The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  CHAPTER VII

  Dawn broke over the desert region of the Kalihari. The gray mists ofthe South African night slowly dissolved on the approach of the risingsun, until the crimson glow of the coming day, spreading high in theeastern heavens, tipped with gold the snow-clad peaks of theDrachenberg, and then, swiftly inundating the valley like a flood,chased away the shadows and filled the undulating plains with warmthand light.

  Stretched out near the flickering embers of an expiring camp fire, nothalf a day's _trek_ from the Vaal River, lay what, at first view,appeared to be bundles of rags. A closer inspection showed them to bethe prostrate forms of two men, asleep. Huddled close together, as ifseeking all possible protection from the keen air of the open _veldt_,they appeared grateful even for the little warmth that still came fromthe dying fire. Every now and again a tiny flame, bursting from one ofthe smouldering logs, would light up the recumbent figures, revealing abrief glimpse of the sleepers.

  Both bore traces of desperate need. The rags they wore were filthy,and gave only scant protection from the weather, their emaciated facesand hollowed cheeks told eloquently of many days of fatigue and hunger;their feet, long since without shoes, were clumsily protected from therocky _veldt_ by pieces of coarse sacking. For weeks they had trampedacross the great, merciless desert, guided only by the stars, oftenlosing the trail, begging their way from farm to farm, glad to dolittle jobs for friendly Boers in return for a meal, always in peril ofattack by hostile Kaffirs, yet never halting, trudging ever onward intheir anxiety to reach the coast. That was the haven they painfullysought--the open sea where at least there was a chance to die amongtheir fellows and not perish miserably like dogs on the lonely.God-forsaken plains, with only the howling jackal and the screamingvulture to pick their bones.

  They had tried and they had lost in the great gamble. Like thousandsof other reckless adventurers attracted to the newly discovered diamondcountry, they had rushed out there from England, confident that they,too, could wrest from nature that wonderful gem, ever associated withtragedy and romance, mystery and crime, for the possession of which,since history began, men have been ready to give up their lives.Confident of their success, they had risked all on a turn of the wheel,and Fortune, mocking their puny efforts, had first ruined and thendegraded them, afterward sending them back home to die.

  It was now quite light. The fire, which had flickered up fitfully atintervals, was entirely extinguished. A chilly wind had started toblow from the plateau on the north. The strangers stirred uneasily intheir sleep and awoke almost simultaneously. Sitting up with a start,they yawned and rubbed their eyes.

  "What show o' gettin' some breakfast, Handsome?" asked the smaller ofthe two.

  "Damned little!" was the profane and laconic rejoinder.

  They were men still in the early thirties. One was short and stocky,his face slightly pock-marked. Pictures of a mermaid and anchorclumsily tattooed in indigo on his wrist showed him to be a sailor. Infact, Dick Hickey, boatswain on _H. H. S. Tartar_, having taken Frenchleave of his ship, as she lay in Cape Town Harbor, ran a very goodchance of being taken back to England in irons as a deserter. Just nowhe was serenely indifferent as to what happened to him. Half dead fromexposure and lack of nourishment, he would have gladly welcomed ship'sofficers or anybody else so long as there was some relief from hispresent sufferings. Meantime he spent what little breath he had leftin cursing his hard luck, and blaming his companion as being solelyresponsible for his misfortune.

  The latter was some few years his senior, stalwart and clean-limbed.He appeared to be over six feet in height and a man of splendidphysique. At first glance it was evident that he came of superiorstock. His shapely hands were grimy, his eyes of a peculiarly lightshade of blue were hollow and haggard looking. His face, emaciated andghastly, was almost livid. A clean-cut chin was covered with severalweeks' growth of beard. Yet, underneath all these repellant externals,there was in his every attitude that indefinable refinement of mannerwhich the world always associates with a gentleman. His dark hair,disheveled and matted, was unusually thick and bushy, with theexception of one spot, in the center of his forehead, where there was asingle white lock, a capillary phenomenon, which imparted at once tohis face from its very unusualness an individuality quite its own.

