CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE BERGENAARS.
"So you like the study of French?" said Charlie Considine, as he sat onemorning beside Bertha Marais in the porch of her father's dwelling.
"Yes, very much," answered the girl. She said no more, but she thought,"Especially when I am taught it by such a kind, painstaking teacher asyou."
"And you like to live in the wild karroo?" asked the youth.
"Of course I do," was the reply, with a look of surprise.
"Of course. It was a stupid question, Bertha; I did not think at themoment that it is _home_ to you, and that you have known no other sinceyou were a little child. But to my mind it would be a dull sort of lifeto live here always."
"Do you find it so dull?" asked Bertha, with a sad look.
"No, not in the least," replied the youth, quickly. "How _could_ I,living as I do with such pleasant people, like one of their own kith andkin, hunting with the sons and teaching the daughters--to say nothing ofscolding them and playing chess, and singing and riding. Oh no! I'manything but dull, but I was talking _generally_ of life in the karroo.If I lived alone, for instance, like poor Horley, or with a disagreeablefamily like that of Jan Smit--by the way, that reminds me that we haveheard news of the three runaways, Ruyter, Jemalee, and Booby."
"Oh! I'm so glad," cried Bertha, her fair face brightening up withpleasure, "for I am very fond of Ruyter. He was so kind to me that timehe found me lying near Smit's house, when my pony ran away and threw me,and I felt so miserable when I heard that his master was cruel and oftenbeat him with a sjambok. Often and often since he ran away--and it mustbe nearly a year now--I have prayed God that he might come back, andthat Jan Smit might become good to him--What have you heard?"
Considine's face wore a troubled look. "I fear," he said, "the newswill distress you, for what I heard was that the three men, driven todesperation by the harsh treatment received from their master, havejoined one of the fiercest of these gangs of robbers, called theBergenaars--the gang led, I believe, by Dragoener. It was Lucas VanDyk, the hunter, who told me, and he is said to be generally correct inhis statements."
Bertha's nether lip quivered, and she hid her face in her hands for afew moments in silence.
"Oh! I'm so sorry--so sorry," she said at length, looking up. "He wasso gentle, so kind. I can't imagine Ruyter becoming one of thosedreadful Bergenaars, about whose ferocious cruelty we hear so much--hisnature was so different. I can't believe it."
"I fear," rejoined Considine gently, "that it is true. You know it issaid that oppression will drive even a wise man mad, and a man will taketo anything when he is mad."
"It could not drive a Christian to such a life," returned the girlsadly. "Oh! I _wish_ he had become a Christian when Stephen Orpinspoke to him, but he wouldn't."
"When did Orpin speak to him, and what did he say?" asked Considine,whose own ideas as to Christianity were by no means fixed or clear.
"It was just after that time," rejoined Bertha, "when Jan Smit had hadhim tied to a cart-wheel, and flogged so terribly that he could not walkfor some days. Orpin happened to arrive at the time with his waggon--you know he has taken to going about as a trader,--and he spoke a greatdeal to Ruyter about his soul, and about Jesus coming to save men fromsin, and enabling them to forgive their enemies; but when Ruyter heardabout forgiving his enemies he wouldn't listen any more. Pointing tohis wounds, he said, `Do you think I can forgive Jan Smit?'"
"I don't wonder," said Considine; "it is too much to expect a blackfellow smarting under the sjambok to forgive the man who applies it--especially when it is applied unjustly, and with savage cruelty."
Bertha was not gifted with an argumentative spirit. She lookedanxiously in the face of her companion, and murmured some brokensentences about the Lord's Prayer and the Golden Rule, and wound up bysaying hesitatingly, "How can we ask forgiveness if we do not forgive?"
"You are right, Bertha," was Considine's rejoinder, uttered gravely;"but, truly, a man must be more than a man to act on such principles.Think, now of the state of things at the present time with regard to thesettlers. The `rust,' as they call that strange disease which hastotally ruined the first year's crop of wheat, has thrown the most ofthem into difficulties, and in the midst of this almost overwhelmingcalamity down came the Kafirs on the Albany District, and theBergenaars, of whom we have just been speaking, not, like men, to fightopenly--that were endurable,--but like sly thieves in the dead of night,to carry off sheep and cattle from many of the farms--in some cases evenkilling the herdsmen. Now, what think you must be the feelings of thesettlers 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 ofConrad Marais in the distance, interrupting the conversation. Nextmoment the hearty countenance of the farmer followed his voice round thecorner of the house.
