Finished, H. Rider Haggard [e reader txt] 📗
- Author: H. Rider Haggard
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“A Boer, I expect,” said Marnham quietly. “As you know they are not particularly well affected towards us English just now. Also I happen to be aware that some of them are intriguing with Sekukuni against the British through Makurupiji, his ‘Mouth’ or prime-minister, a very clever old scamp who likes to have two stools to sit on.”
“And doubtless will end by falling between them. Well, you see, now that I think of it, the wounded Kaffir only said that they were ordered to take our guns and oxen, and incidentally our lives. The wagon was not mentioned.”
“Quite so, Mr. Quatermain. I will send some of our boys to help your servants to bring everything it contains up here.”
“Can’t you lend me a team of oxen,” I asked, “to drag it to the house?”
“No, we have nothing but young cattle left. Both red-water and lung-sickness have been so bad this season that all the horned stock have been swept out of the country. I doubt whether you could beg, borrow or steal a team of oxen this side of Pretoria, except from some of the Dutchmen who won’t part.”
“That’s awkward. I hoped to be able to trek in a day or two.”
“Your friend won’t be able to trek for a good many days at the best,” broke in the doctor, who had been listening unconcernedly, “but of course you could get away on the horse after it has rested.”
“You told me you left a span of oxen at Pretoria,” said Marnham. “Why not go and fetch them here, or if you don’t like to leave Mr. Anscombe, send your driver and the boys.”
“Thanks for the idea. I will think it over,” I answered.
That morning after Footsack and the voorlooper had been sent with some of the servants from the Temple to fetch up the contents of the wagon, for I was too tired to accompany them, having found that Anscombe was still asleep, I determined to follow his example. Finding a long chair on the stoep, I sat down and slumbered in it sweetly for hours. I dreamt of all sorts of things, then through my dreams it seemed to me that I heard two voices talking, those of our Marnham and Rodd, not on the stoep, but at a distance from it. As a matter of fact they were talking, but so far away that in my ordinary waking state I could never have heard them. My own belief is that the senses, and I may add the semi-spiritual part of us, are much more acute when we lie half bound in the bonds of sleep, than when we are what is called wide awake. Doubtless when we are quite bound they attain the limits of their power and, I think, sail at times to the uttermost ends of being. But unhappily of their experiences we remember nothing when we awake. In half sleep it is different; then we do retain some recollection.
In this curious condition of mind it seemed to me that Rodd said to Marnham—
“Why have you brought these men here?”
“I did not bring them here,” he answered. “Luck, Fate, Fortune, God or the Devil, call it what you will, brought them here, though if you had your wish, it is true they would never have come. Still, as they have come, I am glad. It is something to me, living in this hell, to get a chance of talking to English gentlemen again before I die.”
“English gentlemen,” remarked Rodd reflectively, “Well, Anscombe is of course, but how about that other hunter? After all, in what way is he better than the scores of other hunters and Kaffir traders and wanderers whom one meets in this strange land?”
“In what way indeed?” thought I to myself, in my dream.
“If you can’t see, I can’t explain to you. But as I happen to know, the man is of blood as good as mine—and a great deal better than yours,” he added with a touch of insolence. “Moreover, he has an honest name among white and black, which is much in this country.”
“Yes,” replied the doctor in the same reflective voice, “I agree with you, I let him pass as a gentleman. But I repeat, Why did you bring them here when with one more word it would have been so easy—” and he stopped.
“I have told you, it was not I. What are you driving at?”
“Do you think it is exactly convenient, especially when we are under the British flag again, to have two people who, we both admit, are English gentlemen, that is, clean, clear-eyed men, considering us and our affairs for an indefinite period, just because you wish for the pleasure of their society? Would it not have been better to tell those Basutos to let them trek on to Pretoria?”
“I don’t know what would have been better. I repeat, what are you driving at?
“Heda is coming home in a day or two; she might be here any time,” remarked Rodd as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe.
“Yes, because you made me write and say that I wanted her. But what of that?”
“Nothing in particular, except that I am not sure that I wish her to associate with ‘an English gentleman’ like this Anscombe.”
Marnham laughed scornfully. “Ah! I understand,” he said. “Too clean and straight. Complications might ensue and the rest of it. Well, I wish to God they would, for I know the Anscombes, or used to, and I know the genus called Rodd.”
“Don’t be insulting; you may carry the thing too far one day, and whatever I have done I have paid for. But you’ve not paid—yet.”
“The man is very ill. You are a skilled doctor. If you’re afraid of him, why don’t you kill him?” asked Marnham with bitter scorn.
“There you have me,” replied Rodd. “Men may shed much, but most of them never shed their professional honour. I shall do my honest best to cure Mr. Anscombe, and I tell you that he will take some curing.”