  No one knew who he was or where he came from. They called him"Handsome Jack," partly because of his good looks and also on accountof his reckless liberality with his cronies when flush. What his realname was no one knew or cared. It was a time when no one askedquestions. As soon as the news of the astonishing diamond discoveriesreached Europe, men began to flock to South Africa. Adventurers fromall over the world gathered in Cape Town, a motley crew of incompetentsand blacklegs, an investigation into the antecedents of any of whom wasapt to have unpleasant results. That he was a professional gambler, hemade no attempt to conceal, and that he had knocked about the world agood deal was also to be inferred from his wide knowledge of men andplaces. A man of aggressive, domineering personality, he was notwithout a certain following, attracted by his skill with cards anddice, but he was more feared than liked, and his reputation as adangerous gunman kept inquisitive strangers at a safe distance. He waswell known in every den frequented by the criminal and vicious, and itwas in one of these resorts that Hickey had met him. The sailor hadlost all his savings at faro. Dead broke, he was ready for anythingwhich promised to recoup his fortunes. Handsome Jack laid before him ascheme which would make them both rich beyond the dreams of avarice.The recent discoveries on the Vaal had startled the world. A nativehad picked up a stone weighing over 80 carats. They might be equallylucky. All that was needed was pluck and patience. The plan was tomake their way as best they could to the Vaal fields, jump a claim, anddig for diamonds.

  They set out secretly, avoiding the larger caravans, making the longtrek across the great plateau, partly by ox wagon, partly on foot. Thetrail led through a wild, desolate country, and gradually they leftcivilization hundreds of miles behind them. As far as the eye couldreach in every direction was a monotonous desert of stone and sand,broken every now and then by small kopjies, the sides and summits ofwhich were sparsely covered with thick brush and coarse grass.Scattered here and there, some twenty miles apart, were the homesteadsof the Boer farmers and the thatched kraals of the dark-skinnedKaffirs. Over this lonely waste sheep and cattle wandered undisturbedby springbok, ostriches, crocodiles, mountain lions and other wildanimals.

  In this barren spot Nature had concealed her treasures. A child's cryof joy over a pretty pebble led to their discovery. The little son ofa Boer farmer was playing one day in the fields near the homestead whenhis eye was attracted by something glittering at his feet. Stooping,he picked up a stone unlike any other he had ever seen. Interested, hebegan to look for others and found a number of them, which with greatglee he carried home to show his mother. The worthy woman paid littleheed to what, in her ignorance, she regarded merely as pretty stones,but she happened to speak about them to a neighboring farmer, who askedto look at them. Already tired of his new plaything, the child hadthrown the stones away, but one was found in the field close by, andthe neighbor, a shrewd Dutchman, who had heard of certain stones pickedup in that locality having a certain value, offered to buy it. Thegood woman laughed at the idea of selling a stone, and made him apresent of it. The farmer took it to the nearest town, where expertsdeclared it to be a twenty-one carat diamond, worth $2,500. Round theworld the telegraph flashed this remarkable story, and the rush toSouth Africa began. That was in 1870. In May of that year there wereabout a hundred men at the diggings in the Vaal fields. Before thenext month had closed there were seven hundred. By April of thefollowing year five thousand men were digging frantically in the mudalong the Vaal and Orange rivers.

  It was a rough, lawless gathering of men of every nationality under thesun, the criminal and the vicious, the idle and the worthless. Theregion being inside the border lines of the waste territory that laybet
ween the Boers and the Hottentots, it was therefore No Man's Land,and beyond the pale of established law and order. The miners,compelled, in self-protection, to institute laws of their own,appointed committees to issue licenses, keep the peace, and punishoffenders. Natives were whipped; white men were banished, and fromthis rough-and-ready justice there was no appeal.

