scarce on this route, Iwould have left you at Mr Warden's station till my return, Martin,"observed Mr Vincent to the lad by his side. "But I wanted to give youan insight into the dealing of the natives, for which no small amount ofexperience is required, that you may be able to help me in my business,and be competent in a few years to take charge of a trading expeditionyourself."
"I shall be very glad if I can be of assistance to you, father,"answered Martin. "I already feel myself the better for the dry air ofthe desert. I was very happy with Mr Warden, and should have beencontent to remain and help him and his wife in the numerous duties theyhave to perform."
"He is a good man, no doubt, Martin," observed the trader; "but his isnot a money-making calling, and it is not one I should wish you tofollow."
"If you had not wanted me to help you, father, from what I learned andsaw while I was with Mr Warden, I would rather have become a missionarylike him than be of any other profession," answered young Martin.
"Oh! you must put such foolish ideas out of your head, Martin. It isvery well for those who are paid for it, and are not fit for anythingbetter, but I want my son to be a man of the world, to make money, andto become some day one of the leading merchants of Cape Town."
Young Martin made no reply. On his father's previous journey from theCape, Martin had accompanied him, but, unaccustomed to travelling, hehad fallen sick, and had been left at the Missionary-station of MrWarden. Though the trader looked upon the illness of his son as a greatmisfortune, young Martin had good reason soon to believe it the happiestevent of his life. He there for the first time became practicallyacquainted with the glorious truths of the gospel: he learned that manis a sinner, and by nature a rebel against God, and that through theatonement and mediation of Jesus Christ can he alone become reconciledto Him.
This truth brought home to his own heart, he at once comprehended theimportance of the efforts which Mr Warden, and the missionary-bandengaged with him, were making to carry the gospel of love and mercyamong the savage hordes by whom they were surrounded; he knew it to bethe only means by which their natures could be changed, and they canbecome not only civilised members of society, but, what is of far moreconsequence, heirs of eternal life. He therefore, rejoicing in theblessings he had himself received, felt an earnest desire to engage inthe glorious work of carrying the same blessings to the dark-skinnedraces of that land, long so deeply plunged in ignorance.
Though his health had been completely restored, he would therefore farrather have remained with the missionary than have taken the journey towhich his father summoned him. But he had learned that obedience toparents is among the first duties of a Christian; and thus, after he hadfrankly expressed his wish to remain, when his father still desired hiscompany, he had no longer hesitated to obey his summons.
He was accompanied by Kibo, the son of a chief of one of the tribes tothe north of the desert, whom Mr Vincent purposed visiting. Kibo hadbeen carried away from his home into slavery by the great Matabeleleader Moselekatse, in one of his marauding expeditions against theterritory inhabited by the lad's tribe four or five years before this.
During a visit Mr Warden had paid to Moselekatse, he had seen youngKibo, then apparently on the point of death, and inducing the chief togive him his liberty, had carried him to the Missionary-station, whererecovering, he was instructed in the truths of Christianity. The ladbecame a true and earnest convert, and his heart yearned to visit hisparents and friends, and to tell them the good news he had heard. MrWarden, believing him to be confirmed in the faith, had consented to hisaccompanying Martin, in the hopes that by his means his tribe might beinduced to receive a missionary of the gospel among them.
The trader and his son rode on for some time in silence, the formerindeed was beginning to feel too anxious about the chances of findingwater at the end of the day's journey to talk much. Already many hourshad passed since they had left the last water-holes. Although there wasstill a sufficient supply in the leathern bottles carried in the waggonto prevent them and their men from feeling much inconvenience fromthirst, both horses and oxen were already suffering from want of themoisture so necessary to enable them to swallow their food. They hadstopped as usual during the heat of the day; but though there was anabundance of grass, it was so dry that it crumbled in the hand, and thepoor animals as they chewed it turned it about in their mouths, in avain endeavour to get it down their throats.
Robert Vincent had ordered his men to inspan or harness the cattle at anearlier hour than usual, hoping by pushing on to gain the promised poolbefore nightfall; but the oxen, already fatigued by their previous longjourney, were unable to move as fast as usual, in spite of all theefforts of their driver.
The trader, at length losing patience, rode on by the side of the guide,and inquired when they were to reach the pool he had spoken of.
"Not till after the sun has sunk far beyond yonder distant line, unlessthe oxen move faster than they are now doing," answered the guide,pointing to the western horizon.
The trader shouted to the driver. Again and again he made his huge whipcrack, as he struck his team in succession, but without effect; nothingwould induce the poor animals to hasten their steps.
"I am much inclined to ride forward, and try and find out the wellsmyself," said Mr Vincent to his son. "I am not quite sure that ourguide is not playing us false. If I thought so, I would shoot himthrough the head. It is wiser to trust to one's own sagacity than to atreacherous guide."
"O father! do not use violence," exclaimed Martin. "Gentle words andkindness will have more effect in keeping him faithful. I have no fearabout him, for he has long been known to Mr Warden, who has perfectconfidence in him."
"Why do you think he should have confidence in him, Martin?" asked hisfather.
"Because, though he was once a fierce savage, he has become a faithfulChristian, and as such would be ready to sacrifice his own life ratherthan risk ours when he has promised to serve us."
"I am afraid the fellows are all much alike," observed Mr Vincent. "Theonly way of making them faithful is not to pay them till the journey isover. I only hope he and young Kibo will answer your expectations. Formy part, I have found the heathen black men as trustworthy as thewhites."
"Yes, father," said Martin, "because in too many instances the whitesare merely nominal Christians. Mr Warden has shown me the differencebetween a real and nominal Christian, and it is of the first I speak.All men are fallible, and even in them we cannot hope to findperfection, but still they can be trusted to do their best."
"Well, well, Martin, when you know more of the world, perhaps you willchange your opinion," remarked the trader in an indifferent tone."However, water must be found; and as we have still yearly an hour'sdaylight, we may even yet reach it if we push on before dark."
The trader and his son rode on, though their weary steeds did not moveas fast as they wished.
"What is that?" exclaimed the elder Vincent, pointing to an objectmoving among the dry grass some distance ahead. "A lion; we must put ashot into him, or he will be paying the cattle a visit to-night."
Spurring on his horse, he galloped forward, followed by Martin.
"Don't fire, father!" cried Martin, "it is a human being."
Martin was right. They soon discovered that the object they had seenwas an old bushwoman, although, but for the scanty clothing whichcovered her wretchedly thin and diminutive body, she might have beenmistaken for some wild animal. She seemed dreadfully frightened, as ifexpecting instant death. Martin by speaking to the old woman somewhatreassured her.
"Water must be near, and she will know where to find it," observed hisfather; "so she must come with us whether she likes it or no, and act asour guide."
The poor creature was soon made to understand what she was required todo, while Martin assured her that she should receive no harm, and shouldbe well rewarded. Still this poor wanderer of the desert, accustomedall her life to ill-treatment, seemed to doubt the motives of hercaptors, and
turned her head about, as if meditating an escape.Knowing, however, that she could not outstrip the horses, she walkedquietly on, every now and then looking up and imploring the strangersnot to hurt her. Her husband, her sole companion, she said, was in theneighbourhood, and would be wondering what had become of her.
"Show us the water, and you shall return to him when you wish," said theelder Vincent.
She replied that it would take nearly an hour to reach it.
"Look out then for the waggon, Martin, or it may pass us; for on thishard ground even Masiko may fail to see our tracks."
Martin did as he was told, and, greatly to his relief, at length met thecaravan.
It moved forward for some time. Martin could nowhere see his father.Masiko made him feel anxious, by hinting that
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