Then I woke up, and as no one was in sight, wondered whether or no I had been dreaming. The upshot of it was that I made up my mind to send Footsack to Pretoria for the oxen, not to go myself.
A GAME OF CARDS
I slept in Anscombe’s room that night and looked after him. He was very feverish and the pain in his leg kept him awake a good deal. He told me that he could not bear Dr. Rodd and wished to get away at once. I had to explain to him that this was impossible until his spare oxen arrived which I was going to send for to Pretoria, but of other matters, including that of the dangerous state of his foot, I said nothing. I was thankful when towards two in the morning, he fell into a sound sleep and allowed me to do the same.
Before breakfast time, just as I had finished dressing myself in some of the clean things which had been brought from the wagon, Rodd came and made a thorough and business-like examination of his patient, while I awaited the result with anxiety on the stoep. At length he appeared and said—
“Well, I think that we shall be able to save the foot, though I can’t be quite sure for another twenty-four hours. The worst symptoms have abated and his temperature is down by two degrees. Anyway he will have to stay in bed and live on light food till it is normal, after which he might lie in a long chair on the stoep. On no account must he attempt to stand.”
I thanked him for his information heartily enough and asked him if he knew where Marnham was, as I wanted to speak to him with reference to the despatch of Footsack to fetch the oxen from Pretoria.
“Not up yet, I think,” he answered. “I fancy that yesterday was one of his ‘wet’ nights, excitement of meeting strangers and so on.”
“Wet nights?” I queried, wishing for a clearer explanation.
“Yes, he is a grand old fellow, one of the best, but like most other people he has his little weaknesses, and when the fit is on him he can put away a surprising amount of liquor. I tell you so that you should not be astonished if you notice anything, or try to argue with him when he is in that state, as then his temper is apt to be—well, lively. Now I must go and give him a pint of warm milk; that is his favourite antidote, and in fact the best there is.”
I thought to myself that we had struck a nice establishment in which to be tied, literally by the leg, for an indefinite period. I was not particularly flush at the time, but I know I would have paid a £100 to be out of it; before the end I should have been glad to throw in everything that I had. But mercifully that was hidden from me.
Rodd and I breakfasted together and discoursed of Kaffir customs, as to which he was singularly well informed. Then I accompanied him to see his native patients in the little hospital of which I have spoken. Believing the man to be a thorough scamp as I did, it was astonishing to me to note how gentle and forbearing he was to these people. Of his skill I need say nothing, as that was evident. He was going to perform an internal operation upon a burly old savage, rather a serious one I believe; at any rate it necessitated chloroform. He asked me if I would like to assist, but I declined respectfully, having no taste for such things. So I left him boiling his instruments and putting on what looked like a clean nightgown over his clothes, and returned to the stoep.
Here I found Marnham, whose eyes were rather bloodshot, though otherwise, except for a shaky hand, he seemed right enough. He murmured something about having overslept himself and inquired very politely, for his manners were beautiful, after Anscombe and as to whether we were quite comfortable and so forth. After this I consulted him as to the best road for our servants to travel by to Pretoria, and later on despatched them, giving Footsack various notes to ensure the delivery of the oxen to him. Also I gave him some money to pay for their keep and told him with many threats to get back with the beasts as quick as he could travel. Then I sent him and the two other boys off, not without misgivings, although he was an experienced man in his way and promised faithfully to fulfil every injunction to the letter. To me he seemed so curiously glad to go that I inquired the reason, since after a journey like ours, it would have been more natural if he had wished to rest.
“Oh! Baas,” he said, “I don’t think this Tampel very healthy for coloured people. I am told of some who have died here. That man Karl who gave me the diamond, I think he must have died also, at least I saw his spook last night standing over me and shaking his head, and the boys saw it too.”
“Oh! be off with your talk of spooks,” I said, “and come back quickly with those oxen, or I promise you that you will die and be a spook yourself.”
“I will, Baas, I will!” he ejaculated and departed almost at a run, leaving me rather uncomfortable.
I believed nothing of the tale of the spook of Karl, but I saw that Footsack believed in it, and was afraid lest he might be thereby prevented from returning. I would much rather have gone myself, but it was impossible for me to leave Anscombe so ill in the hands of our strange hosts. And there was no one else whom I could send. I might perhaps have ridden to Pilgrim’s Rest and tried to find a white messenger there; indeed afterwards I regretted not having done so, although it would have involved at least a day’s absence at a very critical time. But the truth is I never thought of it until too late, and probably if I had, I should not have been able to discover anyone whom I could trust.
As I walked back to the house, having parted from Footsack on the top of a neighbouring ridge whence I could point out his path to him, I met
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