  When Handsome and Hickey arrived at the diggings, the fever was stillat its height, and having secured a claim, they went to work with awill. Claims were thirty feet square, and to prevent speculation inthem the owner, in order to hold title, was compelled to toilincessantly. It was hard work, harder work than Handsome had ever beenput to in all his life. At the end of a few days, the skin was scrapedoff his hands from shoveling, and he had such a kink in his back thathe couldn't straighten up. But he had come to stay, and a little;discomfort was not going to scare him. Their implements, purchased atthe diggings, consisted of pick, shovel and rocker, this last being abox arranged on rockers like a baby's cradle. It was a clumsy yetuseful contrivance, in which were fastened, one above the other, wirescreens of varying fineness, the coarsest being on top. As Handsomedug the yellow earth out of the hole he shoveled it into the topscreen. When it was full Hickey poured in water while he rocked. Thewater washed the dirt through the holes, leaving the stones. Thesewere taken out, emptied onto a sorting table, where Handsome scrapedoff the worthless peddles [Transcriber's note: pebbles?], savinganything that seemed of value. As a rule, and much to Hickey'sdisgust, the table was scraped clean. Sometimes the sailor would makea joyful exclamation on seeing some glittering pieces of rock crystal,thinking he had found a prize, only to be disappointed a moment laterwhen a more experienced miner assured him it was worthless. Both soonlearned, however, to recognize at sight the precious gems, and,although few came their way, they saw many brought to the surface byluckier neighbors. One day sounds of great rejoicing was heard intheir tent. They had worked hard for over a month without findinganything, and were feeling greatly discouraged and dejected, when allat once something happened. Handsome had been rocking the cradle in alistless sort of way, and Hickey was sorting the residue, when suddenlythe sailor gave a wild whoop of delight. Darting forward, he held up aglittering stone. Examination proved it to be a genuine diamond,weighing about ten carats, and valued at about $1,000. It was not muchof a find, but it was enough to turn their heads. Dropping all work,they both proceeded to have "a good time," going on a drunken orgie,which lasted just as long as the money held out. When they came totheir senses they were worse off than before. Weakened by prolongeddebauch, they were in no mood for digging, and to complicate matterssome one had jumped their claim during their absence. Even their toolshad disappeared. Without resource or credit, they could not procureothers. Yet work they must to keep the wolf from the door, so, cursingothers when they had only themselves to blame, Handsome securedemployment, digging for another miner, while the sailor performed suchoccasional odd jobs as he could pick up.

  Broken in spirit, enraged at the long spell of ill luck, Handsome beganto drink heavily. Every cent he made went to the grog shop, andHickey, never over fond of work at any time, was only too glad of anexcuse to drink with him. The two cronies filled themselves with rumuntil their reason tottered, and they became beasts, refusing to work,growing ugly, even menacing, preferring to beg the food their emptystomachs craved for rather than toil, as before. At last they madethemselves such a nuisance that the attention of the vigilancecommittee was called to their particular case. In short order theywere hauled up and ordered to leave camp. There was no alternative butto obey, and thus began the dreary trek homeward of the two broken andmiserable outcasts.

  "We cawn't go on much longer like this," moaned Hickey.

  He made a painful effort to get up, but his joints, stiff from theall-night exposure, refused to obey his will, and he fell back with agroan. Handsome, more successful, had already risen, and was scanningthe horizon on every side. Except for the kopjies, which in placesobstructed the view, there was a clear range for ten miles or more. Ifanything alive moved within the field of vision, they could not helpseeing it, but nothing greeted their eyes. There was neither man orbeast to be seen; seemingly they were still many weary miles from thenearest homestead.

  "We must go on," replied Handsome determinedly. Impatiently he added:"What do you want to do--stay here and let the jackals gnaw your bones?"

  Hickey, too weak to argue, shook his head despondently.

  "You go on, Handsome. Leave me here. I cawn't go any further, s' helpme Gawd! My feet hurt somethin' awful. I'm all in. If ye get 'omesafe, go and see the old folks, will ye, and tell 'em I put up a goodfight?"

  "Hell!" retorted the other savagely. "Don't squat there crying like ababy. Be a man. Get up and let's hike it to the nearest homestead."Shading his eyes as he gazed earnestly over the plain, he added: "I seesmoke in the distance. It can't be far off. Come----"

  Suddenly, to his astonishment, Hickey leaped to his feet, with anagility unheard of in one so nearly dying. Pointing to the nearestkopjie, he shouted hoarsely:

  "Look! There's a man--near that kopjie--he's coming this way!"

  It was no dream. A man, unarmed and unaccompanied, was advancingtoward them. From his dress and manner, it was easy to see that he wasnot a Boer farmer. He looked more like an Englishman or an American.

  Scarcely able to believe the evidence of his own eyes, Handsome watchedhis progress.

