The Settler and the Savage, Robert Michael Ballantyne [icecream ebook reader .TXT] 📗

be the feelings of the settlers towards these Kafirs and runaway robbers?--can _they_ forgive?"

Bertha didn't know. She thought their feelings must be very harsh. Diverging from the question, however, she returned to the first regret-- namely, that her friend Ruyter had joined the Bergenaars.

"Hallo! Considine, hi! where are you?" came the sonorous voice of Conrad Marais in the distance, interrupting the conversation. Next moment the hearty countenance of the farmer followed his voice round the corner of the house.

"Come, get your gun, my boy!" he cried in some excitement. "These villains have been down last night and carried off two spans of my best oxen, besides killing and devouring several sheep."

Considine started up at once.

"We shall be off in half an hour," continued the farmer; "Hans is away gathering one or two neighbours, and the people are almost ready."

"Do you accompany them?" asked Considine.

"Of course I do. Come along."

The youth required no urging. In a few minutes he was armed and mounted, galloping in company with a score of horsemen--black, brown, and white--towards the cattle-kraals. Here was already assembled by Hans a troop of mounted men, among whom were Jan Smit and his three sons, David, Jacob, and Hendrik, also the hunter Van Dyk. After a brief consultation, in which Van Dyk took a prominent part, they rode off at a smart gallop.

We change the scene now to a large and dark cavern up among the wild heights of the Winterberg mountains.

It was evening, but the sun had still a considerable distance to descend before finding its bed on the western horizon. A faint gleam of day entered the cave, which was further illuminated by three fires, over which a band of savage-looking dark-skinned men were roasting chops and marrow-bones. Abdul Jemalee the Malay slave and Booby the Bushman were there, assisting at the feast. At the inner end of the cave, seated beside two men, was Ruyter the Hottentot. He was a good deal changed from the rough but careless and jolly fellow whom we first introduced to the reader. There was a stern severity on his countenance, coupled with a touch of sadness when in repose, but when called into action, or even when conversing, the softer feeling vanished, and nothing remained but the lines indicative of a stern settled purpose. Most of the robbers around him had like himself fled from harsh masters, and become hardened in a career of crime. The expression of almost every countenance was vindictive, sensual, coarse. Ruyter's was not so. Unyielding sternness alone marked his features, which, we have elsewhere remarked, were unusually good for a Hottentot. Being a man of superior power he had become the leader of this robber-band. It was only one of many that existed at that time among the almost inaccessible heights of the mountain-ranges bordering on the colony. His companions recognised the difference between themselves and their captain, and did not love him for it, though they feared him. They also felt that he was irrevocably one of themselves, having imbrued his hands in white man's blood more than once, and already made his name terrible on that part of the frontier.

"They should be here by this time," said Ruyter, in Dutch, to one of the men at his side. "Why did you send them off before I returned?"

He said this with a look of annoyance. The man replied that he had acted according to the best of his judgment and had been particular in impressing the leader of the party that he was not to touch the flocks of old Marais, but to devote himself entirely to those of Jan Smit.

To this Ruyter observed with a growl that it was not likely they would attend to such orders if Marais' herds chanced to be handy, but the robber to whom he spoke only replied with a sly smile, showing that he was of the same opinion.

Just then a man rushed into the cave announcing the fact that their comrades were returning with plenty cattle and sheep, but that they were pursued.

Instantly the chops and marrow-bones were flung aside, and the robbers, hastily arming, mounted their horses and descended to the rescue.

The band of which Ruyter had become leader had existed some time before he joined. It was a detachment from a larger band who acknowledged as their chief a desperado named Dragoener. This Bushman had been in the service of Diederik Muller, but, on being severely flogged by a hot-tempered kinsman of his master, had fled to the mountains, vowing vengeance against all white men. It is thus that one white scoundrel can sometimes not only turn a whole tribe of savages into bitter foes of the white men in general, but can bring discredit on his fellows in the eyes of Christian people at a distance, who have not the means of knowing the true state of the case. Be this as it may, however, Dragoener with his banditti soon took ample revenge on the colonists for the sjamboking he had received.

Not long previous to the period of which we write he had been reinforced by Ruyter, Jemalee, Booby, and several other runaway slaves, besides some "wild Bushmen,"--men who had never been in service, and were so called to distinguish them from men who had been caught, like our friend Booby, and "tamed." A few deserters from the Cape Corps, who possessed fire-arms, had also joined him.