"Come, get your gun, my boy!" he cried in some excitement. "Thesevillains have been down last night and carried off two spans of my bestoxen, besides killing and devouring several sheep."
Considine started up at once.
"We shall be off in half an hour," continued the farmer; "Hans is awaygathering 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 andmounted, galloping in company with a score of horsemen--black, brown,and white--towards the cattle-kraals. Here was already assembled byHans a troop of mounted men, among whom were Jan Smit and his threesons, David, Jacob, and Hendrik, also the hunter Van Dyk. After a briefconsultation, in which Van Dyk took a prominent part, they rode off at asmart gallop.
We change the scene now to a large and dark cavern up among the wildheights of the Winterberg mountains.
It was evening, but the sun had still a considerable distance to descendbefore finding its bed on the western horizon. A faint gleam of dayentered the cave, which was further illuminated by three fires, overwhich a band of savage-looking dark-skinned men were roasting chops andmarrow-bones. Abdul Jemalee the Malay slave and Booby the Bushman werethere, assisting at the feast. At the inner end of the cave, seatedbeside two men, was Ruyter the Hottentot. He was a good deal changedfrom the rough but careless and jolly fellow whom we first introduced tothe reader. There was a stern severity on his countenance, coupled witha touch of sadness when in repose, but when called into action, or evenwhen conversing, the softer feeling vanished, and nothing remained butthe lines indicative of a stern settled purpose. Most of the robbersaround him had like himself fled from harsh masters, and become hardenedin a career of crime. The expression of almost every countenance wasvindictive, sensual, coarse. Ruyter's was not so. Unyielding sternnessalone marked his features, which, we have elsewhere remarked, wereunusually good for a Hottentot. Being a man of superior power he hadbecome the leader of this robber-band. It was only one of many thatexisted at that time among the almost inaccessible heights of themountain-ranges bordering on the colony. His companions recognised thedifference between themselves and their captain, and did not love himfor it, though they feared him. They also felt that he was irrevocablyone of themselves, having imbrued his hands in white man's blood morethan once, and already made his name terrible on that part of thefrontier.
"They should be here by this time," said Ruyter, in Dutch, to one of themen 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 hadacted according to the best of his judgment and had been particular inimpressing the leader of the party that he was not to touch the flocksof 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 wouldattend to such orders if Marais' herds chanced to be handy, but therobber to whom he spoke only replied with a sly smile, showing that hewas of the same opinion.
Just then a man rushed into the cave announcing the fact that theircomrades were returning with plenty cattle and sheep, but that they werepursued.
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 beforehe joined. It was a detachment from a larger band who acknowledged astheir chief a desperado named Dragoener. This Bushman had been in theservice of Diederik Muller, but, on being severely flogged by ahot-tempered kinsman of his master, had fled to the mountains, vowingvengeance against all white men. It is thus that one white scoundrelcan sometimes not only turn a whole tribe of savages into bitter foes ofthe white men in general, but can bring discredit on his fellows in theeyes of Christian people at a distance, who have not the means ofknowing the true state of the case. Be this as it may, however,Dragoener with his banditti soon took ample revenge on the colonists forthe sjamboking he had received.
Not long previous to the period of which we write he had been reinforcedby Ruyter, Jemalee, Booby, and several other runaway slaves, besidessome "wild Bushmen,"--men who had never been in service, and were socalled to distinguish them from men who had been caught, like our friendBooby, and "tamed." A few deserters from the Cape Corps, who possessedfire-arms, had also joined him.
Thus reinforced, Dragoener and his lieutenant had become bolder thanever in their depredations. One of his bands had recently carried off alarge number of cattle and horses from the Tarka boers, who had calledout a commando and gone in pursuit. Driven into a forest ravine, andfinding it impossible to retain possession of their booty, the robbershad cut the throats of all the animals, and, scattering into the jungle,made their escape. Another band had frequently annoyed the Scotsmen atBaviaans River.
