily revived. Kafirs in hundreds were beginning to discard their dirty karosses, and to buy blankets, handkerchiefs, flannels, baize, cotton, knives, axes, and what not, while the traders had set up their stores everywhere in Kafirland-- to say nothing of your own business, Jack, in the gum, ivory, and shooting way, and our profits thereon. We were beginning to flourish so well, too, as a colony. I believe that we've been absorbing annually somewhere about 150,000 pounds worth of British manufactured articles-- not to mention other things, and now--Oh, Jack, mankind is a monstrous idiot!”

”Peace comes too late for us, Gertie,” said Hans Marais to his wife, on their return to the old homestead on the karroo, which presented nothing but a blackened heap of dry mud, bricks, and charred timbers; herds and flocks gone--dreary silence in possession--the very picture of desolation.

”Better late than never,” remarked Charlie Considine sadly. ”We must just set to work, re-stock and re-build. Not so difficult to do so as it might have been, however, owing to that considerate uncle of mine.

We're better off than some of our poor neighbours who have nothing to fall back upon. They say that more than 3000 persons have been reduced to dest.i.tution; 500 farm-houses have been burnt and pillaged; 900 horses, 55,000 sheep and goats, and above 30,000 head of cattle carried off, only a few of which were recovered by Colonel Smith on that expedition when Hintza was killed. However, we'll keep up heart and go to work with a will--shan't we, my little wife!”

Bertha--now Bertha Considine--who leaned on Charlie's arm, spoke not with her lips, but she lifted her bright blue eyes, and with these orbs of light declared her thorough belief in the wisdom of what ever Charlie might say or do.

”They say it's all settled!” cried Jerry Goldboy, hastily entering Kenneth McTavish's stable.

”What's all settled?” demanded Sandy Black.

”Peace with the Kafirs,” said Jerry.

”Peace wi' the Kawfirs!” echoed Sandy, in a slightly contemptuous tone.

”H'm! they should never hae had war wi' them, Jerry, my man.”

”But 'aving 'ad it, ain't it well that it's hover?” returned Jerry.

”It's cost us a bonnie penny,” rejoined Black.

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