Thus reinforced, Dragoener and his lieutenant had become bolder than ever in their depredations. One of his bands had recently carried off a large number of cattle and horses from the Tarka boers, who had called out a commando and gone in pursuit. Driven into a forest ravine, and finding it impossible to retain possession of their booty, the robbers had cut the throats of all the animals, and, scattering into the jungle, made their escape. Another band had frequently annoyed the Scotsmen at Baviaans River.

When therefore the band under Ruyter heard of the approach of their comrades with booty, and of the pursuit by colonists, they went to the rescue, somewhat emboldened by recent successes. On meeting their comrades, who were driving the cattle and horses before them in frantic haste, they were told that the pursuers were in strong force, and numbered among them several of the boldest men and best shots on the frontier.

There was no time for holding a council of war. Ruyter at once divided his men into two bands. With the larger, well armed, and having two or three deserters with muskets, he crept into the woods to lay an ambush for the enemy. The other band was ordered to continue driving the cattle with utmost speed, and, in the event of being overtaken, to cut the animals' throats and each man look out for himself.

If Ruyter's men had been as bold and cool as himself they might have checked the pursuit, but when the hunter Van Dyk, who knew their ways, advanced in front of his comrades by a path known to himself, discovered their ambush and sent a bullet through the head of one of their number, they awaited no further orders but rose _en masse_, fled through the jungle, and made for the mountains.

Van Dyk, reloading in hot haste, followed swiftly, but he had not taken three steps when Charlie Considine was at his heels. He had dismounted and followed Van Dyk. The other pursuers made a detour on horseback to cut off the robbers as they passed over some open ground in advance. In attempting this they came on a spot where the ground was strewn with the dead or dying cattle. With a yell of rage they pushed on, but utterly failed, for the bandits had headed in another direction and gained the cliffs, where pursuit on horseback was impossible. Knowing that it would have been equally fruitless to continue the chase on foot, they returned to the point where Van Dyk and Considine had entered the jungle, fully expecting to find them there, as it would have been madness, they thought, for two unsupported men to follow up the flying band. To their surprise they found no one there.

"We must follow their spoor, boys," said Conrad Marais, with an anxious look; "they cannot be far off, but we must not leave them unsupported in the jungle with such a lot of black villains flying about."

Action was at once taken. The most experienced men dismounted and traced the spoor, with the unerring certainty of bloodhounds. But they shouted and searched in vain till night compelled them to desist.

Meanwhile Van Dyk and Considine had been captured by the Bergenaars.

When Charlie overtook the hunter, as already described, his ardent spirit and strong supple limbs enabled him to outrun his more massive though not less enthusiastic companion. A short run soon convinced the hunter that there was no chance of a clothed white man overtaking a more than half-naked native in a thorny jungle. Indeed, he was already well convinced by former experience of this fact, and had intended to engage in pursuit for only a short time, in order if possible to obtain a flying shot at one or two of the robbers, but his young comrade's resolute continuance of the chase forced him to hold on longer than he desired.

"Stop! stop, young fellow," he shouted with stentorian voice; "stop, I say! You'll only waste your breath for no good," he shouted.

But Considine heard him not. He had caught sight of one of the bandits who seemed to be losing strength, and, being himself sound in wind and limb, he recklessly determined to push on.

"I'll leave you to your fate," roared Van Dyk, "if you don't stop."

He might as well have roared to a mad buffalo. Considine heeded or heard not.

"It won't do," growled the hunter in a stern soliloquy as he stopped a moment to tighten his belt. "Well, well, I little thought, Van Dyk, that you'd be brought to such a miserable fix as this, in such a stupid way too. But he mustn't be left to the Bushmen's tender mercies."

The hunter's swart countenance grew darker as he spoke, for he well knew the extremity of danger into which the reckless youth was compelling him to run, but he did not hesitate. Instead, however, of following in the steps of one who was fleeter of foot than himself, he made a detour to the right. In an hour he reached a cliff under which, he knew, from the form of the valley up which the pursuit had been conducted, his young companion must needs pass. The route he had taken was a short cut. He had headed Considine and saw him, a few minutes later, in the gorge below, in full pursuit of the robber.

"H'm!" grunted Van Dyk, as he sat down on a rock and examined the priming of his great elephant-gun, "I thought as much! The black scoundrel is just playing with him--decoying the young idiot on till he gets him surrounded by his comrades; but I'll spoil his game, though it's like to be the last shot I'll ever fire."

A low quiet sigh escaped from the hunter as he watched the two men and awaited the proper moment.

He was