When therefore the band under Ruyter heard of the approach of theircomrades with booty, and of the pursuit by colonists, they went to therescue, somewhat emboldened by recent successes. On meeting theircomrades, who were driving the cattle and horses before them in frantichaste, they were told that the pursuers were in strong force, andnumbered among them several of the boldest men and best shots on thefrontier.
There was no time for holding a council of war. Ruyter at once dividedhis men into two bands. With the larger, well armed, and having two orthree deserters with muskets, he crept into the woods to lay an ambushfor the enemy. The other band was ordered to continue driving thecattle with utmost speed, and, in the event of being overtaken, to cutthe animals' throats and each man look out for himself.
If Ruyter's men had been as bold and cool as himself they might havechecked the pursuit, but when the hunter Van Dyk, who knew their ways,advanced in front of his comrades by a path known to himself, discoveredtheir ambush and sent a bullet through the head of one of their number,they awaited no further orders but rose _en masse_, fled through thejungle, and made for the mountains.
Van Dyk, reloading in hot haste, followed swiftly, but he had not takenthree steps when Charlie Considine was at his heels. He had dismountedand followed Van Dyk. The other pursuers made a detour on horseback tocut off the robbers as they passed over some open ground in advance. Inattempting this they came on a spot where the ground was strewn with thedead or dying cattle. With a yell of rage they pushed on, but utterlyfailed, for the bandits had headed in another direction and gained thecliffs, where pursuit on horseback was impossible. Knowing that itwould have been equally fruitless to continue the chase on foot, theyreturned to the point where Van Dyk and Considine had entered thejungle, fully expecting to find them there, as it would have beenmadness, they thought, for two unsupported men to follow up the flyingband. To their surprise they found no one there.
"We must follow their spoor, boys," said Conrad Marais, with an anxiouslook; "they cannot be far off, but we must not leave them unsupported inthe jungle with such a lot of black villains flying about."
Action was at once taken. The most experienced men dismounted andtraced the spoor, with the unerring certainty of bloodhounds. But theyshouted 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 ardentspirit and strong supple limbs enabled him to outrun his more massivethough not less enthusiastic companion. A short run soon convinced thehunter that there was no chance of a clothed white man overtaking a morethan half-naked native in a thorny jungle. Indeed, he was already wellconvinced by former experience of this fact, and had intended to engagein pursuit for only a short time, in order if possible to obtain aflying shot at one or two of the robbers, but his young comrade'sresolute continuance of the chase forced him to hold on longer than hedesired.
"Stop! stop, young fellow," he shouted with stentorian voice; "stop, Isay! You'll only waste your breath for no good," he shouted.
But Considine heard him not. He had caught sight of one of the banditswho seemed to be losing strength, and, being himself sound in wind andlimb, 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 orheard not.
"It won't do," growled the hunter in a stern soliloquy as he stopped amoment 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 stupidway 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 knewthe extremity of danger into which the reckless youth was compelling himto run, but he did not hesitate. Instead, however, of following in thesteps of one who was fleeter of foot than himself, he made a detour tothe right. In an hour he reached a cliff under which, he knew, from theform of the valley up which the pursuit had been conducted, his youngcompanion must needs pass. The route he had taken was a short cut. Hehad headed Considine and saw him, a few minutes later, in the gorgebelow, in full pursuit of the robber.
"H'm!" grunted Van Dyk, as he sat down on a rock and examined thepriming of his great elephant-gun, "I thought as much! The blackscoundrel is just playing with him--decoying the young idiot on till hegets him surrounded by his comrades; but I'll spoil his game, thoughit'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 andawaited the proper moment.
He was evidently right in his conjecture, for, as they drew near thecliff, the black man looked over his shoulder once or twice andslackened his pace. The next moment he gave a shout which proved to bea signal, for two of the robbers sprang out from the bushes and seizedConsidine, almost before he had seen them. Vigorously he struggled, andwould perhaps have thrown off both, had not the man he had been chasingturned and run to aid the others.
Quickly but steadily Van Dyk raised his gun and covered this man. Nextmoment the muzzle was struck aside, the ball flew harmlessly into thejungle, and the hunter was pinioned, overthrown, and rendered helplessby four of the robbers, who had been watching his motions all the time.
Van Dyk was not taken much by surprise. He knew that such danger wasprobable, and had done his best to avoid it. With that self-commandwhich a life of constant danger in the woods had taught him, he bowed tothe inevitable, and quietly submitted to be bound and led away.