  As he came nearer, he waved his hand to show that he saw them, and hewalked faster, as if afraid that they might disappear before he couldreach them. Hickey, unable to restrain himself, had run forward, andin a few minutes they met.

  "Who are you?" demanded the stranger, whose face, shaded as it was by abig canvas helmet, it was difficult to see.

  "Miners from the Vaal," answered Hickey. "Who are you?"

  "I am a Frenchman--Francois Chalat. I am ze valet of an Americangentleman. Our party not know ze road. We has wandered from what youcall ze trail. Will you show ze way to us?"

  "Where's your party?" demanded Hickey.

  Francois pointed to a kopjie about three miles distant.

  "There! Behind zat hill."

  Just at that moment, Handsome came lumbering up almost on the run,anxious to know what it was all about.

  "Have you any whiskey?" was his first breathless ejaculation. "We'restarving."

  The valet made no answer. He was too startled to speak. Drawing backa few steps, he stared blankly at the big fellow. For several minuteshe stood as if struck dumb. Presently, when he found his speech, heasked in awed tones:

  "Who are you? What's your name?"

  "What business is it of yours?" snapped Handsome, with some show ofirritation. "Have you any food or whiskey? We're starving."

  The valet made no answer, but just stared in astonished silence at thebig six-footer who towered above him. For a moment he had thought it atrick that his master had played upon him. By walking quickly he hadgot there before him, and dressed up in these rags just to have funwith him. But that matted hair and that chin, with its weeks of growthof beard. He could not be deceived in that. No, this man was not hisemployer. Could it be possible, was it--his twin brother long sincegiven up for dead? The same physique, the same features, the sameeyes, the same thick, bushy hair with the single lock of white hair inthe center of the forehead. There was no room for doubt. It was hisemployer's brother. It was just as well to make friends. Drawing aflask from his pocket and holding it out, he said:

  "Here, take a drink. You need it."

  Eagerly, Handsome snatched it out of his hand.

  "You bet we do."

  He took a deep gulp and handed it to Hickey, whose bleary eyes hadwatered at the very sight of the flask. Francois turned to Handsome.

  "Where is ze trail?" he asked.

  "Over yonder," growled the big fellow in surly tones and making asweeping gesture with his arm which embraced every quarter of
thecompass.

  "Rather indefinite, I should say," smiled the valet. "Where you go?Are you on ze way to ze mines?"

  Handsome Jack took another pull at the flask. His good humor returningin proportion as he felt warmed up by the spirits, he said more amiably:

  "I guess not. My pal and I have enough of the cursed place--ain't we,Hickey?"

  The sailor man glanced dolefully at his limping foot, and nodded hishead in acquiescence.

  "You show us the trail home. My boss is very rich man," interruptedFrancois quickly. "He pay anything."

  Handsome pricked up his ears.

  "Oh, he's rich, is he?"

  The valet laughed as he replied:

  "All Americans rich--tres riches. Did you ever hear of poor Americans?"

  Hickey took another drink and snickered. Handsome looked thoughtful.After a pause, he said:

  "What your boss' name?"

  "Monsieur Traynor of the Americo-African Mining Co."

  Handsome started.

  "What? Kenneth Traynor, of the Americo-African Mining Company--thepeople who made those sensational finds."

  "Yes--he's vice-president of the company."

  Handsome gave a low, expressive whistle.

  "He's rich--all right! Do you know what those stones are worth?"

  "Over a million dollairs."

  "And he came out here to----"

  The valet nodded.

  "_Oui_--zat's it--to get ze big diamonds. We're on our way back fromze mines now. He has ze stones in his possession."

  "And taking them to New York?" gasped Handsome; "a million dollars'worth?"

  "Yes--taking zem to New York. That's what he came out for. We want toreach ze coast as soon as possible. Again I ask. Will you guide usback to ze trail?"

  For a few moments Handsome made no answer. The thoughtful expressionon his pale, care-worn face showed that he was thinking hard. What waspassing in his mind no one knew, but whatever it was it caused thelines about his strong mouth to tighten and the steely blue eyes toflash. A million dollars? God! What will a man not do for a milliondollars? Turning to the valet, he said hastily:

  "Yes, I'm on. Take me to your party. I'll show you the trail. Quick,lead the way."