Mean while Ruyter, for it was he who had been chased, came up in time toassist in securing his victim.
"What, Ruyter, is it you?" exclaimed Considine in amazement.
When the robber-chief became aware who he had captured, an expression ofdeep annoyance or regret crossed his face, but it quickly passed intoone of stern almost sulky determination, as he ordered the two m
en, inDutch, to make the bonds secure. He deigned no reply to the prisoner'squestion. He did not even appear to recognise him, but strode on infront, while the two robbers drove the youth up into the rockyfastnesses of the mountains.
That night our hero found himself seated in the deepest recesses of acavern by the side of his comrade Van Dyk. The arms of both were firmlybound behind their backs, but their legs were free, their captorsknowing well that a scramble among such giddy and rugged heights withoutthe use of the hands was impossible. In the centre of the cavern satthe robbers round a small fire on which some of them were cooking a fewscraps of meat.
"A pretty mess you've led yourself and me into, young fellow!" said thehunter sternly.
"Indeed I have," replied Considine, with a very penitent air, "and Iwould give or do anything to undo the mischief."
"Ja--always the same with wild-caps like you," returned theother,--"ready to give anything when you've got nothing, and to doanything when you're helpless. How much easier it would have been tohave given a little heed and shown a little common sense when you hadthe chance!"
There was a touch of bitterness, almost fierceness, in the hunter'stone, which, knowing the man's kindly nature, Considine could not quiteunderstand.
"Do you know what them reptiles there are saying?" continued Van Dykafter a brief pause.
"No, their language is mere gibberish to me."
"They're discussin' the best method of puttin' us out of existence,"said the hunter, with a grim smile. "Some of 'em want to cut ourthroats at once and have done with it; some would like to torture usfirst; others are in favour of hangin', but all agree that we must bekilled to prevent our tellin' the whereabouts of their hiding-place uphere,--all except one, the one you gave chase to this afternoon. Headvises 'em to let us go, but he don't seem very earnest about it."
"I think I know the reason of his favouring us," said Considine, with alook of hope.
"Indeed?"
"Yes; he once journeyed with me from Capetown to the karroo, andprobably he feels a touch of regard for his old travelling companion."
"H'm! I wouldn't give much for his regard," growled Van Dyk. "The reedis slender, but it's the only one we have to lean on now. However,we've got a reprieve, for I heard 'em say just now that they'll delayexecuting us till to-morrow, after reaching one of their other and saferretreats in the mountains."
The prisoners were put into a smaller cave, close to the large one, thatnight. Their bonds were made more secure, and, as an additionalprecaution, their legs were tied. Two men were also appointed to guardthe entrance of their prison.
About midnight the camp was perfectly still, and the only sounds thatbroke the silence were the tinkling of a neighbouring rill and thefootfall of the sentinels. Van Dyk and Considine were lying uneasily onthe bare ground, and thinking of the tragic fate that awaited them onthe morrow, when they observed the dim figure of a man approaching fromthe innermost end of the cavern with a drawn knife in his right hand.Both started up and leant on their elbows; more than this they could notdo. They felt some alarm, it is true, but both came to the sameconclusion--that it is foolish to cry out before you are hurt.
The figure bent over Van Dyk, and whispered in his ear. Next moment thehunter stood on his feet with his limbs free.
"You were right, young sir," he said to Considine as he stooped over himand cut his bonds; "there _is_ a touch of humanity in the rascallyHottentot after all. Come; he bids us follow him. Knows a secretpassage out o' the cave, no doubt."
The black-bearded huntsman turned as he spoke, and followed the dimfigure, which melted into the depths of the cavern as if it had been aspirit. A few minutes' gliding through darkness tangible, and theyfound themselves in the open air among thick bushes. Though the nightwas very dark there was sufficient light to enable Considine to see theglittering of white teeth close to his face, as a voice whispered inbroken English--"You's better tink twice when you try for to chasesTottie next time! Go; Van Dyk, him's old hand in de bush, will guideyou safe."
Before morning Considine was back in Conrad Marais' parlour, relatinghis adventures among the Bergenaars with a half-belief that the wholeaffair was nothing more than a romantic dream.
The Settler and the Savage Page 14
